by Nina Croft
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Acknowledgments
About the Author
If you love erotica, one-click these hot Scorched releases… The Captain’s Rebel
Private Reserve
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The List
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 by Nina Croft. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
Entangled Publishing, LLC
2614 South Timberline Road
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Fort Collins, CO 80525
Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.
Scorched is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.
Edited by Brenda Chin
Cover design by Erin Dameron-Hill
Cover art from Period Images
ISBN 978-1-63375-920-6
Manufactured in the United States of America
First Edition April 2017
For anyone who ever fell in love with Han Solo…I hope you find a space pirate of your own.
Chapter One
Killian
What the fuck was I doing chasing across the goddamn universe after a girl I knew virtually nothing about?
I slouched in the pilot’s seat—a nearly empty bottle dangling from one hand—and glared at the little green dot on the screen.
The really bad feeling twisting my guts was getting worse.
I took a deep slug. The raw alcohol seared my throat and then settled with familiar warmth in my belly, melting the cold hard lump of…fear?
For many years, fear had been my constant companion, and I recognized the signs: the clenched muscles, racing heart, the icy sheen of sweat on my skin. An image of Ruby, as I’d last seen her, cut through the alcohol haze in my mind. So lost and alone, and so brave.
With fucking gorgeous tits.
It would be a goddamn shame for those tits to come to a bad end. I took another swig and turned to where Zak slumped in the co-pilot’s seat beside me. “We have to save Ruby’s tits,” I said.
“And the rest of her.” He tugged the bottle from my limp fingers. “You want to lay off this stuff.” His tone was disapproving.
“Why?” I made a snatch for it and missed. “You going to tell me it’s bad for me?”
“No, but that’s nearly the last bottle, and you’re drinking more than your share.” He took a long pull, wiping his mouth with the back of his blue hand.
I’d grown up hating the Groth—great big, ugly blue bastards, but Zak was my friend. My only friend actually. But the cool thing about Zak was, I was no more responsible for him than he was for me.
I returned my attention to the screen with its little green dot. “There’s our girl,” I said.
Ruby had a tracking device implanted in her brain, which was lucky for us because otherwise we would never have found her again. Equally luckily, the person who wanted her dead wasn’t aware of that, or at least he couldn’t lock in on the tracker. Otherwise, he would have known she wasn’t on board when he’d contacted us.
“Yeah.” He sighed. “You realize where they’re headed?”
“I could make a guess.” Actually, I had already guessed. That’s when I’d gotten out the bottle. “So how do you feel about going back to Groth?” I asked.
“Crappy.”
Me, too. “Will it help or hinder our chances of saving Ruby?”
“Well, there’s a huge price on your head and you’re hardly inconspicuous.” He waved a hand in the general direction of my metal arm and my metal eye. “And then there’s the fact that my sister really wants me dead.”
“Yeah. Total bitch. But on the positive side, you know your way around, and you must know a few people in high places who don’t want you dead.”
“Maybe,” he said cautiously. He didn’t sound convinced.
“And I know a few people in low places.” Who would probably be no help at all, but I felt I had to contribute something.
“Shit, I don’t want to go there.”
“Maybe they’re heading somewhere else,” I said with more hope than expectation.
“There is nowhere else in that quadrant.”
He was right. I stared at the green dot some more, trying to imagine how she was feeling, where she was. Was she all alone, cold, hungry? They would have quarantined her—we’d given her a pretty impressive rash to convince them to take her back and swap her for a new girl.
Why the fuck had I agreed? Oh yeah, because she’d blinked at me with those big blue eyes and said she needed to save the universe.
I remembered the feel of being deep inside her. I wanted that again. “Then it looks like you’re going home, big guy.”
“We’re going home.”
“Yeah.” Though I’d never really thought of it as a home. More like a prison. “And we need a plan.”
I didn’t want Ruby there for any longer than necessary. While I hadn’t known her for long, it had been long enough to be sure she’d make a crap slave. She might come across as all cute and sweet, but she hated being told what to do. That little character trait would get her in all sorts of trouble in no time at all. And I hated the thought of them marking her perfect skin. I’d have to hunt them down and kill them if they did, and that would reduce our chances of a clean getaway.
“Well,” Zak began, “we have no money to buy her.”
Hell, we didn’t even have money to buy a bottle of decent booze.
“And we certainly don’t have the fire power to take that slaver by force.”
No, much as I loved the Helldiver, she wasn’t much good at full-frontal attacks. Though she was great at running away; the fastest little ship in the known universe. I waited for Zak to go on. Many people took him for an idiot—hey, he was big and blue—but he had a sharp mind and the brain of a warrior, and he’d been trained in combat from before he could walk.
“I think we should slip around them and get there before they do,” he said. “They might remember the Helldiver, so it’s probably best to keep her out of sight.”
“So we go in there. Hide the Helldiver. Then grab her out of the slave pens.”
“Might be better to wait until she’s sold. The security at the slave pens is high. Likely to be less wherever she’s taken.”
It made sense, but I didn’t like it. I knew what it was like to be a slave, to have your life or death at the whim of some other person, usually an asshole because, hey, nice people did not own other people. I never wanted Ruby to experience that. Because it broke something inside you. Something that could never be fixed. You could ignore it, but it would always be there, that knowledge that you’re less than human. A thing.
“She’ll be fine, Kill. She’s a bright girl. She’s not going to do anything stupid.”
I wasn’t so sure. “She’s impulsive, and she hates being told what to do.”
“She’s also valuable. They won’t do anything to damage her permanently.”
“I don’t want her damaged at all.”
“She might even enjoy it.”
I cur
led my upper lip and snarled in his direction.
He grinned and licked his lips. “Hell, she enjoyed the two of us together. Who knows what new experiences she’s going to enjoy next.”
“She’d better not enjoy anything while I’m not around.”
“Jealous?”
Hell, yes. And I had no clue where it was coming from. But I’d felt possessive of Ruby from the moment I saw her, stark naked in that slaver’s cell, glaring at me. All the same, I ignored the comment. Back to business. “So we assume they are heading for Groth, we speed up, get there ahead of them, lay low, find out where the auction is held, then lay low some more. We go to the auction. Wait until she’s sold, follow them home, and snatch her back.” There was one little issue. “Do you think she’ll come without a fight?” She certainly hadn’t wanted to be rescued the first time.
“We’ll just have to persuade her it’s in her best interests.”
“That should be fun.”
Chapter Two
Ruby
I want to go home.
Some crappy savior of the universe I was.
Actually, I didn’t really want to go home. What I wanted was to be back on the Helldiver with Killian and Zak. All my life, I’d dreamed of exploring the vastness of space, and I’d been so close. And I couldn’t even blame anyone else. This had been my own stupid choice.
What the hell had I been thinking?
Maybe they weren’t even real. Perhaps I’d made them up—my fantasy space pirates. They couldn’t have been more perfect. Ergo, they were probably a figment of my overactive imagination.
My mind was finding it hard to focus, thoughts swirling around. They fed me occasionally, but nowhere near enough, and I was lightheaded from hunger. I wrapped my arms around my knees and hugged myself, trying to get some warmth into my icy cold body. I was still wearing Zak’s T-shirt and nothing else.
I had no clue how long it had been since Kill had brought me back. Days? Weeks? My cell was in total darkness except for the infrequent times the door cracked open and a little bit of light filtered in as they tossed in some food and water. Or the even more infrequent times they changed the bucket I used for a toilet.
I hardly noticed the smell anymore. That was sad.
But at least the plan was on track. All I had to do was endure. We’d get to where we were going, Rekowski, my mission controller, would find me and free me, together we would find Yolanda Pendleton, and we’d all go home.
Except—did I mention—I don’t want to go home.
I want Killian.
I had nothing else to do but go over and over the plan in my mind. That and reliving the short time I’d had with Killian and Zak. Killian was human, with a few metal replacements; Zak was a seven-foot blue alien. Both of them were gorgeous.
Killian thought of himself as a badass space pirate, but in fact he was a total sweetie. He hadn’t wanted to let me come back, but at the same time, he hated slavery and understood why I had to do this. Zak was straight out of one of the sci-fi romances I had devoured back on Earth. Together they rocked my world. And probably ruined me for a mere earthling.
The memory of their lovemaking had kept me going for a long time, but eventually even the memory faded, overwritten with the whole horribleness of my current situation. I was helpless and hungry and cold and smelly and…
I heard a scrape of metal on metal.
I sat bolt upright. Feeding time. Though my appetite was non-existent—I’m not even sure an extra cheese, meat feast pizza could tempt me right now—and the food noxious, I had to keep up what little strength I had.
The future of mankind rested on my shoulders.
Hah. Poor mankind.
I couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for them.
A sliver of light appeared. I waited for the food, but instead the door was pushed fully open and brightness flooded my small room. I blinked a couple of times, trying to get my eyes to work after the Stygian darkness. Finally, I made out the hulking mass of one of the guards standing in the doorway. God, they were ugly. Sludgy green and sort of bulbous, with a whole load of unexplained lumps and bumps under their khaki uniforms.
He jerked his head.
Did he want me to get up? Why?
My pulse rate jumped; my heart hammered. I wanted this over, but at the same time I’d grown used to my cell and had no idea what was out there. For a few seconds, I sat petrified in place. He did the head jerk again, a scowl forming on his lips. He could have just asked—but then I wasn’t supposed to understand any of the aliens. When Rekowski had implanted me with the translation software back on Earth, he’d made it very clear I was not to reveal that I could understand my captors. Because that would expose me as something other than an average Earth-girl.
Get a grip, wuss.
I did my best. Taking a deep breath, I pressed my palms flat on the floor and pushed myself up. Except nothing happened. My arms didn’t work. Whether it was general weakness or abject terror of the unknown, I didn’t know. A giggle escaped me.
Oh no, I was losing it big time.
Add hysteria to the list.
I collapsed back to the floor and just sat with a big, crazy grin on my face. The guard scowled, then clearly realized I wasn’t going anywhere under my own steam and stepped into the room. He studied me out of squinty eyes—probably trying to guess if I was still contagious. Not that I had ever been, but the spots had been pretty impressive. I was patently clean now—Zak had reckoned they’d clear up within days—and the guard grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet.
I wobbled precariously, and he heaved a huge sigh—I was obviously more trouble than I was worth—and tossed me over his shoulder. My head swam, the floor spun, spots danced before my eyes and finally everything went lovely and black.
I came to in a heap on the floor. I liked being unconscious better. Peering up through my lashes, so I wouldn’t alert them I was awake, I found myself the center of attention. One of them toed me with his boot, but I just curled into a tighter ball and ignored him as best I could. I was actually feeling more than a little weird.
“Maybe we should put it down.” He prodded me again. “No one’s going to pay for that.”
Well, that would hardly work with the plan. I couldn’t save the world if I was put down like an unwanted dog. Time to get that grip.
While I wasn’t supposed to understand them, they could understand me perfectly. Perhaps I should offer a little hint of what the problem was.
“I’m hungry.”
Silence for a moment, then one of them spoke. “Have we been feeding her?”
“I might have forgotten once or twice.”
“Crap. Go get her some goddamn food and water. Get that broth stuff the doc gives us when we’re sick. That should do it.”
I closed my eyes at the sound of departing feet, only opening them when a bowl of something warm, something that smelled vaguely like real food, was thrust toward me. A jug of water was placed next to it, and I heaved myself onto one elbow, pulled it toward me and somehow found the strength to pick it up and tip it into my mouth.
Some of the wooziness dissipated. I drank some more, then managed to push myself up so I was sitting. I ignored my surroundings for the moment—I had more important things to do. Picking up the bowl with both hands, I brought it to my face, careful not to spill a precious drop.
I almost swooned as the food filled my mouth, trickled down my throat, warmed the hollow place where my belly used to be. Hey, I’d managed to lose those last ten pounds diets had never shifted. Yay.
I concentrated on the food until the bowl was empty, drinking slowly, so I wouldn’t puke it all up again. Strength flowed through me. It might not taste of much, but it was obviously good stuff and was gone all too soon.
I glanced up, hopefully, and held out the bowl, feeling a little like Oliver. I couldn’t quite bring myself to ask for more.
“Thank you,” I said instead.
An expression—I was guessi
ng surprise—flashed across his face.
He took the bowl, pointed to the opposite side of the room. “Shower, then more.”
I gave him my best I-don’t-understand expression and irritation tightened his jaw. “Goddamn stupid closed-worlders. Shower.” He said it really slowly as though that would make a difference. But a shower sounded like a good idea, and I gave a quick nod.
I glanced down at myself. Stains dotted my pale blue T-shirt. God knows what those were, though I could make a few guesses. I’d thrown up more than once.
Now that I was actually conscious, and not in imminent danger of losing that status, I took stock of my surroundings. I was in the outer room that led to the large cell where all the slaves had been kept. But the cell door stood open and the women were gone.
I concentrated for a moment and realized we were no longer moving. It was hardly noticeable on this ship; it was so big, not like the Helldiver where you really felt like you were flying. But we’d definitely stopped. Had we reached our destination?
“SHOWER!”
This time when I went to rise, I made it to my feet easily and stood for a second while I got my balance. The shower was an open cubicle and I hesitated. When I’d been held here before, I’d been naked the whole time and gotten sort of used to it. Now I didn’t want to remove my one layer of protection and the only thing I had from my stay with Kill and Zak. A grunt from behind reminded me that I was on a schedule here. And I did want more food.
I slowly peeled the T-shirt over my head, balled it in my fist for a second, and then dropped it to the floor, biting back the little sob of dismay. It was like losing them all over again. I glanced down at myself and was slightly cheered by my super flat stomach; I could see my ribs and my perky breasts. They’d always seemed more pendulous than perky in the past. Every cloud and all that.
Another grunt. My guard was getting impatient. I peered his way and decided that maybe he wasn’t impatient. Maybe he liked what he saw.
No way.
He could keep his goddamn tentacles to himself.
I hoped.
I was quite aware that if he decided to have me, there was very little I could do about it.
