"No! No! Ronan, no, please no!" She kissed him hard, again and again.
His strength was failing him. He collapsed. Erica ripped his shirt open. The T'shav stood over them, bloody sword still in hand, gazing down without pity. Ronan's hand brushed Erica's hair. He tried to tell her to run, to leave him, but his voice wouldn't work. He couldn't feel his heart beating.
Something pricked on his chest, and a burning pain made him groan. His vision cleared enough to see what Erica was doing. She had applied Bloodstore. Now she grabbed a fistful of Fleshseal and shoved it into his stab wound. Ronan's back arched and he screamed with pain. Erica straddled him to hold him in place and continued to work.
The T'shav that had stabbed him shook his head. He seized Erica around the waist and hoisted her away. She kicked and screamed. Ronan growled, pushing himself up—the pain overwhelmed him and he collapsed again.
"Well, this human should just about cover the costs that you owe Mr. Libber, right? Pity you'll be dead and won't be able to try to save her."
"Let me go!" Erica clawed at the T'shav's face.
"That wound is fatal, little human. No amount of Fleshseal will save him."
"No!" Erica's voice rang in his ears. "Ronan!"
Everything went black.
Chapter Thirteen: Erica
Erica glared at the Suesue taking a tissue sample from her. It was the fourth time in an hour. Her arms were covered in bruises and scabs. But if she didn't sit still and allow the alien to insert a large-caliber needle in her arm, retrieving a layer of adipose and muscle, she would be restrained. They would also refuse to give her a localized anesthetic. As awful as it was to watch the needle inserted into her arm, it was worse to actually feel it.
The human rested a hand on her large, pregnant belly. It had been months since the Planchet Corporation took her. Months since she last saw Ronan lying in a pool of his own blood. She didn't know if Tag and Bethy had escaped the Planchet attack alive. She didn't even know exactly how many months she had been in this stark prison.
The walls were glass, and she could see the scientists working outside. In her little prison was a bed and a water fountain. She was let out every couple of hours or so to use the bathroom, and other than that the only contact she had with anybody was when the samples were taken. Even the food was automatically delivered by a robot.
Lately, things had been a little different. Nobody would tell her what was happening, but from the probes that buzzed around her, taking pictures from every angle, she assumed she was going up for auction soon. Apparently, the Planchet Corporation decided that it wasn't cost-effective to keep her around as a lab rat or selling off her tissue samples, or whatever they were doing with her.
At least here she knew they weren't going to kill her or end her pregnancy. If they were, they would have done it already. Whoever bought her, though…
"There we are." The Suesue put the needle and sample into a sterile container and gestured for the assistant to start using the regenerator. "That's all for today."
Once they used the regenerator, they wouldn't take any more samples for at least twenty-four hours. Apparently, regenerators tainted the sample for a time. Erica didn't care about the science behind it, she was just glad to be able to have break.
Erica watched the regenerator pass over her arm. The holes made from the needles disappeared before her eyes, the old scabs healing as well. "Do I at least get to shower today? It's been two days—I stink."
The Suesue ignored her, turning to the assistants that were marking down what samples had been taken. They never talked to her. Probably to maintain a good professional buffer from acknowledging that she was a living, sentient person that had more than once begged them not to do what they were doing.
"Mr. Lirreb wants to inspect the specimen himself. Make sure it's clean and dressed presentably."
"Inspect?" Erica drew back from the Suesue, her heart jumping to her throat. "What does that mean? Inspect how?"
They ignored her questions, as per usual. Erica's heart pounded as they escorted her to the showers and gave her a pretty, flowered smock belted at the waist to wear. She considered the situation–she didn't know what Lirreb wanted with her, but he was the one that had ordered Ronan… killed. Would she have the chance to kill him?
Her hand rested on her stomach. No. She couldn't take that risk. She didn't know what her future held, but if she attacked the Planchet CEO, then she'd most likely dead by the end of the day. And her baby, too.
***
Saliva pooled at the corners of Lirreb's blubbery lips as he ate, all but ignoring Erica. Her hands were clenched under the table. The delicious-smelling foods that were spread over the table made her mouth water, but the toad-looking creature across from her stole her appetite with his mere presence.
"Are you planning on selling me?"
Lirreb patted his wide mouth dry and leered at her. "Are you referring to the images we have been capturing? You're being sent to market, Miss Chase. As soon as that is born." He pointed at her stomach. "T'shav babies are selling for high prices this year. People do so love to raise them for their own little armies."
Erica wrapped her arms around her stomach. "We'll be sold as slaves, then?"
"No. You will be sold as part of a breeding program. The T'shav you carry will be sold as a slave."
Erica's mouth went dry. Lirreb was planning on taking the last piece of Ronan away from her. She shook her head. Unacceptable. She could submit to all of the poking and prodding she had gone through. She could even accept being sold because there was a chance that she would find someone sympathetic to her, like she had Ronan. If not, there was always the possibility to try to escape, or somehow contact the Zon Sanctuary for rescue.
But if she was separated from her baby, there would be no meaning to life anymore.
"No. I won't let you."
Lirreb folded his hands on the table. "You don't have a choice in the matter."
"I have medical skills. You only took me to pay off the debt that Ronan incurred. I can work it off. Please. Please don't take my baby from me."
"I didn't bring you here to listen to you begging, Miss Chase. I only thought that it was about time you know what was happening."
There was a knife halfway between them. Could she get to it before he did?
"I was not part of Ronan's schemes." She hated saying that as though it was his fault, but what choice did she have? Ronan was gone. Protecting their child, preserving that piece of him, was the most important thing right now. "I didn't want him to buy me, but he did. But I had no part in his botched mission and you already killed him. Isn't that enough for you?" Erica slammed her fist on the table. "Isn't it?"
Lirreb's arrogant smile didn't change. "No."
Erica lunged for the knife. Lirreb snatched it up and clucked his tongue at her, shaking his head.
"Killing Ronan was personal. Not only did he not do as I wanted, but he disrespected me. Made a thinly veiled threat to kill me, even. But that’s all it was. Personal. I would have killed you, too, but my business head brought me around. I have investors to think about. I've already lost money, feeding and sheltering you while you come to term rather than just terminating your pregnancy."
Erica snorted. "Yeah, I'm sure all the tissue samples you've taken from me are worthless."
"You should count yourself lucky that the market for T'shav babies has picked up in recent years, otherwise I would have already ended your pregnancy. But I lost money on the baby, and I need it back somehow. Selling it will cover the cost of keeping you in my care."
"I won't let you take my baby."
Lirreb stood. "As I said, you don't have a choice. Guard, come take Miss Chase back to her cell."
Erica jumped to her feet, looking around desperately for something to fight with. She couldn't let them take her baby from her! Lirreb sighed dramatically as she picked up the chair and turned to face him. Suddenly, she saw a T'shav enter the room.
Only i
t wasn't just any T'shav. It was a ghost.
The chair clattered to the floor. Ronan stood in the doorway, looking as glorious as he ever had, all muscle and sinew. He twirled a broadsword as he advanced on Lirreb. The toad stumbled back, eyes wide, mouth hanging open. Erica couldn’t breathe. She couldn't believe her eyes. This had to be some sort of sick joke… or wasn’t it?
"You're dead!" Lirreb shouted.
"Your man didn't check to make sure." Ronan overturned the table that separated him from Lirreb. Erica backed away, gaping, still unable to believe her eyes. "I would never have been so sloppy. He assumed one blow would kill me and left me to die. But guess what? I was in a medical facility."
He drove his sword through Lirreb's chest. The toad's eyes bulged. He choked as Ronan withdrew the sword.
"If you had left my mate out of this, you would have lived. But you had to make it personal."
The sword swung. Erica turned her head away, but still heard the twin thumps of the body and severed head. Her heart hammered and she backed against the wall. This couldn't be real. It had been months—months! She had forced herself to accept Ronan's death. This had to be a dream. She couldn't let herself believe it. When she woke up and he was dead again, it would kill her.
Warm, strong hands cupped her face, making her look at him. "Erica. I'm sorry."
A tear ran down her face. He brushed it away with his thumb. A sob escaped and she threw her arms around him. "I don't care if this is a dream, I'm never letting you go again."
Ronan hugged her back, holding her so tightly she thought she might break–but she didn't care. "I'm so sorry."
Chapter Fourteen: Ronan
Ronan would have liked to just hold Erica. Unfortunately, they didn't have time. He pulled away, putting a hand to his chest as the muscles there pulled. Months of healing and he still hadn’t fully recovered. Erica's hand joined his over his heart.
"How are you alive?"
"The Bloodstore and Fleshseal you used were enough to keep me alive until Tag could get me to an infirmary."
"You were stabbed right through the heart. No regeneration could fix that."
"No. I needed a heart transplant. If I had been anywhere else in the universe I'd be dead, but with their hybridization techniques, they were able to use alien tissue as a base model to clone a new heart. It's never been done before."
Erica looked amazed. "A miracle."
"We have to go."
Gripping Erica's hand, he headed for the door, but a twinge in his chest had him leaning on his sword as if it were a cane. He tried not to let Erica see how much pain he was in. Not now when he just got her back. He couldn't let anybody come between him and his mate again.
"Healing isn't going as fast as normal. Apparently blending alien DNA together has its drawbacks." He tried to smile at his mate, but the worry in her eyes stopped him. He cupped her face again. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. I would have, but—"
"That doesn't matter. You're here now."
Ronan nodded. He grit his teeth against the pain and strode from Lirreb's rooms, holding Erica's hand tightly. Maybe Tag was right when she said he wasn't ready to take on the Planchet Corporation, but that didn't matter–they didn't have any time to spare.
A security force was charging up the corridor, armed to the teeth. Ronan grinned at them, pushing Erica out of harm's way. The front row of the security force dropped to their knees, raising their guns, but Ronan didn't give them the chance to fire. He leaped through the air, channeling the lingering pain into rage. The broadsword swung through the air, cleaving through three guards at once. Their limbs jerked and writhed as they fell.
A guard slammed the butt of his blaster into the back of Ronan's head, making him stumble. He recovered quickly, swinging around with a roar. His sword sliced through the blaster-resistant armor as though it were butter. With a quick stab, he skewered two guards on his sword. Releasing it, he swung around, using fists now. He dug his toe claws into the floor as a giant Dibat crashed into him. Ronan used the Dibat's momentum to flip him around and into his companions.
The T'shav followed it up with a kick to the throat. With a quick flick of his ankle, his claws tore through flesh. The Dibat stumbled back, both hands going to his throat. Ronan howled, retrieving his sword once more. He cut down another guard before a lucky blow landed right on the scar in his chest. Pain exploded, blinding him.
Coughing, Ronan backed up, swinging his sword in defense. The security force pressed his weakness, bringing their guns up again. He heard Erica scream and charged forward again, gasping for breath. He severed first one arm and then another, but he was still outnumbered by half a dozen and he couldn’t catch his breath.
The lights flickered out.
Ronan threw himself out of the fray, sagging against the wall to give himself a moment to recover. The security guards cried out and there were sounds of continued fighting. Ronan waited until they realized they were fighting each other before he leaped back into the fray, howling a challenge against them all. He felt flesh give way to metal as they fell before him.
A familiar voice shouted through the darkness. "Need some help?"
He felt Tag drop behind him. Together they made quick work of the security guards that were left.
"Here." Tag clapped him on either side of the head. There was a sharp pain in his temples, but his vision flickered back on, green-hued but very much there. "Night vision. It'll give us an edge for a while at least."
Ronan nodded his thanks to the female warrior and hurried back to Erica. Her eyes were wide as they peered into the darkness. He took her hand in his, panting for breath. It would take him a little longer to fully recover from his heart transplant. But he was going to make it out of this. He was going to get Erica out of here.
"It's okay," he told her. "Just hold onto me."
She nodded, clinging to his arm with one hand while the other rested atop her swollen stomach. He couldn't let himself spend time thinking about what a beautiful sight it was, to have Erica's body round with his child. He promised himself he would worship every inch of her later, when they were out of this life-or-death situation.
Ronan shook his head. They had to get out of here now, before more security showed up. He couldn't waste time thinking about what he would do in the future. He led Erica through the corridors, listening for any sounds around him that indicated enemies nearby. Twice he picked her up and tiptoed past an open door where a scientist or two were peering into the darkness, calling for help. Tag came silently behind them, her twin swords drawn. When they came to the stairs, they headed upwards.
"Bethy has the ship positioned at level with the roof. They'll be expecting us to get out the way we came in, which is downstairs," Ronan explained. "But Tag took care of the power so they can't see we have a ship upstairs waiting to fly us away."
The lights came back on. The night vision adjusted instantly, so there was no blinding glare of light, but Ronan tensed nonetheless. They were out of time. Erica blinked hard, her eyes watering. A look of horror came over her face.
"Until they turn the lights on again, you mean," she said.
Ronan picked her up and ran hard, taking the steps two at a time. His chest pulled, and by the time they were halfway up, a thin sheen of sweat covered his face. Without a word, Tag took Erica from his arms. They reached the roof just as the sounds of pursuit came up the stairwell after them. The ship was hovering right at the edge of the building, the gangplank extended to rest on the roof.
Tag ran towards the ship with Erica in her arms. Ronan followed close behind, shielding the two women with his body. Shouts followed them. A few blaster shots fired at them. Ronan answered with his own fire, and then they were there. He followed Tag into the ship even as Bethy raised the gangplank. Wind whipped around, throwing things off the wall, as they started away.
The gangplank closed and the wind stopped. Ronan groaned, letting himself fall to the floor. His chest was on fire and he felt like he was abou
t to pass out, but he still couldn’t help but laugh. They had done it.
Erica knelt beside him. Her cool hands pressed against his face. He smiled up at her beautiful face. Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she laughed as well. She kissed him, hard. Ronan wrapped his arms around her, bringing him closer. He didn't break the kiss until he couldn't breathe, and even then Erica kept peppering his face with smaller kisses.
"I love you," she gasped. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
She pulled back then, lips trembling. "You're alive. I thought you died."
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I should have come for you—"
A finger pressed to his lips silenced him. Erica shook her head, smiling again. "You did come for me. I don't care that it took a few months. You came for me. That's all that matters, Ronan. You came for me."
He smiled. "Always."
Erica wiped her face and nodded. "Bethy, pass me that regenerator. You're covered in cuts and bruises, and judging from the way you were gasping and clutching your chest back there, your heart needs a little help, too. A transplant! You're lucky you didn't give yourself an attack carrying me around. Why didn’t you let Tag carry me?"
"Sorry."
"Lie still."
Ronan obeyed, grinning like a fool as he watched Erica's brows pinch in concentration. If he had never bought her, he'd never be in this situation, with a strange heart in his chest and no real way of knowing if he would ever fully heal. But there was one thing for certain–if he were given the choice, he'd do all of it again.
"I love you," he told her again, and her work-focused expression melted once more.
"I love you. But the Planchet Corporation is going to follow us. What are we going to do?"
Ronan shook his head. "They won't follow us where we're going. Zon's fleet. I'm taking you home."
The Prince’s Virgin Page 59
