His Woodland Maiden

by Michelle M. Pillow

  “Hey, now, wait,” Rick protested.

  Dev gave him a small shove in the back to shut him up.

  Jackson pointed upward. A monitor showed the inside of the VR tunnels, flipping through scenes like a security monitor. People stood in the endless field, appearing annoyed as a security officer blocked their exit to the London exhibit. Yet another group stood in London, appearing to have fun exploring, even as they too were barred from exiting. They stood in the middle of the road as holographic animals walked through them.

  A medic team was in the monstrous zoo VR program giving medical attention to the bionic thugs who’d been disabled by the displays. Janitor droids cleaned the biological fluids that had dripped from their broken tubing. The monsters were all back in their cages and not looking happy about it. Whoever had programmed them surely had some psychological issues to work out.

  Another clean-up crew worked on the riot scene, moving through the displayed characters as if they were no more than ghosts. It looked like a bionic guard had made it that far before being overtaken by the angry mob.

  And finally, the forest was empty except for the serpentine child sitting on her bed, smiling sweetly so that her little fangs showed.

  A small shiver worked over Rick. He glanced down at his hand, still seeing the bite marks.

  Jackson gave a small laugh. “Rick’s scared of a girl child.”

  “Hey, she’s not some innocent little starbeam. That thing ate her parents,” Rick defended. He held up his hand. “She tried to eat me.”

  There was no sign of Harper in the VR. Hopefully, that meant she’d escaped.

  The walkway became congested as they left the auditorium and entered the pavilion. Jackson navigated the crowd, weaving through at a clipped pace. Rick tried to pull free of the man’s grasp.

  “Slow down. I have to find Harper,” he said. “We can’t leave her.”

  “We don’t have time for your imaginary love affairs,” Jackson said. “We need to leave. We’re meeting everyone on the ship.”

  To his surprise, it was Dev who stopped Jackson’s progress. “Who is Harper? Is that what you’re calling the queenpin now?”

  Rick nodded. “Did you see her?”

  “Yes.” Dev turned his head sharply, his eyes focusing on something Rick could not see before he motioned at Jackson to continue walking. “Pavilion security is on their way.”

  “Come on, fly boy,” Jackson said. “Violette is preparing the ship for takeoff.”

  Rick couldn’t help the small wave of possessiveness he felt at the thought of another pilot in his cockpit. He had very little that he could call his own and being pilot of his ship was one of them. Ever since the first time he’d sat behind a flight panel, he’d understood what it meant. Flying was freedom. It was escape. It meant never having to go back.

  Rick could forget his past. He was good at forgetting. He shoved those memories into their painful little trap and never let them out. In fact, they’d been buried for so long they’d rotted into unrecognizable scraps.

  He automatically smiled as they passed the fur-headed females he’d seen upon arrival. His gaze darted past them. He needed to find Harper.

  “Which way did she go?” Rick asked Dev. When the man didn’t answer, he said louder, “Dev, you said you saw her. Where did she go?”

  Instead of answering, Dev grabbed his free arm and helped Jackson walk him toward the docking lot. “Three on the left.”

  “Two on the right,” Jackson answered.

  “One in the middle.” Rick mocked their serious tone.

  “Why are we saving him again?” Jackson asked.

  “Captain’s orders,” Dev answered.

  “Fine, I get it.” Rick shook his arms to loosen their hold. “You can’t live without me. Now let me go.”

  “Hey, you, stop! What’s your authorization code?”

  The shout caused both Dev and Jackson to walk faster, dragging him with them. They didn’t turn to see who yelled.

  “Halt!”

  Rick was no match for a Bevlon and a super soldier. The men lifted him by his arms and began to run in tandem. He tried to move his legs, but his feet dangled over the ground. They dropped him long enough to maneuver through the large sliding door leading to the docks. Seconds later, they had him back in the air as they sprinted past a long line of ships. They turned a corner, letting his feet bounce on the floor before lifting him once more.

  “Let me down,” Rick protested, kicking his legs. He tapped the back of Jackson’s knee, forcing it to bend. When the man stumbled and released him, Rick began running on his own. Dev was forced to let go.

  The sound of footfall followed them, propelling him on. Rick would be lying if he said he didn’t like being chased. Danger made him feel alive.

  Lochlann stood next to the wide cargo loading plank waving his arm for them to hurry. The purr of the ship’s engine sounded in a low hum to welcome him home.

  “Coming in hot,” Dev called.

  Lochlann led the way up the docking plank and hovered his hand over the door lock.

  Lucien appeared near the top of the plank to look. He scratched the back of his head. “You call that hot? She’s just a little slip of a thing.”

  Raisa joined Lucien, leaning over to peek out as her husband rushed forward. “Rick, what did you do this time? She looks like she means business.”

  Rick made it to the metal docking plank before glancing back. Judging by the shouts and footfall, he’d expected to see two or three guards on their tail.

  Instead, he found Harper. She wore a tight shirt and matching crimson pants. Apparently, she’d had time to change her clothing after abandoning him with the snake girl.

  “Let’s move,” Lochlann ordered, hitting the button. The plank began to rise beneath him, carrying him up into the ship.

  “No, wait!” Rick’s eyes met Harper’s, knowing what she was going to do.

  “I said let’s move,” Lochlann commanded.

  “Harper, don’t,” Rick yelled. “Lochlann stop the—”

  Harper dove forward into the narrowing opening only to slide across the metal grate. It barely missed clipping her foot. The door would have taken it off easily. The metal sealed shut.

  Dev grabbed two weapons from the cargo hold wall and tossed one to Jackson, who shoved his wife behind his back. Raisa didn’t protest as he used his body to shield her.

  “Don’t move,” Dev ordered, pointing his weapon at Harper.

  “Easy,” Rick said. “She’s with me.”

  “Even more reason,” Jackson said. “Raisa, love, get out of the cargo hold, please.”

  She didn’t leave.

  “Is that…? Holy space balls, the queenpin’s back? Captain, open the hatch so Dev can throw her dangerous ass out,” Lucien said, waving his hands. “Throw her out. Throw her out!”

  “No—” Rick tried to protest.

  “Miss me?” Harper smiled at Lucien even as she tried to catch her breath. The look was taunting and probably not the smartest, considering she’d just stowed away on their ship. She lifted her hands in surrender toward Dev as she sat up and winced a little. From his position, Rick detected her bloody knuckles.

  The ship lurched as Violette engaged the engines for takeoff.

  “Too late,” Harper said.

  “Says who,” Dev answered. “Give us one reason why we shouldn’t just eject you into the deep black?”

  Harper glanced at Rick. He had to admit he was curious as to her answer. She had left him behind after all, in the clutches of the bitey demon spawn.

  “I saved his life.” Harper gave a small nod in his direction.

  “Nice try. I saved your life,” Rick disagreed.

  The ship rocked, and they all stumbled and slid to the left. Harper grabbed on to a cargo strap and held tight to keep from sliding as she stayed on the floor.

  Rick fell into a metal crate, smacking his sore hand in the process. “Blast it, Vi! What are you doing to my baby?”r />
  Lochlann and Dev spread their arms as they were forced to balance their footing. Jackson placed a hand on the wall and leaned into it while holding on to Raisa’s waist with his gun hand, no longer aiming at Harper. His eyes never wavered from the intruder.

  Rick relaxed as they stopped pointing the weapons at her. They might threaten, but they wouldn’t kill her. He pushed up as soon as the ship righted itself and ran past Dev out of the cargo hold. He hurried toward the cockpit, intent on taking over, only to stop and return to the cargo area.

  “Don’t toss her out,” he yelled at the others before leaving once more, only to stop and return a second time. “And don’t put Lucien or Viktor in charge of—”

  Violette’s flying took them sharply to the right. Rick stumbled the wrong direction down the passageway. If he didn’t take over the controls soon, Violette was liable to steer the ship straight into a star.

  As he ran past the cargo door, he yelled, “Don’t do anything. I’ll be back!”

  5

  Harper was used to people hating her. The eyes of Rick’s crew stared down at her like they expected her to attack. Joke was on them. Various parts of her body throbbed in pain—the cut from the killer clown, her midsection from an unfortunate series of blows, and now her knuckles from the metal of the loading plank. By the sting in her side, she would guess she’d broken a rib or two. Until she found a handheld medic, she wouldn’t be fighting anyone—let alone a Bevlon warrior and his fellow pirates.

  She was also used to people loving her—not the real her, but the her she allowed them to see. It was her job to play a part. What she wasn’t used to was Rick. He wasn’t like the other men she’d met. He wasn’t a job. In fact, he was quite the opposite. He was a damned inconvenience.

  Harper should feel bad about taking his memories, but she didn’t. It was for the best if he forgot certain things, including her. It would take more than a jab from her injector to erase everything, but accessing the kind of specialized equipment she’d need to erase herself completely from his memories would require bringing him home. Her bosses would find it easier, and more cost effective, to kill a space pirate rather than rehabilitate him since pirates by nature were untrustworthy criminals. So, thigh jabs it was.

  Damn. She was out of Swipe injectors. Bucky was so boring she might have jabbed him a few times extra just to get him to leave her alone.

  The ride smoothed and she let go of the cargo strap. She lifted her hands but kept her arms close to her sides. “How’s it been, fellas?”

  A woman attempted to come forward from beside Jackson. “I’m Raisa. We haven’t—”

  Jackson stepped to the side to block her advance. “What are you doing here?”

  “I need a ride.” Harper began to stand, only to think better of it as Dev and Jackson stepped forward. “Figured I’d hitch one from old friends.”

  “We are not friends,” Dev said. “You can stay in the prison hold.”

  “I could,” she agreed with a glance at Lucien, “but I’ll just escape again.”

  Lucien furrowed his brow but didn’t respond.

  Bloody novas, her side hurt. Sliding onto the ship had been a necessary, if not a stupid idea. If she’d thought appealing to their better natures would work on this crew, she’d beg to use their medical booth. Instead, she tried to keep her breathing steady. Men like this respected toughness in others.

  “What happened to you?” Raisa’s head poked out from behind Jackson’s back. “Who are you running from?”

  Harper gave a small laugh. “That would be a long list.”

  Let them think she was a criminal.

  “Well,” the woman answered. “We can’t fault her for that. I mean, we’re not exactly a ship full of fare-thee-wells.”

  “You’re speaking gibberish. Have you been talking to Rick again?” Jackson frowned as he turned to glance at Raisa.

  “What does that even mean?” Dev asked.

  “Fare-thee-wells were a sect of devout Earthlings who tried to live the divine and convert alien worlds when Old Earth humans began space travel,” Harper said. “They never stayed long in one place.”

  “See, it’s a real thing.” Raisa shrugged. “I like talking to Rick. He makes me laugh, and he’ll try any food I put in front of him.”

  “That green slime sludge was not food,” Lucien stated, as if continuing an old argument.

  “Maybe we can discuss the ship’s culinary menu later,” Dev said.

  “Agreed,” Jackson said. “Lucien, take my wife out of here please.”

  “Come on, Raisa.” Lucien took the woman’s arm. “Let’s go make something gross and see if Rick will eat it.”

  “You’re not going to let them hurt her, are you?” Raisa asked Jackson. “I don’t know what she’s done, but she needs help now.”

  Harper deepened her breathing, testing her lungs as she filled them to capacity. Even though it hurt, she was moving air in and out. She’d broken her ribs before, but this pain somehow felt different.

  Jackson’s eyes met Harper’s, and he answered, “Not unless she makes us.”

  Raisa started for the door, only to stop and frown. “Are you… injured?”

  Harper shook her head in denial but touched her side. Her fingers found a small protrusion beneath her shirt.

  “She’s bleeding. We need to get her to the medical booth.” Raisa pointed at Harper’s waist.

  Harper glanced to her hand. Blood stained her fingertips where she’d bled through her shirt. A sharp jab hit her side, even though she didn’t touch it again. She grunted and held her breath.

  Raisa started for her. Dev grabbed her arm. “Careful, she’s more dangerous than she seems.”

  “Help her, or I will,” Raisa demanded.

  Captain Lochlann had been eyeing her quietly. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, though she did see a strange yellow glow flash through his gaze. He didn’t move. “Dev, check her.”

  Dev stepped closer and peered down at Harper.

  “Hi there, big guy,” Harper said, not moving from her place on the metal floor.

  “Where is the blood coming from?” Dev asked.

  “My body,” Harper said.

  “Do you require a medical booth?” Dev questioned.

  “Honestly, I’d prefer a handheld if you have it.” She knew way too much about the Medical Alliance for Planetary Health to trust any medical booth equipment they made straight off the assembly line. All her personal records and DNA makeup would be sent to the main facility. It was a little something the MAPH didn’t like to include with the sales pitch.

  “As you wish. Stand up. We’re taking you to the prison hold.” Dev motioned for her to stand.

  “Wait, what?” Raisa protested.

  Harper tried to stand, but her legs were weak and she was forced to grab the cargo strap to pull her weight.

  At Jackson’s look, Lucien threaded his arm through Raisa’s and pulled her from the cargo area. “Come on, Raisa. We shouldn’t be here.”

  Harper leaned into the crate. The ship vibrated violently before a loud metal clank sounded. None of the remaining men appeared concerned, so she ignored it.

  The protrusion beneath her fingers felt cylindrical. She frowned and finally lifted her shirt to look at it. A metal disc had adhered to her flesh.

  “That son of a comet-sucking whore side stitched me,” Harper swore. She pulled at the disc, trying to pluck it from her flesh. Her finger slid over the bloody metal.

  “What is a side stitch?” Lochlann asked, leaning to get a closer look. Red lights flashed in a pattern as they appeared to race around the circular device.

  “It’s an Ingeniarian tracker,” she said, digging her fingers around it and pulling, to no avail. “And I need to get it off before it fuses to my bone.”

  “I thought you said the pavilion guards were after Rick for disrupting their adventure tunnel,” Lochlann said.

  “They were chasing us, and then they weren’t. This on
e appeared in their place,” Dev answered. “She must have taken out the guards.”

  “The pavilion guards did that to you?” Jackson asked.

  “The guards?” She scoffed. “Those two-bit hacks? They’ll wake up with headaches later. No, the bionic black hole Prince Bucky’s security team did this to me…” Harper muttered as she kept trying to pull it.

  “Who’s Prince Bucky?” Jackson asked.

  “He’s, um, kind of my betrothed,” Harper answered. The device didn’t budge. She wrapped the cargo strap around a wrist and held on to it with both hands as she took a deep breath. She glanced at Dev. “I need you to pull this thing out of me. Hard and fast.”

  She’d picked him out of the three because he was obviously at least half-Bevlon, and those aliens weren’t squeamish when it came to pain.

  “Perhaps the medical booth would be best,” he answered.

  Harper frowned. Perfect. She’d found the only Bevlon who didn’t enjoy inflicting harm.

  “I’ll do it.” Jackson stepped forward and lifted her shirt. He didn’t hesitate as he formed a claw around the side stitch, dug his fingers in, and pulled.

  Harper’s legs gave out, and she screamed as it felt like her entire rib cage was being yanked from her flesh with pliers. Her hold on the strap was the only thing that kept her upright.

  “Stop,” Lochlann ordered.

  Jackson instantly obeyed. Her side throbbed, and she felt a hot tear roll down her cheek.

  “That’s not working,” Lochlann said. She glanced over at the captain. His expression pulled tight in distaste. “Put her in the medical booth.”

  “No,” Harper managed, righting her shaky legs. “These little bastards are still new. I don’t know how they will react to a scan like that. It could be better for the ship if we shoot it off.”

  “That could cause a reaction as well,” Dev denied.

  “Yeah, but look at it this way, if it does, you’ll be rid of me,” Harper answered. She hated the idea of being tracked more than she feared death. After being near the brink as many times as she had, the black void of an afterlife was about as welcoming as a well-deserved nap.