Solar Storm

by Mina Carter

  Cat-napping had its benefits. With Kelwin’s large body wrapped around hers—protective even in sleep—his even breathing had lulled her into a comfortable doze. No wonder he was deeply asleep—the man was insatiable. The first time had been fast and furious, but the second and third time he’d taken her with such tenderness that it had brought tears to her eyes.

  Her heart ached as it fought to be free of the iron bands she’d clamped around it. This is what her life could have been. Had she stayed all those years ago—not left with her father—she could have had this. Had Kelwin.

  Lying on her back, she looked up at the ceiling and went over everything she recalled about her ill-fated wedding day. It wasn’t a lot. She’d been so excited at the thought of being a bride—at the thought of being Kelwin’s bride—that she hadn’t been able to think of anything else. Unlike the other engagements her father had proposed, this one was different. She’d wanted to marry Kelwin…had ached for the day to arrive. So much so that she hadn’t looked much beyond the ceremony and the dress. Certainly not to the hard reality of a lifetime of marriage.

  During the reception, her father had been far too busy showing her off to his business associates for her to get more than a minute or two with the groom. Kelwin, for his part, had been glued to the bar for most of the night with her father’s operations manager, Lee Mallas, hanging from his every word. She had been naïve not to realize how much a man could drink until merry wedding guests had dumped him on the bed in their bridal suite.

  He hadn’t just been drunk—he’d been insensible. When she couldn’t wake him, she’d made him as comfortable as possible and curled up next to him in the delicate nightgown she’d brought to delight him on their wedding night.

  He’d never seen it. Her father had hammered on the door the next morning, holo-evidence of Kelwin’s infidelity with three Talorian lap-dancers the night before their wedding clutched in his hands. Which just added insult to the injury she’d already suffered to her pride when he’d hit on the ushers and her aunt. She’d left and hadn’t looked back.

  Wincing, she wriggled in the bed. Kelwin grunted and pulled her closer. The scent of sleep and warm man washed over her.

  It was a pity she hadn’t known then what she knew now. That her father was a self-serving mercenary shit only interested in one thing—the accumulation of wealth. And he didn’t care where that money came from. Marrying her off to a wealthy ex-soldier with a multi-million credit payout for services rendered must have seemed like a meal ticket.

  Until Kelwin had refused the “deal of the millennium” her father had offered him the day before the ceremony, saying he intended to stay retired and look after his new bride and any family that came along. She’d thought it was romantic, but kept her thoughts to herself when Kelwin had left and her father had exploded with rage. Her childhood had taught her one thing—no one interrupted Cordon McQuaid mid-rant, not unless they wanted to feel the back of his hand, and his fists a moment later. Even his wife and children were not exempt.

  Nor were they allowed an opinion on how he ran their lives. They were simply resources to be used. That had been made perfectly clear to her when—a week after her failed wedding—he’d told her to “be nice” to a rich investor he was wooing. One loud and vicious argument with her father later and she’d returned to her rooms, only to find said investor getting comfortable in her bed under the impression he had her father’s blessing.

  She’d thrown the perverted old bastard out—butt-naked—with the aid of the micro-knife she carried concealed on her person at all times. To the rest of the quadrant, she was the pampered princess, envied by all, but the reality was far different. She was McQuaid’s daughter through and through, so she’d made sure she could look after herself, knowing that sooner or later she’d need to.

  As soon as the door had closed on her “suitor’s” bare, wrinkly ass, she’d packed a bag and disappeared. She refused to be a pawn in anyone’s game, even her own father’s.

  Especially her father’s.

  Had both she and Kelwin been pawns that day? Soldiers were surgically and physiologically altered for combat. They were stronger, faster and had a higher metabolism than unaltered humans. When she looked back, it seemed unlikely he’d allow himself to get in such a state. He should have burnt the alcohol out of his system within hours, yet he’d still been unconscious when she left. And the incidents at the wedding…now she thought about it, that wasn’t Kelwin. It just didn’t fit with what she knew of his personality.

  When all the possibilities had been exhausted, that left just one option. Although she knew better than to trust her father, she’d ignored the truth when it was staring her in the face.

  He’d been drugged. And she’d just walked out and left him there…a defenseless man with gods alone knew what in his system. It had to have been something serious to keep him unconscious like that.

  Anger surged through her, hot and immediate as she bit back guilt. She shouldn’t have left him. Even with the holo-vid her father had shown her—regardless of what he’d done—she was intelligent. She should have smelled a rat.

  Chapter Six

  Ping…ping…ping…

  Kelwin snapped out of sleep as soon as the soft alarm started to chirp. He had no idea what it meant, but the very fact that it was soft and only sounding in the captain’s cabin told him that the problem wasn’t something like a taillight being out. No, it was more like a boarding alarm.

  He leaned over and shook Rhys’s shoulder lightly. “Up and at ’em, sweet stuff. We got visitors.”

  Sliding out of bed, he yanked his clothes on and strode across the room toward the large weapons locker. In pride of place, it filled most of the wall opposite.

  “Huh…” Her voice was delightfully sleep-filled and husky. Despite the adrenalin pumping through his system, Kel risked a glance over his shoulder as she rolled over and opened her eyes.

  She looked well-loved, her red hair tousled and her lips still slightly swollen from his kisses. A small patch of whisker-burn decorated the skin at the side of her full mouth. Male triumph surged through him. She looked like a woman who had been thoroughly bedded, but the dreamy look in her eyes didn’t stay there long. As soon as she registered the sound of the alarm, her eyes widened and cleared.

  “Shit. Intruder alarm.” Throwing the covers back, she leapt from the bed. Cutting the alarm with one hand, she reached out with the other to grab her clothes, then pulled them on with swift, efficient movements.

  Kel tried to open the weapons locker, but the latches wouldn’t move. Instead, the panel on the front lit up. “Crap. What’s the code?”

  “Four-seven-eight-one. Hurry it up—if the silent alarms have been tripped then they’re already on the bridge trying to hack the systems.”

  She appeared like a genie at his side, lacing the front of her leathers tight. Grunting in acknowledgment, he punched in the code she’d given him. The panel flashed twice, then the latches clicked open.

  “Who would board? Do you have any enemies?” His voice was crisp and clipped as he pulled the locker front down. He paused, a soft whistle on his lips. For a civilian cargo ship, she had enough high-end weaponry to kit out a couple of elite soldiers.

  “None who know where to find me.”

  The shrug she gave was dismissive. Kelwin spared a second to wonder what kind of enemies she could have gained before the answer hit him bang between the eyes. The way she looked, any guy she turned down would be a little disgruntled…and the people in her world tended to take that sort of rejection bad. A killing sort of bad. Pity for them—he was real good at that kind of bad.

  “Probably pirates. They’ve been causing problems on the remote roads recently.” Reaching around him, she plucked a high-yield assault rifle from the rack. She slammed a power charge in and activated the weapon with confident movements.

  He didn’t point out that they weren’t on one of the remote roads. Discretion was definitely the better part of valo
r when dealing with an armed woman. Instead, he picked up the other rifle and loaded it.

  “You’ve done this before.”

  Her direct look seared him to the bone. “I’ve been sailing for ten years. This isn’t the first time I’ve been boarded, and it no doubt won’t be the last. It will be the last time for this lot.”

  She added a pulse pistol to her arsenal—tucking it into the back of her pants—then grabbed a commando knife for her boot. So much fury and determination shone in her eyes that he almost felt sorry for the men stupid enough to board her vessel.

  Almost.

  His grip shifted on the rifle, his eyes narrowing dangerously. He’d dealt with enough pirates after the war. Just before the service let all the soldiers go into retirement, they tasked Kelwin and his brothers-in-arms to clear up the worst of the anarchy that raged in the space lanes. With the systematic and methodical application of brutal violence, they’d wiped most of the pirate gangs out and forced the others outside of inhabited space.

  “Here, kitty kitty kitty…”

  A coarse voice from above made them both freeze. The intruders were in the crew sections. Something clicked within Kelwin. He took a deep breath as the room expanded around him, his senses sharpening at the prospect of battle. Colors intensified to blinding proportions, the smallest creak of the ship around them an orchestra in his ears, and the smell of sleep and yesterday’s shower gel on Rhys’s skin called to him like a siren.

  Ignoring temptation, he looked around the room. Two exits. Good. Footsteps rang out above them. Without a pause, he bundled Rhys to the bedroom’s second exit.

  “Move, move, move,” he insisted, his keen ears tracking the progress of the footsteps down the stairs. “Where does this lead to?”

  She shot him a sharp look and yanked the door open. “Service corridor, down to the lower cargo decks.”

  “Good. Get down there. Stay down there until I come and get you. Shoot anything that moves.”

  She arched her eyebrow. “You move. So should I shoot you?”

  “Sassy wench.”

  Unwittingly, a smile crossed his lips. It didn’t last long—the surge of anger and adrenalin was too great for any amusement to last under its onslaught. Impatience shoved it aside. She had to get moving, not because of the pirate even now opening the other door to the bedroom, but because of him.

  He didn’t want her to see him in action. Didn’t want her to realize the level of cold-blooded violence and brutality he was capable of. If she did, if she saw him doing what he was best at, then she’d never look at him the same half-snarky, half-trusting way again.

  “Little kitty…” The pirate’s voice was nearer now. “Are you hiding under the bed? Come on, make it easier for old Bob here. Boss man says whoever finds you gets a little bit of sugar…”

  Rhys paled. Soldiers were always angry and generally pissed off with life, but now cold fury replaced the heat of anger in Kel’s veins. No one threatened his woman and lived. Ever.

  “Go. Now.”

  He didn’t need to say it twice. She turned tail and headed into the darkness beyond the single lamp by the door. Her footsteps, even to his enhanced hearing, were as light as a feather.

  Satisfied she was safely out of the way, Kelwin pushed the door ajar and stepped back behind it.

  “Hiding in the closet won’t save you, little kitty cat…” Bob’s voice sounded right by the door. The excited little hitch made bile rise in Kel’s throat, though a smirk twisted his lips. Obviously Bob thought he was about to get some action. He was—just not the sort he thought he was going to get.

  “…here’s old Bob to eat you all up—oooph.”

  Bob stepped into the service corridor and Kel swooped in like the angel of death. He slammed the door shut on the pirate’s trailing heel a second before the butt of his rifle connected heavily with Bob’s jaw. Bob’s head snapped around as though his face were trying to escape the brutal blow. The impact traveled up the poly-tricarbonite stock of the rifle to Kel’s hands. Blood splattered, decorated the wall by the door in an arc of crimson. Kel spared it a glance. Quite artistic.

  Bob staggered, slammed into the wall and spread the blood into a wide swath as he slid to his knees. Kel didn’t give him chance to get back up, instead kicking the scattergun from the pirate’s hands and sending it skittering into the darkness.

  “Wha—who the fuck are you?” The look of surprise on the man’s face would have been amusing under any other circumstances. Kel’s fury ate up the humor and spat out cold fire as Bob scrambled backwards across the bare deck-plating. “We were told there was just the girl on board. Not a—not…”

  His look of surprise turned to recognition and then fear as Kel looped a finger under his collar and pulled free a thin wire. A micro-garrote. A nasty little weapon for up close and personal wet-work.

  “Holy crap,” he whimpered. “You’re one of them, ain’t you?”

  Kel didn’t answer, his face set as he looped the thicker ends of the wire around his fingers. Bob moaned and tried to get away, flipping over to try and get up. For an older, bulky man, he was fast as hell.

  Kel was faster.

  He kicked Bob’s feet from under him, then planted a boot in the middle of the pirate’s back, slamming him into the floor and knocking all the air from his lungs in a whoosh. The acrid stink of urine rose in the confines of the corridor as Bob lost control of his bladder.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Have you no fucking pride?” Kel’s nose wrinkled in irritation as he looped the wire around his victim’s neck. He felt no remorse or guilt at what he was about to do. This piece of human scum and his kind terrorized the rest of society, looting and pillaging whatever ship they boarded. He was doing society a favor by ensuring the guy didn’t waste money in an expensive trial. Besides, he’d threatened Rhys.

  He leaned down so his ear was level with Bob’s.

  “Should’ve picked a different ship,” he said and pulled the wire tight with a savage jerk.

  There were four in total. Concealed in the shadows of the service walkways under the bridge, Kelwin watched the boarders with calculated interest. Four men between their mid-twenties and fifties. Two had obviously been picked for their size, but they weren’t in good shape—more fat than muscle. The last one, the guy in charge, was in excellent shape with the lean physique of a fighter.

  “What do you mean, you can’t find her? This frigging ship can’t sail itself, now can it? She’s got to be here somewhere.”

  Kel stayed still and listened. He was motionless, ignoring the bead of blood that slid down his cheek and dripped to the metal plate under his feet. It wasn’t his.

  Ship. Singular… Which meant they’d missed his flyer strapped to the hull in a sling. He suppressed a sigh of frustration. Time had been when pirates had been as worthy an opponent as a squad of Alkari warriors, not these idiots who couldn’t organize a fight out of a damn paper bag. They hadn’t realized yet that one of their number was missing or that there was someone aboard other than Rhys.

  As though his thought had filtered through, the leader lifted his head and looked around. “Where’s Bob? Fuck it. He’s probably found the bitch and is getting some quality time with her. The client is not going to be happy if she’s marked up. Go find him and bring them both back.”

  The client? Pirates didn’t talk about clients—they were just out for themselves, so “client” indicated that this was a planned hit rather than random violence and looting. Not pirates after all, but mercenaries. He ground his teeth together to keep still. They were after Rhys in particular. But who would go to such trouble for one small, stubborn woman? Sure, she was attractive…no, she was gorgeous. But to expend so much energy to capture her? Had to be a high roller for sure. Someone able to put his money where his mouth was when his dick just wouldn’t cut it.

  Kelwin rolled his neck until his shoulder cracked, his eyes tracking the two lackeys as they split up to look for the absent Bob. They wouldn’t find h
im. Most of him was stuffed in a reclamation unit while the rest was splattered over the service corridor and Kel’s clothing. He preferred to be covered in blood during a battle as long as it was someone else’s. It scared the shit out of whatever enemy he was facing.

  Ignoring the guy who headed down to the crew quarters, he focused on the one descending the ladder into the cargo hold. The cargo hold with access to the lower decks where he’d told Rhys to hide.

  He whispered a prayer to any gods who were listening that she’d followed his orders and stayed put. Silent as a mouse, he slid down the ladder nearby onto the walkway beneath the cargo hold and shadowed the pirate on silent feet.

  “Fucking Bob gets all the fucking luck,” the man above him muttered. “Trust him to find her. Real pretty bit of pussy too. Perhaps if I find ’em quick, I can get in on the action…”

  Oh, he’d get some action, all right. Kel silently scaled the ladder down to the same level as the disgruntled pirate. Without a sound, he unfolded himself from the ladder hatch and pulled his combat knife from its sheath in his boot.

  He didn’t get the chance to use it. Surprise and fear rolled through his system as—up ahead—Rhys stepped around the corner of a crate with a beguiling expression on her face and her leather top half unlaced to show her cleavage.

  “Hey, lover-boy…did I hear you say you were looking for some action?”

  Chapter Seven

  Fear hammered through Nerys’s veins, clamping in a tight band around her ribcage as she faced down the hulking brute of a pirate. Resolutely, she ignored Kelwin creeping up behind the guy and kept the sappy “happy to see a man” expression on her face.

  Kelwin wouldn’t let anything happen to her, but she'd be damned if she’d let him repel the pirates by himself. Never mind his glorious past as a war hero—bullets didn’t discriminate. He could be hurt, or worse. Her heart lurched at the thought.