by Alison Aimes
The weight of her choice threatened to send her to her knees.
“Ava?”
She’d been quiet far too long.
“Keep this with you.” Something narrow and hard pressed into her palm.
She looked down.
A handmade dagger lay in her hand. The same one she’d first noticed hanging from his harness in the transport hold, made of her precious ore. Carved deep into the side were the words Ava Davies.
Her heart skipped.
He’d made this for her.
“It’s lighter and more versatile than an ax—and every warrior needs their own weapon. Plus…if something goes wrong out there for Ryker and me, I know it’s not much, but it can be melted down to help make more serum.” Grim determination tightened his features. “In the meantime, if you have to use it as a weapon, make sure you strike to kill and that you’ve got an exit strategy. Stay alive and I’ll find you.” His blue eyes heated, his voice dipping to that low, familiar rasp that rolled across her skin. “There’s no place I won’t find you. Nothing I won’t do to keep you.”
Familiar words. They’d once sounded so ominous. But now…now they sounded like love.
She clutched her weapon tighter. It fit in her hand to perfection. “Thank you.”
His hand wrapped around hers. Gently. Carefully.
Her heart fluttered anew. He was always so careful with her.
“Thank you for reminding me there’s beauty and strength everywhere.” His thumb tracked across her sensitive skin. “Even down here. Even, maybe, within myself.”
“Definitely within you.”
They stared at each other, the weight of everything they’d been through, everything between them still, thick in the air.
“I know…I know it’s not settled between us, but…” her words trailed off. How to say all she felt? How to describe how torn she was without hurting him worse than she had?
“I know.” Shadows darkened his gaze, as if he already knew how her sentence would end. Which was odd. Since she didn’t know herself.
He took a step back. “We’ll finish it when I return.”
“Be safe.” She willed her hands to remain at her sides, his gift clutched tightly in her hand.
“You, too.” His gaze flickered to where Pratt lay curled against the wall. “Don’t drop your guard.”
“I never have.” Her gaze locked with his, tension buzzing between them, the words heavy with unintended meaning.
His lips flat-lined. “You could with me.”
Before she could formulate a response, he turned away, every mouthwatering muscle rippling as he stalked to where Ryker waited—and all she wanted was to call him back. To hold him one more time. To tell him she already had dropped her guard. That her heart was his.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she clamped her mouth shut, slid his precious gift into the pocket that had once held pills she didn’t even miss, and watched him walk away.
39
“You ready for us, Doc?” Griffin’s voice shook her from her musings.
“Doc?” She raised an eyebrow. Beyond the cursory CPR and emergency training given to all Academy mission participants she had no medical training whatsoever.
She could have sworn the man blushed, his bandage moving up and down as he shrugged. “You’re sticking needles in us, aren’t you? And Slayer just seemed wrong for this.”
She hid a smile. “Good point. But I’m no doctor. I’m a geo-chemist. I study plant- and ore-based medicines and technologies. I have absolutely no idea about saving people.” Even myself.
His handsome features smoothed into a charming grin she suspected had once been the man’s go-to expression. “I disagree.” His eyes darkened. “Before you came along the Commander had started to go kind of numb. Now, he even smiles every once in a while. So, you already saved his ass. And now you’ll save ours. I’d say that counts for something.”
“I’d say it does, too.” The edges of her mouth tugged upward.
Until she caught a glimpse of Pratt out of the corner of her eye.
Crouched in the corner, his eyes darting from side to side, her ex-guard was clearly terrified. Broken. And so alone.
“You think he’ll make it?” Griffin’s soft words were heavy with doubt.
Pratt curled deeper into the rock wall, his lips moving as his nails raked across his skin and his gaze darted to Darvish, the guard stationed nearby, and then back to the ground.
It was painful to witness.
But there was nothing she could do for him now. She’d promised Valdus. Both sides would simply have to grow more comfortable with each other and that would take time.
Time to come to trust. Time to see each other for who they really were.
Like what had happened between her and Valdus. Like what was happening between her and so many of Valdus’s men.
Was she really thinking to risk all that for a serum that might not even work?
“Yes. He’ll make it. Just like the rest of us.” Sucking down a deep breath, she shoved aside her own concerns and stood taller. “Let’s get started saving ourselves. Line up.” Her gaze found Griffin’s. “The doc is in session.”
“We’re coming to the last of it.”
“Already?” Flexing her aching hand, she ignored the protest of the few men left and turned to Griffin, her eager assistant. “You sure?”
“Absolutely.”
She stifled a curse. They’d been making such good time. She’d hoped to have even more done by the time Valdus returned. Still, the majority were now safe against the tracker, the handful left would be soon enough.
As for herself? It didn’t make sense to use the serum to knock out the tracker without trying to neutralize the heat technology, since ingesting the serum twice increased the potential for complications a hundredfold.
If she did this, she’d get one shot.
I may not have the heat in my veins, but the drive to touch you, be with you, is raw and unbreakable and can’t be cured with some serum. I need you to live.
And, damn it, she wasn’t ready to make that choice yet.
“Okay. I’ll finish up with what we have.” She turned back to her latest victim—er, patient—needle raised. “You should let Darvish and Bain know.”
They’d come up with a good system. Bain kept the injectors coming while Griffin helped her with the shots and then the others transported the patient to another area where they were given water and told to rest. Efficient and quick, it had kept the entire operation running quickly.
“Will do.” A water skin appeared in front of her nose. “You should drink first.”
She waved it away. “After.”
The skin reappeared. “Valdus was very clear on that point.” Griffin’s usually affable voice was hard.
She stifled a sigh. Grabbed the water skin. Gulped noisily—and realized just how good it felt. She’d been thirsty.
Even now, from afar, the man sought to take care of her.
Could she truly risk giving all that up?
Still drinking, she turned and caught Pratt out of the corner of her eye.
Her colleague was back at his cowering spot, still talking to no one, his eyes locked on the dirt at his feet. She’d hoped for a little more progress. While she’d been working, he’d crawled out a few times and, with Darvish as his shadow, slunk his way to the water skins, but he’d always returned quickly to his safe spot. Still jumping at every little noise.
Of course, she knew better than anyone that time and patience were required.
And kindness.
Even Darvish looked like he was beginning to pity the guy. His laser-like focus slacking, his shoulders easing, his gaze flickering to Barrett—who hadn’t looked his way once.
She sighed. Handed over her half-empty water skin to Griffin. “Thanks. I’ll drink more soon.” She flexed her hands once more. “First, I want to finish up.”
A loud crash sounded behind her.
She swiveled round,
her eyes registering a big body on the ground before her mind made sense of it. “Darvish!”
Barrett was already crowded over the downed man.
“Hold up.” A firm hand landed on her forearm. Checked her in place.
Suspicion lined Griffin’s face. “Stay here. I don’t…” he shook his head. Blinked hard. “I don’t want you over there until…until we have a better sense of…” He listed to the side, nearly pulling her down with him.
He dropped to his knees. The water skins falling to the ground.
“Griffin!” Struggling to stay upright, she did her best to guide him gently toward the hard floor, her gaze scanning him for any kind of obvious injury.
Another bang sounded behind her.
She whirled to find Bain, who’d obviously been trying to reach her, face down, too.
What in Dragath’s name was happening? Was it the serum?
Panic rising, she dropped to her knees beside Griffin. Touched two fingers to his neck. Relief slammed through her. His pulse fluttered strong and true.
She whirled around. Others were dropping, too. Man after man.
“What in the hell is going on?” Her shout echoed off the rocks. Was her serum hurting them all?
“They’re alright. Just…just knocked out.” The voice was close by. Pratt.
She whirled round—or tried to. Her body suddenly sluggish. Her mind, too. But she was lucid enough to remember she hadn’t taken the serum.
She dropped to her ass, her body too difficult to hold up. “What…What did you do?”
Her colleague’s beady eyes darted left, then right, as he skittered around the downed bodies, careful not to get too close. “It had to be done. Had to be.”
“What did you do?” She meant it as a scream. It came out a forced whisper. “Are they dead?”
“No,” he loomed above, his face pale, his expression eerily empty. “Just out. From the water. Master gave me something to put in it to make them sleep.”
She struggled to sit upright, but her elbow gave out, sending her flat into the dirt. “How could you? They tried to help you. Save you.”
She’d brought him here. When Valdus clearly didn’t want to have him. She’d endangered everything the man she loved cared for.
Pratt’s expression never changed. “No one can save you down here.”
“That’s not…” she shook her head, fighting to keep the darkness at bay. Valdus had saved her. Protected her. And she’d saved him. They’d found something beautiful and extraordinary down here. Something she never wanted to lose.
She opened her mouth to explain to Pratt.
“Take this.” Her ex-colleague shoved his palm in front of her face, a handful of crumbled purple substance within.
“No.” She wrenched her head back—and fought a dizzying groan.
“Take it.” The palm flew forward again. “You haven’t drunk enough to knock you out.”
“And I’m not going to.” Batting his hand away or trying to—it was hard when seeing double—she fought to pull herself backward. To reach for the dagger in her pocket.
Two frowning shapes that vaguely resembled Pratt surged forward. “Take it.” His voice was a screech of pure panic.
Goose bumps rose on her skin. “No.”
The blur of an arm caught the corner of her eye.
Pain rocketed across her temple and down her spine.
Everything went dark.
40
“We’ve almost got enough.” Valdus slammed his ax into the hard rock, the reverberating kickback up his arm welcome.
He needed something to keep him grounded. To distract from the tight fist around his chest that had seized hold the moment he left quarters.
He’d had to go. They both needed time to think, to cool off.
But he hated leaving her.
With a growl, he raised his ax once more, hoping the sabanthers would stay away a little while longer.
“You trying to bring down the whole wall?” Ryker was busy hacking away a few arm lengths down. “I could have sworn the woman said just the ore.”
“Funny guy.” Valdus didn’t even look his way. “Maybe less watching and critiquing my work and more focus on your own?”
The sooner they were done the faster they could return.
And not just because he wanted to clear the air between them.
He didn’t like leaving her with an unknown like Pratt.
“You can’t save everyone, you know?”
His ax tip missed his target, sending him stumbling forward. He shot Ryker a furious glare. “What in hell’s name are you talking about?”
His second just kept hacking away, his gaze focused on the rocky wall. “This thing with Hollisworth is coming to a head. You can’t save us all. You can’t do it all.”
“I don’t need to hear this right now.” Per usual, his second had no clue what was actually bothering him. He hoisted his ax again. Slammed it forward.
“Now is exactly when you need to hear it.” Ryker’s ax stilled. “You’ve done an amazing job of keeping us alive these past two years. Alive and as close to human as possible.” He shook his head. “But your will alone won’t get us out of this mess.”
“So, what do you want me to do?” His second’s words pressed down on him, more weight atop what already felt like a staggering burden. “Because I’ve got news for you. Sarcasm and asshole comments aren’t going to save the day.”
“And yet you’re coming to embrace them quite nicely. I credit myself.”
“Fuck off.”
Silence descended, stretching so long Valdus wasn’t sure his second even remembered what they’d been talking about.
“I don’t blame you for what happened to Saralynee and my son.”
Valdus’s ax stilled. This was something they never talked about. He’d tried a few times, but Ryker had always brushed him off. He swallowed hard. “If I hadn’t joined up—”
“I would have done something else to fuck it up.” His one-time friend turned to face him. “That life…husband, dad, I knew even then it wouldn’t last.”
“That’s bullshit. You deserved every heartbeat of that life. Of that happiness.”
Ryker’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “You know Saralynee liked you first?”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Nope. She admitted it one time during a fight. She had the hots for you. Why do you think she hung out so much around our barracks? Wanted the great Hunter Valdus with his dreams of a better world to notice her. Thought for sure you were a better prospect. But when you didn’t give her the time of day, she looked elsewhere.” He turned the ax handle in his hands as if that could somehow rewind history. “And I guess I convinced her over time that I could be a solid prospect, too. A good provider. Protector. Husband and father. Almost convinced myself…until I got her killed.”
Valdus’s chest went tight. “That wasn’t your fault. I—”
“Enough. I’ve been riding your coattails for a long time. Letting you take the risk—and the blame.” Turning back to the wall, his second hefted his ax and sent it crashing into the wall once more. “Come to grips with the fact that you can’t save us all. That others have to take some risks.”
“Every one of us plays with fire every rotation.”
“But none like you.” Ryker gestured toward the massive pile of ore at his feet. “You’ve always taken the most hazardous assignments. Carried the heaviest load. But you can’t keep doing that. You need to trust the team to come through—and most importantly—accept that we’ll have to live with the consequences of those choices.” Ryker’s ax crashed harder against the rocky wall, his words echoing those of a certain woman. “Barrett is dying. Accept it. Beneath that bullshit charm, Griffin is tottering on the edge. You can’t stop him from going over if he won’t be saved.”
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience?”
Bleak eyes met his. “You’ve been trying to save me from the start. Stop.”
The unvarnished words stabbed straight through Valdus’s chest. “That’s—”
“The only damn way you’re going to save some of us,” finished Ryker. “You saw what happened during that last confrontation with Hollisworth. It’s only going to get rougher next round. You can’t save us all—and if you can’t,” he looked away, “choose her.”
“What?”
“We all understand. We’d all do the same.” His friend’s eyes were bleak with past memories and pain. “If I had the chance to save Saralynee and my son, I’d do whatever it took.”
“This is bullshit.” Scooping up the ore from his pile, unable to stand still any longer, Valdus shoved their gains into the strip of fabric they’d made into a makeshift knapsack. “We’re so close. I can make this work. I can—”
“Not this time. You keep pushing with Ava and you’re going to end up with nothing.”
He froze, his body vibrating with tension. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like. You can’t save everyone, not even her. Not if she’s intent on making a different choice.”
Was this what Ryker was working up to all along? Maybe not so oblivious, after all.
Valdus shook his head, his voice a low growl. “I’m keeping her safe. I won’t lose her.”
“Which is exactly how you will. Hold too tightly, don’t let her choose for herself, refuse to allow her to suffer the consequences of whatever it is she’s so game to do and you’re so clearly against—and you’ll lose her no matter what happens with Hollisworth.”
Valdus sank back on his haunches, the weight of Ryker’s words settling like a boulder on his chest.
Was his second right? He’d said the words to himself, but hearing them out loud somehow made them more real.
Was trying to save her only going to mean he’d lose her in the end?
Dragath hell. He was finally so close to safeguarding those he cared about, to being the leader he believed they needed, and yet he’d never been less sure of what to do next.
“Valdus! Ryker!” Griffin’s deep voice echoed down the chamber.
They were up and sprinting toward him in the next instance, weapons out and raised high.
