An Apocalyptic Need (5 page)

“I’m sure you can.”

Something in his tone brought her head snapping around. “But?”

“But you don’t. Handle him. Which makes me wonder why.”

Cari expelled a frustrated breath before she could stop herself. “It’s complicated.”

“I have nothing but time.”

She shook her head. “It’s late, get some sleep. Tomorrow we may find ourselves in battle.”

“Will you let me help?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

She found his gaze, wondering if he would truly work to help her if she let him fight. “I’d think that was obvious.”

Grimm shrugged. “Not really. As long as I’m captive on this ship, my continued ability to breathe depends on the ship’s survival.”

Cari shook her head again, reaching up to rub the muscles of her shoulder, which had tightened to a painful state after her confrontation with Alcott.

“You’re in pain?”

She threw him a quick glance. “Nothing a hot shower won’t cure.”

“I’d be happy to rub it, with or without the shower.”

She grinned despite her best intentions. “Nice try.”

His big hands slid along the bars, drawing her gaze. He touched the restraining metal gently, rubbing fingers along its length as if he were caressing a woman’s flesh. Cari suddenly found it hard to swallow.

“I thought I was supposed to be your sex vassal. So far I have to say the arrangement has been a whole lot more vassal than I’d hoped and a lot less sex.”

Cari laughed. “You’re incorrigible.” She shook her head. “Surely you’ve guessed by now that I’m not exactly the type to have a sex vassal…”

“And yet you do.”

“Yes.” Her eyes found him, slipped over the long, sculpted length of his body. He’d removed his shirt at some point…unbuttoned the top button of his tight jeans. His strong brown body was perfection. Hairless and smooth, his chest seemed to glow in the soft light she favored. A dark trail of black curls formed a line leading from his belly button into the sexy vee of his open jeans.

Cari suddenly wanted to lick her way along that line.

“You’re not uninterested, I see.”

The laughter in his husky voice made her slash her gaze away from him. Heat filled her cheeks. “I’m not dead, hunter. Just focused on my goal.”

She thought he sighed. When she looked at him again his head was lowered. The clear contour of an inspiring erection was outlined by his pants. She licked her lips, wishing she could take him up on his offer. “Get some sleep, Grimm.”

Cari headed for the shower, thinking she might trade the hot water she’d been anticipating for something a lot cooler, which might put out the fire initiated by a single glance between them.

Grimm tossed and turned on the too-soft bed. His body was hot, hard and ached with unfulfilled lust. He’d managed to doze a few times throughout the long, long night, but each time he’d been flung awake when Captain Cari
Pascale entered his dreams, soft and sexy and lushly naked
.

In his dreams he’d tasted her sweet flesh, spread her luscious thighs, and kissed his way over the soft, rounded contours of her body. But each time, before he could plunge deep within her willing flesh, his traitorous body had surged awake.

Denying him over and over again.

Grimm turned his head and found her, a small rise along the floor beside her bed. Her long, blond tresses glowed brightly, a brilliant star in the near dark. He’d already figured out how to open his cell door. But she was a light sleeper and he wasn’t sure he could get to her before she woke. The element of surprise was important. Or he’d find himself facing her oxygen blaster.

Seduction didn’t work as well when firepower was involved.

A soft sound brought Grimm’s gaze snapping around. For a moment he thought he’d imagined it, but then the door to Cari’s quarters slid open on a breath of air. His fingers closed around the knife he’d stolen from his guard earlier that day, certain that whoever entered was up to no good.

A tall figure slipped through the door, stepping into the shadows as it slid closed again. Grimm squinted into the dark, trying to see the intruder. The narrow light bands arrayed along the floor illuminated a large pair of black boots and the glint of something long and metal in a gloved hand.

A blade! Cari!

The attacker could kill her before she even knew she was in danger. Alarm flared and Grimm tensed, ready to leap up and distract the intruder long enough for Cari to arm herself. He very slowly pulled the blankets away from his legs so he wouldn’t get tangled in them when he lunged.

The figure across the room shifted, his hand with the knife coming up as he took a step.

Grimm braced himself against the frame of the narrow bed, ready to leap.

But the figure with the knife didn’t move toward Cari. He started toward Grimm.

Grimm expelled a soft breath, loosening his bunched muscles as he relaxed back into the bed. The intruder was there for him.

That was good. He was ready.

Grimm’s hand tightened around the narrow hilt of the knife. He braced a foot against the bed and stilled, waiting. The intruder stopped at his locked cell door and pressed something against the reader’s surface. The door snicked open.

Grimm closed his eyes, forced himself to remain perfectly still, and waited for the soft scuff of a footfall beside his bed.

A moment passed. Then another. His hand tightened on the knife and he fought a growing inclination to open his eyes. A deep, rhythmic breathing filled the otherwise silent room. Grimm wondered what the guy was waiting for.

A soft wisp of air was the only warning Grimm got. He flung an arm up and met the downward strike of his attacker with a solid blow that knocked the man’s knife hand skyward. He stumbled back a step as Grimm flew out of the bed, his own knife slicing up to separate the tightly woven fibers of the man’s crimson uniform along the underside of his arm. The man grunted in pain but retaliated with a kick toward Grimm’s knee.

Grimm leapt over the kick and came down with an elbow on the man’s shoulder. Something cracked and the man dropped to one knee, the knife he’d been holding skittering away. Grimm wrapped an arm around the man’s throat, sliding the knife under the clingy black mask he wore over his head.

The mask separated under the sharp edge of Grimm’s blade. No surprise since he’d spent the time in his cell that evening sharpening it on the edge of a stone. Grim tugged the severed fabric off his attacker’s head and flung it away, revealing the pain-filled face of one of his guards. “Who sent you to kill me?”

The man’s expression hardened. He looked straight ahead and held his silence.

Grimm decided he’d let Cari deal with the man. She knew the ways of her ship much better than he did. “Fine,” Grimm told the man. “Suit yourself.” He grabbed the man’s bludgeon from his weapons belt and swung it hard, knocking him out.

Grimm dressed quickly and left the cell, locking the door behind him. He looked toward Cari’s pallet, for the first time realizing that she should have woken up. But when he knelt down and grasped her shoulder, shaking her, he immediately realized why she hadn’t. She was out cold. Most likely drugged. He glanced toward the half full wine goblet sitting on her desk. Someone had spiked her wine and he had no doubt they would have killed her too.

He moved to the door and pressed the pad to open it. Peering around the frame, Grimm took stock of the guards at either end of the hall. There were two at each end and they were heavily armed. More importantly, the guards seemed nervous and unsettled, with wary gazes constantly swinging from right to left.

He stepped back, closing the door. It was obvious to him that Cari was in danger. Someone was executing a coup on the
Morte Stellam
, and he had a pretty good idea who it was.

He returned to Cari and searched beneath her pallet until his hand closed around her weapon. He pulled it free and jammed it into the waistband of his jeans. Then he stepped around her desk and sat down in front of her comm unit.

The first thing they would need was a distraction to pull the guards away from her door.

~AN~

Yeira was seated at her desk, her long red hair sliding over slender shoulders and pooling on the glossy surface beneath her elbows. Audie halted just beyond the portal opening and gave himself a long moment to just enjoy her beauty. It wasn’t often she stopped moving long enough for him to savor her presence in his life.

It seemed they’d barely found each other before treachery and intrigue swirled up around them to dominate their new life together.

As if she felt his perusal, Yeira glanced up and smiled. “Hunter, such a dire face. What’s wrong?”

Audie crossed the room and grabbed her hands, pulling her to her feet and into his arms. “I’m starting to think I should just stay right here in this lair, never leaving it or you.”

Yeira touched his lips with hers, sending a wave of sexual heat rolling through him. She held the kiss long enough to get his blood boiling and thicken his cock. He wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her taut, round buttocks to press his erection into her.

Yeira broke the kiss on a sigh. “As tempted as I am by that idea, and…this…” She cast a heated glance over his form. “I’m in the midst of a crisis.”

Audie stepped away from his woman so he could think coherently. “What is it? Tell me how I can help.”

Yeira turned back to her desk, the surface of which was lit up with a very futuristic image of the galaxy. After learning of a plot by a rogue group of Sorceri to undermine the Authority’s new alliance with the reborn, Audie and Yeira had set up a lair in the year 2180, the era the rogues were functioning within. It had been necessary to immerse themselves in the time in order to locate and follow the rogue group, but Yeira had quickly learned how to use the daunting array of tracking tools available in the epoch.

Audie continued to be impressed by her resilience and intelligence.

She bent over the desktop, really an enormous computer screen that could be manipulated by touch or voice commands, and pointed to a series of fading silver flecks on the screen. “Here’s where the rogues attacked the
Avenging Angel
, a pirate ship that’s friendly to the reborn.”

“Is that the
Angel
?”

Yeira’s face darkened with anger. “What’s left of it.” She pointed to a flashing red dot moving across the void. “This is the
Morte Stellam
. My information is that it’s a rogue ship.”

“How do you know that?”

She pointed a slender finger toward an illuminated blue icon flashing in the
Stellam’s
path. “I’m using a special tracker that sniffs out guide magics. I’ve been watching the
Stellam
for a while and there are clearly Sorceri on board.”

Audie opened his mouth to respond.

Yeira didn’t give him the chance. “I’ve sent the
Beauty
, a reborn fighter vessel disguised as a merchant ship to intercept the
Stellam
.” She frowned.

“But?”

She slid her finger along the desktop, stopping at a large, flashing yellow area. “The
Sorcerer’s Apprentice
is in the area but it’s been immobile for a couple of days. I guess they’ve been undergoing repairs. About five hours ago, right after the
Stellam
blasted the
Angel
into pieces, the
Apprentice
started to move again.” She glanced at Audie. “It’s heading right for the
Beauty
. My people are panicking because they don’t trust the Authority.”

“The
Apprentice
is the Authority’s battle freighter?”

“Yes. At its current direction and speed it should intercept the
Stellam
at the same time we do. Unless we hang back.”

“Why would you do that? I’ve just come from Headquarters. The Huntsman stands by his agreement with you. You are in no danger from the Sorceri, Yeira.”

Her sexy blue gaze narrowed with doubt before it swung away. “I wish I could be as certain of that as you are, hunter. The rogues have begun to infiltrate all of the Authority’s vessels. We no longer know our enemies on sight.” Her fingertip slipped over the fractured remains of the
Angel
. “Captain Gladrial probably had no idea he was about to be attacked until it was too late.”

The first thread of fear and uncertainty wove its way through Audie’s mind and he pulled her close as if he could keep her safe through sheer force of will. “I promise you, I’m doing everything I can to fix this.” He placed his chin on top of her soft, fragrant hair. “I wish you’d let me tell the Huntsman what you are doing. He would support your attempts to stop the rogues.”

She expelled a soft breath against his throat. “I don’t share your optimism on that, hunter. When last we spoke he made it clear he wanted my people cleaning up zombie nests and nothing else. I can’t risk his knowing right now. He might try to stop us.”

“But your people are as much a target of the rogues as the Sorceri are, Yeira. I don’t like knowing that you’re in danger every day.”