LyonsPrice (11 page)

As soon as she thought it, she saw the opening. Holding her
breath, she punched the coordinates in and sent the shuttle hurtling toward it.
The two Fleet ships tried to maneuver to cover the small alley of opportunity.
Gritting her teeth, she tried to coax a little more out of the engines. If she
could just get past them, they’d be in the asteroid belt.

The small shuttle slipped between the two bigger ships, the
alarm klaxons nearly deafening her as their bulk blotted out the light of the
stars around them. Praying fervently, she closed her eyes and squealed as they
barreled down the narrow gap. Any moment now they were going to be crushed
between the two larger ships.

Fear and misery rose in her throat. She’d tried, she’d
really tried, but it just wasn’t good enough. She was a nurse, not a trained
commando like Lyon nor a kick-ass pilot like Archon or Cael.

The klaxons fell silent. Hardly daring to believe it, she
cracked an eyelid open. A field of stars was visible through the asteroid belt
in front of her.

“Woohoo!”

Relief and elation hit her like both barrels from a shotgun
as the small vessel roared into the asteroid field at top speed. There was no
way the bigger ships could follow them through here, and by the time they went
around it, they’d be long gone.

“We did it!” she crowed, turning around to look at Lyon,
only to find his eyes open and looking directly at her. He was awake. He’d seen
her piloting the shuttle away from the Fleet ships. He
had
to believe
her now.

Then the Fleet ships opened fire.

Cannon fire slammed into the little shuttle, impacting the
shields and sending it tumbling through the asteroid belt. They careened and
crashed through the huge lumps of rock. One more volley from a cannon array
would be it for them. The shuttle’s shields wouldn’t be able to take concerted
fire.

Samara swore as she tried to hold on to the main console,
but it was no good. She’d made sure everyone else was secure, but hadn’t
clipped her own harness into place. The contents of the overhead lockers fell
around them, a large box landing on Archon. His cursing over the commlink was
enough to blister paint.

Another volley from the Fleet ships slammed into the back of
the shuttle, catching the back end as Samara tried to get them behind the cover
of an asteroid. They careened to the side and tipped, slamming into another smaller
lump of rock.

The shuttle rolled, almost lazily. Samara screamed, a sound
abruptly cut off as the console in front of her exploded in a shower of sparks.

No!
Lyon roared as they rolled and she was thrown
about like a rag doll. Fear for her safety rolled through his body in an
unstoppable wave, a fear so complete it would have paralyzed him if he wasn’t
already. She was unconscious, unable to protect herself as they tumbled, and
she was only human. She wasn’t designed to take the sort of damage he was.

The alarms started up again. This time they weren’t anything
as benign as collision warnings. Imminent shield failure. Sliding, they came to
a stop against another asteroid, the interior lights flickering as the computer
gave multiple system warnings. Samara hit the far wall and slid down it into a
small heap across the destroyed pilot’s console.

He latched his gaze on her, and pushed against the lock on
his body as though he could break through it by sheer willpower alone. He
couldn’t see whether she was breathing or not and there was blood on the side
of her face.

His heart stuttered. If she was dead, he’d never forgive
himself. She’d offered him nothing but tenderness and comfort…and some very hot
sex…yet he’d kidnapped her and accused her of betraying them. Of betraying him.

Despite that, she’d done her best to get them out of the
clutches of the Fleet. At the risk of her own life. A large knot of something
thickened his throat as he threw everything he had into making his systems boot
up quicker.

Aieee, I’m out!
Cael announced triumphantly. The
shuttle flared to life. The interior lights snapped on, the alarms cut out and
the dull roar of the engines filled his ears.
And we are…outta here.

The view in the front screen changed. Cael whipped the small
vessel around and drove them farther into the asteroid belt. Asteroids
shattered around them as the Fleet vessels, unable to follow in the densely
packed field, resorted to bombarding it with cannon fire. They didn’t have a
hope in hell’s chance of hitting them, not with Cael at the helm. Not only was
she a qualified combat pilot, but her mental net could sync directly with the
shuttle, meaning woman and machine became one entity.

Get us out the other side and jumped before they can get
around
, Lyon ordered, breathing deeply as the lock on his body eased and
all his systems came back online. He didn’t bother with the normal diagnostic
checks he should run after an EMP. Instead he launched himself out of his seat,
over Archon as he struggled with the webbing straps pinning him to the floor
and to Samara’s side.

She was draped over the console like a broken doll, a trail
of blood running down the side of her face to drip onto the shattered
Plexiglas. He’d fought in wars, been at the forefront of a rebellion and faced
his own death many times, but Lyon had never been as afraid as he was now,
looking down at the woman he loved, afraid to touch her in case she was dead.

Indecision held him prisoner for less than a second. The
fact that he loved her spurred him on. No quibbles, no soul searching about
this new feeling. Just acceptance.

Steeling himself, he reached out and wrapped his large hand
around her delicate wrist, using his fingertips to search for a pulse. Nothing.
His heart stopped, the blood draining from his face. She couldn’t be dead, she
just couldn’t. Not after all this.

Stepping in, he turned her over. She went easily, like a rag
doll. A growl of denial escaped his lips. Lyon pressed two fingers into her
throat and willed her to live. If she didn’t, then he wasn’t going to be
responsible for his actions. He’d find a way back to the
Valkyrie
and
that bastard Marisol–Lees and teach him a lesson about using his own crew as
bait.

There. He shifted his fingers as he felt a tiny movement,
trying to isolate it. Relief and euphoria hit him like a shuttle at jump speed
as he found a weak pulse. It was weak, but she was still alive.

“Archon, get me a med-kit, now!” he demanded, large hands
moving over his little nurse, checking for injuries. She was alive and he intended
to keep her that way.

“How’s she doing?”

Archon poked his head around the door to the main cabin
three hours later. His dark eyes were concerned and Lyon could sense the
questions just waiting to pour from the Gemini’s lips.

He reached out and smoothed Samara’s dark hair back from her
face. Curled up on her side, she was sleeping. He’d dressed the wound on her
scalp. It had looked worse than it was. His heart had been in his throat and
his hands shaking as he’d cleaned it up, which was something he’d never
encountered before.

He’d patched himself and members of his team up more times
than he could remember. Hell, he and Cael had even rebuilt Archon’s shoulder
once. Mind you, they’d had to get him drunk to stop him turning around and
trying to help.

“She’s doing well. Still needs a proper check over, but the
scans are clean.”

Archon nodded, relief showing on his face. Other than
yelling for a med-kit, Lyon hadn’t let anyone near the petite human. Archon had
tried to help and received a growl for his troubles. As far as Lyon saw it, she
was here because of him and she was his responsibility.

Still hovering by the door, Archon shuffled his feet. His
signal he wanted to say something else. Lyon looked up, narrowing his gaze on
the other man. At least the randy Gemini wasn’t ogling Samara’s figure anymore.

“What is it?”

Archon flushed a little, a banner of color across his
cheekbones.

“We’ve been thinking…”

Uh-oh.
He knew that “we”. That “we” meant that the
two Geminis and Cael had been talking behind his back and that he was about to
get railroaded into something. He frowned a little, realizing that although
he’d been thinking of Cael and Archon together earlier, it was more of the
three of them that were a unit, not just the two. Interesting, perhaps he needed
to lock all of them up in that room on their own and see what happened.

“She did really well, boss. Don’t be too hard on her, ‘kay?”

Archon disappeared back through the door before he could
answer. Lyon sat back in the chair next to the bed and looked at his little
prize. So much courage in such a delicate little frame. He’d wondered what it
was about her that had drawn him in and now he knew. For all his ingrained
superiority about the cyborg versus the human race, it had been her, an
unenhanced human, who had put her life on the line in a way he hadn’t expected
to save them.

She was not just his equal, she was his superior. And if
she’d have him after this, there was no way he was letting her go.

Chapter Nine

Samara woke slowly. She’d never been one for waking quickly,
as many an abused alarm clock would attest to, but today she wallowed in the
comfortable warmth and darkness before full consciousness started to intrude.

She ached. It felt like she’d been worked over with a stick
or she’d gone elitist in the gym with the hardcore program. Just a little
longer and she’d get up, it was too warm and comfortable here. It was only when
voices intruded on her doze that her brain started to clear the fuzz of sleep
out.

“So, she’ll be okay? The guys were worried about her when
she didn’t wake up.”

She frowned. The voice was familiar, but she was still too
sleepy to put two and two together. It was a nice voice, though, and the
feelings it invoked were a sense of security mixed with something else.
Something a lot hotter.

“Yes, physically she’s fine. A few bumps and scrapes, as to
be expected with your mission report. If what you said is true, she really did
get off lightly there. She isn’t built to take that kind of damage. Other than
that, the results show she’s slightly anemic and lacking certain vitamins and
minerals. In short, it looks like she’s been riding the edge of exhaustion for
a while.”

The reply came in a female voice with a cadence Samara
recognized. Doctors across the galaxy all spoke very much the same way. Which
meant the ache she was feeling wasn’t from anything as benign as a hard
workout.

“Okay. So I can take her home?”

She struggled to full wakefulness as a door was pushed open
fully and the voices grew louder.

“Of course, as soon as she wakes up. But make sure she rests
and gets plenty to eat. Ah, looks like she’s waking up. I’ll leave you two to
it.”

She opened her eyes and blinked about owlishly. She was in a
small room, the door of which opened onto an unremarkable corridor. The smell
of antiseptic and the generic bedding clued her into the fact she was in a
medical center of some kind.

It was the tall, broad-shouldered figure by the door that
drew most of her attention. The doctor disappeared through the door as she
looked at him. Lyon. The sight of him brought memories rushing to the fore in a
wave so powerful and insistent that she gasped with the strength of it.

Erotic memories…the two of them entwined, his lips on hers,
his cock impaling her…brought a flush of heat to her cheeks even as those
memories fought for space with others that weren’t so nice. The memory of his
face as he’d accused her of betraying him. Even now, Lord knew how many hours
or days removed, she could recall the blank expression on his face and the
condemnation and hatred in his eyes.

She’d done her best, tried to save them all when the Fleet
ships came, but the careful, guarded expression on his face as he watched her
now said it all. Nothing she’d done had changed things. She’d cut herself off
from her people, her entire species, on the off chance of making things right
and it hadn’t worked.

Misery and bitterness overwhelmed her. Shuffling in the bed,
she tried to sit up. There was no way she wanted to be lying down and helpless,
not in front of him.
Especially
not in front of him. Her human weakness
would be just another thing about her for him to despise. Just another reason
for him to get rid of her.

They’d made it to safety, so what now? Was he going to ship
her out on the next shuttle, banished from his presence… Or was she going to be
kept prisoner here, seeing the man she loved, but unable to touch him or even
tell him how she felt.

“Hey, hey. Not so fast.”

Before she could manage to sit up, he was there. She gasped
as her head started to spin and clung on, determined not to pass out.

“Doc says you sustained a nasty concussion, so you might
want to take it easy. No need to conquer worlds, kicking the Fleet’s butt is
enough for one day.”

She sighed in relief as strong hands supported her and eased
her back against the pillows. Then the warm tone of his voice registered. She
frowned as she looked at him, expecting to see the same hard expression as
before. It wasn’t there. Instead his green eyes were open and warm, a slight
quirky smile on his lips as he brushed her hair back from her face.

“My hair isn’t that messy,” she pointed out when he did it
again.

He smiled, an off-center, lopsided expression that
threatened the tight hold she had on her heart. Despite the scars on his body
and face and the tattoo on his cheek that marked him as a cyborg, that smile
oozed pure masculine charm.

“I know, but I need an excuse to keep touching you. At least
that way, I have a chance of getting out what I need to say before you call
security and get me kicked out.”