Storm of Eon (Eon Warriors Book 7)

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Storm of Eon (Eon Warriors Book 7) Page 5

by Anna Hackett


  “Oh.” Sensing something in his hard tone, Whitney looked uncomfortable.

  Sabin saw Finley pause at the restrooms and slip inside.

  Whitney eyed Rade and the warrior lifted his drink, clearly not wanting to be Whitney’s next target.

  Sabin frowned at the restroom door, waiting for Finley to return.

  His communicator pinged. He pulled it out and saw a call from Malax.

  “Excuse me.” He stepped away from Whitney. “Malax.”

  His war commander looked grim. “Sabin.”

  Sabin’s hand clenched on the communicator. “What?”

  “We received intel on the Kantos assassins from Davion on the Desteron.” War Commander Davion Thann-Eon was the first warrior to mate with a Terran, after Eve Traynor had abducted him.

  “It appears the assassins work in a small pack. Usually, three or four assassins and their stalkers.”

  Sabin swallowed a curse. “So, there are likely more here.”

  “Yes. They’re bred for stealth, very good at avoiding detection, and very focused on their target.”

  Which meant they’d try to attack Finley again.

  “Sabin?” Rade moved closer.

  Gadon was right behind him, frowning.

  “The Kantos sent a team of the assassins after Finley,” Sabin told them.

  The other warriors scowled.

  “Sabin, keep her safe, and get the StarStorm operational,” Malax said. “Fast.”

  “Yes, War Commander.”

  “Security Commander?” Admiral Barber appeared, Captain Rodriguez behind her. “Is there a problem?”

  “My war commander just confirmed that the Kantos didn’t send just one assassin, they sent a team of assassins after Finley.”

  The admiral gasped and Captain Rodriguez cursed.

  Sabin looked at the bathroom door again. Finley had been gone a long time.

  He felt a prickle along his senses. He strode across the room.

  “Security Commander!” the Admiral called.

  He reached the door. Whitney was standing nearby with some other women.

  “That’s the ladies’,” Whitney said. “You can’t go in there.”

  He shoved the door open.

  The tiled room was empty.

  The window was blown out, just ragged shards of glass left behind.

  There was no sign of Finley.

  “Rade! Gadon!” he bellowed.

  Then, heedless of the fact that he was two stories up, Sabin leaped out the window.

  Finley stomped into the bathroom, her belly churning.

  Ugh. She pressed her hands to the edge of the sink. She was a mess. She was angry, jealous, hurt.

  See, this was why she steered clear of men.

  Last night, Sabin had just switched off. It was clear that despite the attraction between them, he didn’t want her enough. He’d turned it off like it didn’t matter. Like she was so easily ignored and shunted aside.

  Every other man had easily ignored her, so she shouldn’t be surprised.

  Yet, he’d comforted her after her nightmare and stayed with her until she’d fallen asleep.

  She looked in the mirror. An ugly twist of emotions tightened in her chest. She barely knew the man. Hell, she’d agreed they should keep things professional.

  But her body didn’t agree.

  Then he let pretty, pouty Whitney crawl all over him.

  Finley blew out a breath. Okay, maybe not crawl over him, exactly, but there was definite flirting going on. He’d smiled at her.

  “Oh, your muscles are so big.” Finley rolled her eyes. Then she caught her gaze in the mirror.

  She wanted him. She wanted Sabin’s big arms around her. After her nightmare, she’d dreamed about him the rest of the night.

  “Goddammit.” She was all messed up. There was a hot ball of hurt and jealousy in her chest, and she clearly wasn’t focused on her project. “Get yourself together, Finley.”

  She raised her head.

  And met the multi-eyed gaze of a Kantos assassin right behind her.

  Finley’s adrenaline spiked, and she opened her mouth to scream.

  The alien lunged.

  It wrapped his arms and wings around her, and all she could see was black.

  A clawed hand slammed over her mouth. She jerked and bit it. Oh, yuck, she was biting an insectoid alien.

  The alien made a sound and spun toward the window. Its wings shifted enough for her to see the grassy area, two stories down.

  Oh, no.

  It lifted its other hand, and she saw that it was holding a small device.

  Suddenly, the window shattered soundlessly, glass falling like it had been put on mute.

  The device was somehow canceling the sound.

  She fought and twisted, but the creature’s wings were holding her too tight.

  Then the alien jumped out the window.

  Finley screamed against the assassin’s palm. Its wings snapped out and their drop slowed, and they hit the ground without crashing.

  She went crazy. She twisted, jerked, kicked. If the Kantos dragged her away, she was as good as dead.

  They fell and hit the grass. Where the hell was everyone?

  She kicked again, catching something with the heel of her shoe, and the wings loosened. Finley broke free, leaped up, and ran.

  Behind her, she heard a screech and a flap of wings. She looked back over her shoulder.

  Dread filled her like concrete.

  The Kantos was in the air, a few feet off the ground, wings spread. It looked like a demon from Hell.

  Her heart lodged firmly in her throat.

  The Kantos shot downward.

  Finley dove and rolled across the grass.

  The assassin landed and advanced.

  She tried to scramble away. It swung its claws toward her.

  A piercing pain in her shoulder. She screamed. It was as though burning knives had sliced into her.

  The beast had rammed its claws through her skin and muscle. Shit, shit, shit. She suddenly realized that it was worse than that—the alien’s claws had gone through her shoulder, into the grass and dirt below, pinning her there.

  The assassin opened its mouth, and that ugly protuberance extended.

  So gross. She turned her head and tried to move, but the pain from the claws embedded in her almost made her black out.

  Then, a deep roar filled the air.

  Sabin crashed into the Kantos, tackling it off her.

  The claws pulled free and she swallowed a scream, pain sending black spots dancing in front of her eyes.

  Her heart was pounding like a drum, and she slapped a hand over her bleeding shoulder. She managed to struggle into a sitting position.

  Sabin once again wore his black-scale armor, and had a long sword on one arm.

  He and the Kantos rolled, then Sabin rose on one knee. His sword raked across the Kantos’ chest.

  With a deafening screech, the alien rushed at Sabin, claws slashing.

  The pair moved so fast that they were a blur of sword and claws.

  The pounding sound of running footsteps caught her ears. The other two warriors, also in scale armor, appeared, their swords lifted. They watched Sabin and the Kantos like hawks.

  One glanced at her. “Are you all right, Dr. Delgado?”

  “Yes. Just help Sabin.”

  The Kantos assassin took to the air, hovering.

  Sabin rose, bent his knees, and leaped into the air incredibly high. He lifted his sword above his head and brought it down.

  The Kantos dodged, but the sword clipped its wing.

  With a wild screech, it crashed to the ground.

  All of a sudden, with a wild growl, a dog-sized creature flew out of the bushes. Its back was covered in spikes. It aimed right at Sabin.

  Oh God, another Kantos bug. It leaped onto Sabin’s back.

  The assassin spun and ran.

  “Don’t let it escape,” Sabin roared.

  T
he two warriors spun and chased after the assassin.

  Sabin whirled, trying to get the bug off his back.

  She had to help him.

  Ignoring the blood oozing from her shoulder, she looked around. She grabbed a stick off the grass, and leaped forward.

  Finley swung it and whacked the bug’s head. She swung again, hitting its quivering antennae.

  The bug released Sabin, landed on the grass, and spun to face Finley.

  Uh-oh. The spikes along its back quivered, its mandibles opening and closing menacingly.

  She backed up, gripping the stick hard.

  Then a sword slashed down, cutting the bug’s head clean off its body. Green blood sprayed on the grass and sizzled where it landed.

  Oh, God.

  Finley’s legs collapsed, and she hit the ground on her butt.

  “Finley.”

  Sabin dropped down beside her and wrapped his arms around her. He was big, strong, solid. And he’d just saved her…again.

  She burrowed into his chest and held on tight, burying her face in his neck.

  “Cren. Finley.” She felt his chest shudder.

  She stared at his shoulder, and the scratches through his armor, revealing his skin. “You’re hurt.”

  “It’s already healing. My helian will slow the blood loss and increase cellular repair.”

  Wow. That must be nice. She could do with some of that, right now.

  He pulled back, a fierce look in his eyes. “You’re hurt, too.”

  Despite the look on his face, his hands were gentle. He touched her shoulder wound.

  She winced, dizziness crowding her head. “Um, Sabin?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m pretty sure I’m about to pass out.” Her vision swirled, and then everything went black.

  Chapter Six

  An unfamiliar sensation sat low in Sabin’s chest. He held Finley tighter, and realized that the slick, oily sensation was fear.

  The urge to kill the Kantos again, to pummel it into oblivion rose up. It took all his control to wrestle the need into submission.

  Finley needed him.

  He saw the ugly wound on her shoulder, smelled the iron-rich scent of her blood. Her eyelashes fluttered as she regained consciousness. Thank the warriors. Her heartbeat was strong.

  “You’re okay. You’re safe.”

  She licked her lips. “It wasn’t just a bad dream?” She eyed the dead bug and grimaced.

  “I am afraid not. Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

  Space Corps Security swarmed around them, a containment team sliding the bug into a bag. Another man started to burn the grassy area with a flamethrower.

  Rade and Gadon reappeared, Rade dragging the dead assassin behind him. Both warriors were splattered with Kantos blood and gore.

  Finley whimpered, and Sabin rose with her in his arms. She held on tight.

  “Security Commander, the paramedics are on the way.” Captain Rodriguez eyed Finley’s injury. “She might need the hospital, and surgery.”

  “No, I can care for her. My havv will heal her faster and better.”

  Rodriguez looked like she wanted to argue.

  “Sabin, we need to discuss this.” Admiral Barber strode forward, her hands clasped behind her back. “We need to make a plan to ensure Dr. Delgado’s safety, and still get the StarStorm completed.”

  Sabin nodded. “Later. When she’s recovered and had a chance to rest.”

  He strode across the grass to the research building. Moments later, he set her down on the couch in her quarters.

  “How are you doing?” Her face was still white.

  “It hurts.” Lines of pain bracketed her mouth.

  Sabin sat down beside her and started to undo the buttons of her shirt. She grabbed his hands.

  “Let me take care of you,” he murmured.

  He felt a driving need to look after her. To heal her, comfort her. He couldn’t seem to keep his distance from this woman. How had she turned his life upside down so quickly?

  She swallowed. “Wouldn’t you prefer to be with Whitney?”

  He frowned. “Who?”

  Finley made an annoyed sound. “The woman you were flirting with at lunch.”

  “Oh, Whitney.” He stilled. Finley was jealous. A part of him liked that.

  He spread her shirt open, then commanded his helian to form a small knife.

  Finley gasped. He cut her shirt off, leaving her in a froth of pale-green lace. It cupped her generous breasts.

  “I like the pretty things you wear under your sensible clothes.”

  “I’m…I’m not considered beautiful here. Whitney is. Slim, perfect features…”

  He touched Finley’s shoulder. “I like strength with some softness. I like my bed partners not to be tiny like children.”

  “Oh.”

  As he studied the wound, his jaw tightened. “I promised that I wouldn’t let the Kantos hurt you again.”

  “I’m okay, Sabin. I’m alive thanks to you.”

  He took out some havv and squeezed the liquid onto her wound. She bit her lip. “It burns.”

  “The more significant the wound, the more it hurts.” He held her hand and tangled their fingers together.

  Seeing that assassin on her…

  Sabin fought back a rush of feelings.

  Finley cocked her head. “I can feel your mood.”

  “My helian amplifies my emotions.”

  “What are you feeling?”

  “Guilt, residual fear.”

  Her lips parted.

  “Relief.” He stroked her fingers, her palm. “Desire.”

  “Sabin.” Her voice was breathy.

  “You need to eat or drink something. Healing requires energy.” He rose. She was hurt, and he needed to take care of her, not think about getting her naked.

  “I have some protein packets in the cupboard,” she said. “You just mix them with milk.” She leaned back on the pillows on the couch. “I have them when I don’t want to cook.” She sent him a small smile. “Which is a lot.”

  He found the packets and mixed one in a glass with the liquid labeled milk. He sniffed the milk. “What is this?”

  “It comes from an animal called a cow.”

  He stilled. “A real, live animal?”

  “Yes.”

  He shuddered and brought the drink back to her. She sipped it.

  “All of it.” He pushed the glass back to her mouth.

  “I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time, Sabin.”

  “Not today.” He set the empty glass down on the coffee table. “I’m sorry the assassin got to you. I should have—”

  Finley pressed a hand to his chest. “You saved me. I knew you’d come. I’m glad Whitney didn’t keep you distracted for too long.”

  “I’m not interested in Whitney. I’m sure she’s very nice, just very…forward. And she wears too much scent.”

  He stroked Finley’s arm and could already see that her wound was slowly healing. He stroked the unmarked skin beside it, and she shivered.

  “I prefer the subtle scent of spicy sweetness. And smooth, golden skin.”

  Finley bit her lip. “I’m not sure this is keeping things professional.”

  “It’s not, but I can’t seem to remain professional around you, Finley.”

  She sucked in a breath. “Really?”

  “Really.” He needed to touch her. Needed the feel of her skin as reassurance that she was all right. “I can’t seem to stop how I feel.”

  He ran his hand down her arm, soaking in the feel of her. Her skin was so smooth. He lifted her hand, and pressed his lips to her wrist, then her elbow.

  She pulled in a sharp breath.

  He let his other hand brush her collarbone and he scented her arousal.

  “I never imagined Eon warriors would be so…sensual,” she said.

  “We’re men as well as warriors, but I am a special case.”

  “Oh?”

  Sabin he
sitated. “I have extra-enhanced senses.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. I feel more, smell more.” He couldn’t control the edge in his voice.

  Her mouth opened. “It causes you problems?”

  “It can. That’s why I maintain rigid control.” Sabin allowed himself to indulge his senses a little, but he wouldn’t risk hurting her. It was a dangerous line to walk.

  He checked her wound again. “It’s knitting well.”

  “Good.”

  He lowered his mouth, kissed her healing marks.

  “Oh, God.” A soft expulsion of air.

  “We take things one day at a time, Finley,” he said. “For now, you rest and heal. Tomorrow, we’ll talk about further steps to keep you safe.” He tucked her hair behind her ear. “You’re my only priority.”

  Finley looked in the bathroom mirror the next morning. She was still in her pajama boxer shorts and a tank top. She pulled the top’s neckline down and prodded the site of her wound.

  It was gone. There was a faint pinkness to the newly healed skin, but that was it.

  Amazing.

  She swallowed. It was far too easy to think of the attack. The assassin hunting her. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths.

  She was safe. Sabin was literally one room away.

  Her belly clenched.

  How the hell was she supposed to focus on her work, when they were going to be glued together? How was she going to keep her hormones in check?

  And he’d admitted that he felt the same, but that he needed to stay in control.

  She could do this.

  She was a professional. She had to focus on the project.

  Setting her shoulders back, she dredged up some self-control. She was a smart, sensible woman.

  Spinning, she yanked open the door and ran into a very hard, very bare chest.

  Finley’s mouth went dry. She blinked rapidly.

  Sabin stood before her, clad only in black shorts, his wide chest covered in bronze skin.

  She swallowed. Wow. Carved muscles. Hard pecs. Ridges and dips down his abs. Desire pulsed between her legs.

  “Good morning.” His voice still held the deep, growly edge of sleep.

  “Hi.” God, her voice was a squeak. “Did you sleep well?”

  He nodded, but she couldn’t drag her gaze off his chest. Her pulse was doing a crazy dance.

 

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