Challenging Saber (17 page)

“I’m scared,” she mumbled before a deep sigh escaped her and he knew she was asleep.

“So am I,” Saber murmured, rubbing his chin back and forth against her hair. “I’m afraid of losing you,” he added in a barely audible voice.

Saber watched as Dagger carefully lifted Lonnie in his arms nearly three hours later. The sun was high in the sky. It was not the best time to be traveling, but they had little choice in the matter. Thunder and Sword had spotted troop movements in the South and reported that it looked like a patrol was coming to do a closer inspection of the fortress. They had managed to find a lone land transport. It was a small, two-seat vehicle used for low level patrols. Razor had ordered Thunder and Sword to leave immediately.

“We need the reconnaissance information,” Razor said with a frown. “There is more to this than the Waxians wanting ore.”

“Let’s go. If we don’t move now, we stand a good chance of being found,” Hunter responded, studying Taylor’s relaxed face. “She looks a lot like Leila when she is sleeping.”

Saber carefully lifted Taylor up in his arms. She was so exhausted that she didn’t even move. He stared down at her for a moment before he brushed a kiss across her forehead.

“She sleeps like her too when she is exhausted,” Saber replied before his expression darkened. “How long before the patrols get here?”

“An hour,” Hunter replied. “Achler appears convinced we didn’t survive, otherwise they would have been here earlier.”

Saber gave Hunter a sharp-toothed grin as he walked past him. “He’ll realize his mistake when I kill him,” he retorted.

“Who are you killing now?” Taylor asked sleepily, turning her face into his chest when the bright sun hit her face. “Ugh! Can someone please turn off the sun?”

The small group of men chuckled at her grumbling. She peeked out at Lonnie when she heard his giggle and winked. A smile curved Saber’s lips. This was the Taylor he knew.

He carefully lowered her onto the makeshift floor of the air Catamaran they had constructed while she and Lonnie were sleeping. He would ride on it with Taylor and Lonnie. Each of the other men would double up, one operating the skid while the other provided coverage.

“Wow! This turned out pretty cool,” Taylor said, rubbing her eyes before they widened. “My backpack!” She exclaimed excitedly. “Where did you find it?”

“I found it in the rubble,” Hunter said with a smile. I recognized it immediately from all the patches you have on it.”

Taylor eagerly pulled it into her lap and unzipped it. Her fingers trembled as she pulled out the pictures she had stowed inside. Her fingers touched the cracked glass. It could be replaced. Fortunately, the picture of her, Jesse, Jordan, and their dad remained undamaged. Raising her eyes to Hunter, she gave him a watery smile.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Hunter’s expression softened. “I’m glad that it was found,” he said in a gruff voice before turning to Razor. “We had better be going. I want to put as much distance as possible between us and the patrol. Once Achler realizes we survived, he’ll come looking for us.”

“Where are we heading?” Taylor asked, repacking the picture.

“We will have to head north before we can curve around to the east. The Western faction has patrols all along the borders,” he explained.

“But… That’s the way the other captives were heading,” she said in concern. “The guy with the purple eyes told them to head to the mountains of the Crescent Moon.”

“They know the Western sector well enough to know how to avoid them,” Hunter said with a shrug. “If they don’t, there is not much we can do about it.”

Taylor sighed. “Being a soldier sucks,” she muttered, clutching her backpack to her chest.

Saber touched the bruise on her chin. “There is never a good side to war. Many innocent people are the ones who truly suffer,” he murmured. “A true soldier does what he can to protect them.”

Taylor rubbed her cheek against his hand before sitting back as the skids moved forward. It was a little jerky at first as the men tested the best speed and distance apart to travel to keep the items they had salvaged and Taylor, Saber, and Lonnie from flying off. Saber quietly explained that they built a frame with supports before covering it with a large tarp and attaching it to the three remaining skids.

“Your idea was brilliant,” he said. “We were able to bring additional weapons, as well as essential survival equipment like food and water that the others salvaged.”

Taylor shook her head. “You’re right, I am brilliant,” she teased. “I would have thought of the food and water before the weapons.”

Saber’s expression sobered. “Weapons can be just as much as a necessity, Taylor. This is a lawless land. Without a way to protect yourself, food and water will do little to save you.”

Taylor sighed and looked at Lonnie. Saber turned his head, following where she was looking. Her face was so expressive. He could sit and watch the different emotions dance across her face all day.

He saw that she was staring at the boy. Lonnie was leaning against a box staring out at the desert. The boy looked so young. He couldn’t remember being that young. He turned his gaze back to Taylor. Both she and Lonnie’s lives had been torn apart when they were just beginning. At least he had known a stable home life, where he could be young before he began his training.

He reached over and ran his finger along her hand, smiling when she immediately turned it over so she could wind her fingers through his. A satisfied smile curved his lips. He had been such an idiot the past five years.

“How is your leg?” She asked, tightening her fingers around his as if afraid her question would cause him to pull away from her.

“Stiff,” he admitted. “I went to the healer the day I found out about your disappearance.”

Taylor looked up at him. “What did he say?” She asked with a slight tremble in her voice.

Saber sighed and looked down at her briefly before returning his gaze to the desolate landscape. His right hand moved down to rub his leg. He squeezed her fingers.

“I should have talked to you,” he admitted. “The bone wasn’t healing correctly. Too much of it had been shattered. The first healers who attended to me were able to clean most of the fragment out and repair some of the damage done. I wasn’t able to do much physical therapy due to the bone not healing, and the area around it continued to fracture.”

Taylor nodded. “I’m surprised they didn’t amputate your leg. I saw the scans. I’m not a healer, but I could see the extent of the damage. The nerves and muscles were in bad shape, too,” she said. “After your third surgery, the healer highly recommended removing it and fitting you with a robotic leg, but you refused.”

“How did you see the scans?” Saber asked, scowling down at her. “Are you telling me that you’ve known all along what has been happening?”

“Of course,” she replied with a sigh. “I had Jordan hack into your medical records. Every time any updates were done, I was sent a copy of it.”

A grumble of disbelief escaped him. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He demanded, shaking his head.

Taylor chuckled before she leaned over to brush a kiss to his lips. “Because I knew that you would probably have stopped going to the healer. You can be very hard-headed when you get your mind stuck on something. I was afraid if you knew, you wouldn’t let me come over anymore. I followed along with the recommended therapy from the healers. It was important to keep your other muscles strong. With the damage to your leg, it would throw off your posture and would affect the rest of your body,” she explained.

“And if it was necessary…,” he paused and drew in a deep breath before continuing. “What would you have done if they had decided to take my leg?”

Taylor leaned into him. “Love you, help you, be there for you, and love you some more,” she replied.

“Shewta!”
Saber whispered, shaking his head. “You must truly love me to have put up with everything I put you through.”

Taylor chuckled. “Yeah, well, payback is a bitch and I think she had puppies in your case. I still remember your comment the day I left. I’ve had plenty of time to think of how you can grovel. I’ve come up with a ton of really good ideas,” she remarked with a teasing smile. “Is there any water?”

“Yes, in the bag to your left. Get one for Lonnie, as well,” Saber replied. “The heat will dehydrate you both more than it will us.”

“Show off,” Taylor teased before turning on her hands and knees to reach for the bag.

A low rumble escaped Saber as his gaze swept over the curve of Taylor’s ass. He turned when he felt another set of eyes on them. Ace’s gaze was glued to Taylor as well. He shot the other male a look of warning.

“She’s mine,” Saber snarled.

Ace raised an eyebrow and looked at Saber’s wrists before he glanced over at Taylor. “I don’t see your mark on her,” he replied.

Saber’s hand moved to the rifle at his side. “She’s mine,” he repeated. “Do not challenge me, Ace. I will kill for her.”

Ace didn’t reply. His gaze flickered to where Taylor was sitting next to the boy. Saber watched the male until he returned his attention back to the landscape. Pulling down his MMOS, he zoomed into the distance. Over the fortress, he could barely make out a fighter transport firing down into the structure. It would appear Achler decided he didn’t want to take any chances.

*.*.*

Prymorus Achler leaned back in his chair and stared moodily at the holographic map. In the background, he could hear several men talking, including the Kassisan that had been ‘assigned’ to him. He didn’t trust the bastard. He fingered his drink as he thought about what had happened during the night.

The Kassisan had saved his life, but if he expected any special consideration or appreciation for that fact, he was in the wrong company. The Waxians were mercenaries. They liked to kill and they liked to make money. Most of the time, they did it for both, but on a few rare occasions, they did it for pleasure. The one thing they never did was keep a dangerous enemy for too long.

Cordus Kelman had done that. The Drethulans had hired a dozen Waxian warlords to do two things: deliver enough weapons to destroy the Alliance forces and discover the Trivator’s weakness. Kelman’s detailed records of the Trivator he used in the fight rings had shown them that when it came to fighting – and surviving – the warrior species were second to none. The fact that Kelman’s experiment earned him a fortune was proof of that.

He had been doubtful when the other Waxian told him about his plans. Capture several Trivators and use them in the fight ring to observe how they fought, what their endurance and pain level tolerance were, and how long they could keep fighting.

Prymorus had an idea that the Trivator would still be making Kelman credits if the bastard hadn’t killed him. The only good thing that came out of Kelman’s experiment was finally finding the Trivators’ one weakness… their females. The Trivators might protect those that are weaker, but as Razor had proven, they could also look the other way if it meant destroying an enemy – except when it came to a female that was under their protection.

Which meant a mated Trivator would do anything for his female, including not attacking those that held her as a prisoner for fear of harming her,
Prymorus thought, playing with the knife as he continued to study the map.

“You appear deep in thought,” the Kassisan commented, walking toward the table where Prymorus was sitting.

A flash of anger went through him when the huge bastard placed a bottle of his most expensive liquor down on the table and poured two glasses. He watched suspiciously as the man pushed a glass in front of him before sitting down in the chair facing him. His gaze was drawn to the man’s hands.

“I don’t remember inviting you to partake of my best liquor, Dakar,” Prymorus snapped, leaning forward to snatch the bottle from across the table.

Dakar chuckled, fingering the glass before slowly raising it to his lips and taking a sip. Prymorus watched as the Kassisan seemed to savor it before swallowing. A small part of him wished the fiery liquor would burn a hole through the man’s chest.

“It is too good to waste sitting in a bottle and growing stale,” Dakar replied with a shrug. “The fighter transports destroyed the fortress, why waste time and resources on returning there?”

Prymorus turned his gaze back to the map. “I’ve sent a patrol to make sure that nothing survived. I don’t want to take a chance of any of those Trivator warriors making it out,” he growl in frustration. “The girl was key to my plans. She is under the protection of two of the most powerful Trivators in the Alliance.”

“Did you ever find out how she escaped?” Dakar asked, looking at the fortress. “It is a long way from the tower to the lower catacombs where the other prisoners were being held.”

Prymorus’ gaze narrowed and he shook his head. “I was too busy trying to kill those Trivator bastards to investigate. It seems strange that they missed you as you were wandering around the fortress. They killed many of my men before the alarm was sounded, but somehow passed you by,” he observed.

Dakar simply raised his drink and took a sip. The man was too cool, too controlled, and too lucky for Prymorus’ taste. Dakar had departed
The Hole
on the Bruttus Spaceport in the Tessalon galaxy shortly before the Drethulan, Jolin Talja, was killed. A group of Trivators had arrived to rescue the other caged warrior.

Last night, Dakar had appeared out of the shadows and pushed him out of the line of fire that would have killed him. What bothered him was that he had seen the Kassisan in action. He never missed his target, yet last night he had missed every time he aimed at one of the Trivator warriors.

“I’ve sent a patrol back to the fortress to make sure there were no survivors,” Prymorus added, sipping his drink. “I’ve also ordered increased patrols along the border. We need to harvest as much ore as possible.”

“Production is at full capacity,” Dakar replied with a raised eyebrow. “The workers are already stretched as far as they can go.”