He was right behind her.
She sprinted for the nearest clump of trees on rapidly fading legs, her ankle slowing her with stabbing pain. A loose rock turned under her foot and she stumbled, fell to her knees, sharp stones piercing the thick cotton of her work overalls. Hair fell in her eyes and caught at her lips. Go, go, go. She lurched back up onto one foot—
The man rammed her with the force of a steam train, taking her to the ground in a violent rugby tackle. Isa collided with flinty earth, the air driven from her lungs in an unladylike grunt, her teeth puncturing her tongue. Solid weight instantly pinned her flat, compressing her ribs in a painful squeeze. He was all roped muscle and bone, cast from metal and rock. No matter how hard she writhed, nothing dislodged him. She was trapped, her arms pinned under her body.
He wasted no time grabbing her elbows and with a quick snatch he extricated her hands and snagged them against the small of her back. She arched her spine, snapping with her teeth, desperate to catch skin or muscle, struggling for release. If she was going to die, she’d do it fighting. Iron thighs restrained her, but she took satisfaction from the fact that he was panting.
Images of rape fired through her mind and her legs clenched tight in an involuntary reflex. This was it. Now he would rape her and cut her up. Tears stung and blurred her vision.
He leaned forward, his weight shifting higher up her back until his mouth was against her ear.
His voice was low and controlled, surprising her. She’d expected crazy or ferocious. “Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you.” He lifted himself up, giving her more space but still holding her in place.
“I want to help. Quit fighting and then maybe we’ll both survive.”
8
Heath repeated the words against her ear. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
She stilled and the muscular tension pressing against his body softened imperceptibly. Dark hair had fallen across her face but he’d gotten a glimpse of violet-blue eyes, dilated with shock but bright with intelligence.
He jabbed a finger at the devastation that surrounded them in every direction. “Look. The ship crashed.”
A few hundred feet away the front section of the Annie Mae lay twisted and blackened, torn from the rest of the ship. Bile rose in his throat. The Annie Mae was gone, shredded like a paper airplane in the hands of a child. She’d been everything. His home, his job, his only source of income. The safe berth of Buke’s cargo.
He was so fucked.
The warped outline of one of Buke’s containers was nearby, its nose embedded in cracked bedrock.
“What ship?” Her voice was tremulous. “I don’t understand what’s happened.”
“The Annie Mae.” He gestured again, trying to ignore the roar of fear that battered behind his ribs, tying his lungs in knots, but a tremor rocked his arm. He snapped his arm back down before she noticed.
“Your cryo-pod was in there. It was thrown clear on impact but that ripped it free of the life-support systems. That’s why you were running out of air.”
He didn’t mention it still contained three cryo-pods, their insides blackened and destroyed, forcing him to hold his cuff over his nose to filter the stink of charred flesh.
Cryo-pods. With people in them.
His stomach rolled as he struggled to wrap his head around the potential implications. Only star liners with an X1 license were authorized to safely carry human cargo in a state of stasis, definitely not freighters like the Annie Mae. A muscle twitched at his temple. No one would give a shit when he explained he hadn’t known what was on board. They’d be locking his ass up so fast there’d be no time to listen to his excuses.
She grabbed his wrist. Her grip was stronger than her slender fingers suggested. “Get off me. What part of that don’t you understand?”
He tilted her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye, ignoring the softness of her skin and the delicate pressure of her jaw. “I’m going to help you up.”
They needed to get out of here. The Annie Mae was a write-off and he had to find Angie and Jack.
She wrestled against him. “I don’t want help to get up. Please let me go.”
If he let her up she’d bolt. And then he’d have a whole other set of problems on his hands.
“The crew landed some distance from here but they’re alive.” He checked the field pad strapped to his wrist. Their tracking locators were healthy green blips several clicks away. A day’s walk? Maybe two? It was difficult to tell without any knowledge of the terrain, and that was assuming a clear walk. This was Resu. A clear path was unlikely. The entire planet was stuffed full of indigenous predators as well as every lethal extra the authorities could squeeze in. The only city, Ixoth, was not behind a wall without good reason.
He stared at the sky. Enforcement agents would come soon. The crash would have lit up the security barriers around Resu like a fireworks display. He wasn’t stupid enough to think they’d patch him up and send him on. There would be hell to pay for the mess he’d made, and that was before he could even begin to think up an excuse to explain away the cryo-tubes. There was nothing on the Annie Mae that connected to Buke. Everything would come back to him. If he was lucky, he’d get life, but if they were really pissed he’d be taken into orbit and tossed out an airlock.
“I wasn’t on any ship. I was beside my car. I was going to Andrea’s and then… and then…”
She ran out of breath and nonsense and her slim shoulders dipped. Tension strummed through the curve of her spine against his inner thighs. It was like trying to restrain a nervous filly.
He stroked her shoulder, his gesture clumsy. He wasn’t used to calming women. “You’re confused. It’s normal after a period of hyper-sleep. It fries connections, leaves people disoriented, especially when your awakening is abrupt.”
“Hyper-sleep?” A deep line cut between her brows. “What are you talking about?”
A worm of unease wriggled low in his gut. How did she not know she’d been in hyper-sleep?
Something exploded nearby with an ear-cracking pop and they both started. He’d worry about that later. Right now, he had to get her out of here.
He tightened his grip on her wrists, preparing to lift her. “The Reserve is patrolled. We really don’t want to be here when they get here.”
“Reserve? When who gets here?” She writhed again, her body rubbing against him as she struggled to be free. “Why can’t we be here? We need help. We shouldn’t be running away. I need to phone my friend…”
She really thought she was still on Earth. Hair pricked on the back of his scalp. Something was seriously amiss here. “This is Resu. We’re not on Earth anymore.”
Her mouth fell open but the brief explanation would have to do for now. There would be time for explanations later. And questions. Like how the hell she’d ended up in the cargo hold of the Annie Mae.
He continued, “The security patrols aren’t known for their people skills. Trust me, we need to stick together and we need to leave now.”
She wasn’t giving in. “Please, let me go.”
Heath growled and gave a jerking shake of his head. It was his fault she was here, his ship that she’d been on. There was no way in hell he was going to let her go wandering off. “We’re going together. You got that? I’m not going to hurt you.”
He upped the pressure on her wrists to make his point. “Do you understand? I’m going to help you up on to your feet and you are going to do as you’re told.”
“Mmm.” She nodded, her eyes scrunched tight. He had no idea if she was going to fight him or not. Smoke stung his eyes and clogged his throat. “We don’t have time for this. When I let you up, you’re going to stay calm and not freak out.”
She stilled and he could almost hear the cogs in her brain whirring. “Okay.”
Something exploded within the remaining front section of the Annie Mae. He flinched. Time had just run out.
With an easy lift, he yanked her from the ground and set her on her feet. She glowered
at him with fierce eyes, her chest rising and falling in rapid pants. Dirt streaked the apples of her cheeks. She was smaller than him, shapely curves fighting against her thick unisex overalls. Shoulder length hair fell over her shoulders in disarray. He expected to see fear on her face, but her gaze steadied, challenging him
Guests of the Reserve were usually wealthy men. They arrived in luxury, not strapped into the trunk of an interplanetary smuggler’s ride. The small dark-haired woman eyeing him from across the scorched dirt was clearly not a guest. It didn’t make any sense.
A nametag was clipped to her breast pocket. He angled it so it was readable, ignoring the tension that emanated from her in radioactive waves.
Isa.
He liked it. It suited her. Short but strong.
“Isa…” He gestured in the direction of the Annie Mae. “Fuel’s leaking. We need to get out of here.”
He pushed her forward, shouldering his backpack, directing her away from the smoldering wreck and toward the rocky horizon. Heath took a final glance over his shoulder at the Annie Mae and blew out a breath as reality settled as a leaden weight on his shoulders. The Annie Mae was gone and he was stranded on a planet cultivated for the sole purpose of death dressed up as entertainment.
He swiped his field pad off.
“How can we not be on Earth? It doesn’t…Oh my God.”
Goddamn. In the second he took his eyes off her, she’d edged close to one of the other cryo-pods. She clamped her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide. The glass was an explosion of red blood and gray brain matter.
Shit.
He closed the distance between them in a few short strides, grabbed her hand, and yanked her away. “Stop wandering around. Come here.”
Tears welled in her eyes and slid down her cheek, streaking her skin clean. Something flickered in his belly. Damn, he hated to see a woman cry. It was his fucking kryptonite.
He tugged her against him and wrapped his arms around her. “It’s okay.” She leaned into him, her soft warmth filling his arms with a trust he didn’t deserve. He was the reason she was here. He released her and gave her shoulder a squeeze. That was safer.
Her voice was small and fragile. “What the hell is going on?”
He opened his mouth to answer but flames were reflected in her pupils.
Shit. He whipped his head around. Fire lashed in tongues of scarlet and orange from the depths of the shattered Annie Mae.
“We haven’t got—”
A series of explosions detonated in a rapid-fire rat-a-tat that pounded the ground under his feet.
Heath grabbed Isa, shielding her with his body as a wall of heat slammed them earthward. Grass flattened around him, and bushes strained in the scorching air pressure that blasted from the wreckage.
It was interminable seconds before the heat subsided enough for him to crawl back up onto his feet. The skin on the back of his neck stung. He fingered it tentatively. Burned. It was probably going to blister.
He’d worry about that later. “Come on.” He took Isa’s hand. The gesture calmed him. So much had spun out of his direct control in such a short space of time. But this he could do.
Keep her safe.
9
Isa hurried alongside her tall rescuer or attacker. She still hadn’t decided on the category yet. He glanced over his shoulder, checking she was following, but with the steely grip he maintained on her hand, that was never in doubt.
Underfoot, the ground was an assault course of razor-edged rocks and stringy bushes intent on tripping her up. Her mind scattered and panicked, seeking to piece together the chaos she’d woken up to. Hot air, ripe with the stink of fuel, buffeted her back.
The last thing she recalled was the light over Dartmoor and her hovercar and phone giving up the ghost. Then she’d woken up on Resu.
Abduction.
The word rolled out of nowhere and around her brain like a cold marble. She’d been taken and brought here for a reason.
Behind her, the burning ship was a brilliant glow on the horizon, the flames reflected on the facets of rock shards mixed in with the sand. She knew of Resu, that it was a game reserve but not much more.
Isa slowed, drawing her fists closer to her side, forcing him to drop his speed. She needed answers.
He turned to face her, his lips thinning into a narrow line of displeasure. “We don’t have time for this.”
He pulled again, but she dug her heels in, dropping her weight lower. If he wanted her to come now, he’d have to pick her up and carry her. She swallowed. God, she hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
“Yeah, I know, but no, seriously. I’m not going anywhere with you. I have no idea who you are or—”
“My name is Heath.”
His voice was deep and pushed through her like honey. Another time, another place, she might have thought it was sexy.
But not here. Or now. Now she’d had enough of whatever the hell this was and wanted to go home.
She eyed him, painfully aware of her labored, panicked breathing. Slow down, girl. You’re going to hyperventilate.
“Tell me how I got on your ship?”
He released her hand, a long low whistle escaping from him as he searched for words. Isa folded her arms. Night had not yet arrived but it had already been dusk on Dartmoor. Somewhere, she’d missed at least a day. Or more. Dread settled into the pit of her stomach.
Something flickered over his features, too quick for her to catch what it was but definitely there. He knew something. Something he wasn’t telling her, even if she was in the dark as to what it was yet.
“I don’t know.” He ran a hand across the top of his hair. His forearms flexed, showing sinew and muscle. He hesitated and then pointed over her shoulder.
She didn’t want to look. Isa huffed out a low breath and turned on her heel. The horizon was visible for the first time and the sun was setting, hanging low in the sky. The sun was not alone. Three other planets hung suspended in the approaching night, two ringed with soft-hued bands and one surrounded by a rocky asteroid belt that looked close enough to touch.
Her breath stalled. Even though she’d accepted what he said about Resu, the reality of his words hadn’t sunk in.
“This isn’t Earth.” Her voice was a squeak, sounding alien even to her own ears. Part of her—the scared, freaked out part of her—had been holding out for a joke.
The joke was on her. This was real.
He sighed. “I said as much. This is Resu. The Reserve.” He said it as if that explained everything when in fact it explained nothing.
She stuffed her hands in her pockets and closed her fist around the tatty tissue she found there. She stroked it between her fingers, seeking normalcy. Something, anything to ground her.
She chewed on her lip. “I’ve heard of Resu. It’s a hunting reserve beyond the Ellipsis.”
She stared at him, willing him to correct her but resignation painted his features.
“Yes.” He adjusted his backpack. “I’m sorry.” He tugged at his ripped tunic. “We were both on the Annie Mae—the freighter that brought us here.”
She glanced around, sucking in her lower lip, her palms suddenly damp, grateful for his company even if he was a stranger.
None of this made any sense. “Why would anyone put me in cryo-sleep on a freighter? Don’t I need to give permission or sign disclaimers for that?” Her voice rose in pitch, panic creeping in. She plucked at her clothes as if there were hidden documents. “I don’t even have a passport.”
He scuffed dirt with his foot. He had long legs. Defined muscle shifted under the black fabric of his pants. Why was she even noticing these things?
He evaded her gaze. “I’m sorry, I don’t have those answers.”
Her voice faded as the enormity of the situation sank deeper. “What would anyone want with me?”
He tapped the small black screen on his wrist, ignoring her question. “We need to find Angie and Jack.”
“Who are they? Were they i
n the pods like us?”
Something unreadable flitted across his face again. Something that she didn’t understand.
He cleared his throat. “They were on the ship too. They’re crew.” His tone became more insistent as he changed the subject. “We don’t want to be out in the open once it’s dark.” Then he turned and headed off, the speed of his stride unaffected by the treacherous ground. This time he wasn’t waiting for her.
“What happens here once it’s dark?” She stumbled on her heel, wildly searching around her, fear ratcheting her pulse higher. “Please. Wait.” She racked her brain trying to remember any scrap of information about Resu. She’d seen it on a BBC documentary when it had first been discovered.
“The locals aren’t friendly.” He didn’t even look at her.
She remembered now. Some squillionaire had snapped up the planet that no one wanted and turned it into a goldmine. Rich people came here to hunt.
She flexed her hands by her sides and blew out a long breath. Whatever was happening here, she was still breathing.
He’d stopped on the crest of a rocky outcrop to check the field pad on his arm.
She’d no idea if he was a good or bad guy. But he’d gotten her out of that damn pod. That had to mean something. She scrubbed at her upper arms. Who was she kidding? No one was coming to rescue her. It was him or nothing.
A screeching hyena-like call cut through the air.
“What the—” The hairs on the back of her neck jumped to attention, and a shiver cracked her spine. She wasn’t hanging around to meet whatever made that racket. She broke into a trot to draw level with him.
She took a deep breath. “I’m Isabella, but everyone calls me Isa.”
His brow crinkled and the corners of his mouth tugged upward.
The sickening knots of tension in her body loosened a little at his smile. It softened the lines of worry marking his face.
“This way.” His instruction was a low, throaty grumble.
“So…” She tried to catch her breath as she followed his long, effortless strides. Scrambling over the rocks was hard going. Every muscle in her body ached as if she were coming down with flu, her skin tingled wherever her clothes touched, and her head was a concrete band of pain.
Hunted Page 4
