She reached for the knife Huw had given her and then remembered—per standard protocol, her weapons were locked down in the medica’s changing area. Well, hell, if she’d suspected there’d be more trouble, she would’ve ignored the rules and remained armed.
Iolyn was too far away. There was no one else in the immediate area, other than the volatile males heading her way. She began to assess her situation.
The surgery had only one exit, and it led into the medica, where she saw two men enter the waiting area. She was trapped. And even if she hadn’t been, she wouldn’t have run. Siri and her rescuer were unconscious and helpless.
The two men stood in the waiting area and watched her like the patient predators they were. Their fixed stares and ugly smiles chilled her skin and raised the hairs on her neck. They definitely weren’t here seeking medical care. If their expressions and the aura of danger around them hadn’t convinced her, the fact they weren’t bleeding and looked fit and strong would’ve. They were also armed to the teeth with knives, battle-blades, and laser weapons. Their clothing was a mixture of less-than-clean flight uniforms from several different freighter companies. The skin that wasn’t covered by hair was decorated in scars, tattoos, and piercings.
The only conclusion? The two were either mercenaries or pirates. It didn’t really matter which—they were bad news.
A pregnant silence settled like a lead blanket over the medica.
Bria struggled to handle her fear of the men and the flood of fight-or-flight hormones. Her heartbeat was so rapid she was sure she’d have internal bruises on her chest wall. If she didn’t get her breathing under control, she’d either hyperventilate or have a heart attack. Already, her vision dimmed as blackness edged in from the side and streaks of white and yellow dots floated across her visual field.
How in the hell did battle-mates deal with all the stress hormones?
Then she knew.
Bria dug deeply into her energy reserves and found the necessary strength to rein in her breathing. She heaved a silent sigh of relief as her senses once again tuned in to her surroundings.
During her slight panic attack, the two men had moved closer. Much too close.
Weapon. She needed a weapon. Anything sharp or lethal would do.
Without taking her eyes off the men, Bria backed away, slowly, until her bottom hit the surgical laser array she’d shoved against the wall. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead and back, sending chill bumps over her skin.
Sweat, she couldn’t control, but she could present a calm face to the enemy—and stall until Iolyn came for her.
One man—she’d call him Asshat—turned to the other—he’d be Rat Bastard—and muttered something she couldn’t quite hear. Rat Bastard retreated to cover the medica’s main entrance as Asshat moved to the surgery doorway where he stopped and glanced around the suddenly claustrophobic room.
Her throat tightened as her fear of being trapped in a small place won over reason and took control of her mind. A scream rose in her throat which she managed to cut off until all that came out was a strangled gasp.
Asshat smirked, and his dark eyes lit with an unholy gleam at the sound.
Show no fear—and breathe.
She forced herself to take one deep breath, then another as Asshat remained ominously silent and motionless except for his hawk-like gaze which quartered the room.
His stillness was scarier than if he’d spoken or lunged at her.
Bria practically vibrated with the need to do something, anything, to end the standoff.
Once again she was relegated to playing defense, to out-waiting her nemesis, letting him make the first move and hoping he’d make a fatal mistake to give her an advantage.
Asshat and Rat Bastard had already made one huge mistake—they’d given her an opportunity to succeed by dividing themselves.
The seconds ticked by in slow motion. Not that much time had passed since the men had appeared in the medica, but it seemed like forever.
Iolyn was coming. The knowledge was her lifeline. With any luck, he’d arrive before the men made their move—whatever in the hell it was.
Then Asshat grinned, showing unusually bright white teeth against his swarthy beard scruff. The predator knew he scared her. He got off on it.
Bastard! She’d had e-fucking-nough.
Empowering anger swept through her like the wind before a storm. She’d had her fill of big scary men intimidating her…finding her amusing. She didn’t need this…this crap. And she wasn’t going to wait to be saved. She’d save her own damn self.
Bria stared at Asshat while checking that Rat Bastard was still at the outer entrance. He was, and, oh lucky day, his back was to the surgery. Yet, he was still mere steps away.
Weakening doubt crept in once more. Two, large, heavily armed males could break her into little pieces without breaking a sweat. She shuddered as she heard bones breaking in her head.
Then she recalled Nadia’s words about drawing on her mate’s power. Maybe Iolyn didn’t have to be in the room to help her.
Bria dropped her mental shields and sought the psychic connection she’d visualized earlier and tugged it.
Brianna? You’re frightened. What’s wrong?
Instantly a surge of masculine power swept across the connection, adding his strength to her own. She was still angry and scared. But she wasn’t alone any longer.
Come to the medica. I need some backup.
I’m already on my way. What’s wrong? Open to me fully.
Bria dropped the partial shields she hadn’t even realized she’d kept up.
Iolyn swept in and took in the situation. His growl sent shivers down her spine and made her smile, which wiped the smile off Asshat’s face.
As you can see, I’m stalling. But not sure that will last much longer.
How many total?
Two. Heavily armed.
Keep stalling.
I’ll try.
Try harder. Her mental snort elicited another growl from her gemat. Stall, my cwen.
Bria shrugged and slammed up her shields. She didn’t need the distraction of Iolyn’s worries—or his bossiness.
She stared fiercely at Asshat. “What do you want?” She was proud her voice was calm and strong, showing none of her inner turmoil. Her gaze moved over the man and zeroed in first on his hands, then his expression and posture.
Asshat was relaxed at the moment, not threatened by her at all.
Good. Asshat’s guard and that of Rat Bastard would be down. They wouldn’t expect her—a woman and a doctor—to defend herself.
“You’re coming with us.” Asshat took a step into the small surgery.
The room seemed even smaller. The air became thicker, more suffocating.
Bria said—did—nothing in response to his provocative move.
“Did you hear me, woman?” Asshat took another step toward her and held out a large, dirty-looking hand. “Come. We’re leaving. I don’t want to hurt you. You’re worth more alive and undamaged.”
Playing dumb, Bria said, “I can’t leave. I have patients.” She gestured toward the regen beds.
Asshat’s gaze shifted toward the two patients. As his attention was diverted elsewhere, Bria reached behind her, feeling for the surgical laser. She grabbed it. Surgical lasers could do a lot of damage to a body, especially thin-skinned hominids like Asshat.
“Leave them. We need you to negotiate a deal for us.” The leader’s gaze was back on her as he moved closer.
Bria resisted the urge to retreat—and scream. She did fully drop her shields. Iolyn. Hurry.
Do. Not. Block. Me. Again.
Fine. Just hurry.
Iolyn’s response was a loud rumbling that reverberated in her head. A surge of masculine power once again boosted her own, and it was all she could do not to cry out at the intensity of the feeling.
Then Asshat charged her.
Bria brought her arm around. The surgical laser was on and set for cutting bone. She
swiped it across her attacker’s arm as he grabbed for her.
For a second, maybe two, there was a stunned silence in the surgery and then Asshat screamed. A cuttingly sharp shriek that rattled the glass cabinet doors.
“You bloody bitch.” He jumped back. She followed and swept the active, sizzling laser back and forth in front of her, herding him toward the outer room.
Rat Bastard rushed to stand outside the surgery door at his friend’s shout of pain. He blocked her and Asshat’s exit.
Okay, that wasn’t good. She’d lost the element of surprise. She still had the advantage that Asshat wanted her alive and undamaged, as he’d put it.
Time to stall again.
“Stay back.” She waggled the laser in front of her, singeing Asshat’s sleeve when he got too close. “I’ll kill you.”
“You’re a fucking healer.” Asshat had the audacity to look outraged by her actions.
Bria felt a twinge of guilt for maybe a nanosecond, but just as quickly got over the feeling. “And you’re mercenaries threatening me. So the Hippocratic Oath went out the door as soon as you entered. Now, leave before I slice off your penises.” She aimed the surgical laser and let loose several short bursts.
“Fuck.” Asshat jumped back as the beam set fire to his pants, right above his pubic bone.
Rat Bastard cringed and covered his cock in response. “Man, she’s serious.”
Of course, Asshat and Rat Bastard didn’t need to know she’d have a really hard time following through on her threats.
“Ain’t no fucking merc. We’re free-traders,” snarled Asshat, who remained just out of her and the laser scalpel’s reach. “Heard on the docks. The Alliance values you. We need you to get what we want from them. Sort of like bartering.”
“You’re pirates?” Not men hired to kidnap or kill her. A crime of opportunity and greed, rather than planned. Relief engulfed her at the news that no one had followed her to the jump station. Nevertheless…
Bria snorted. “Mercs. Pirates. Same difference. You’re still bad guys.”
The men bristled. Their emotions grew darker and more heated. Their patience was running out. She needed a weapon with longer reach.
She blasted another laser stream to draw their attention and force them to move back. She used the distraction to palm a scalpel from the cart behind her. The steel instrument felt good in her hand.
Her gemat’s shock at her bloodthirsty plan wisped along the surface of her thoughts. He was with her, monitoring the situation—and getting closer with every passing second.
“Fuck, bitch.” A dark flush of anger turned Asshat’s face beet red. “Ain’t never hurt a bargaining chip before, but…” He looked her up and down. An evil gleam entered his dark eyes. “…for you I might make an exception.”
Rat Bastard then upped the ante in the game of standoff and aimed a laser pistol at her upper chest and shot.
Bria dove to the side as he’d raised his weapon. The low stun tagged her upper arm. Gasping for breath at the shock to her nervous system, she managed to hang onto the surgical laser as she scrambled to regain her equilibrium. Acting totally on instinct now, she threw the scalpel at Rat Bastard and then sent a laser stream toward Asshat to keep him off-balance.
Rat Bastard dropped his laser weapon with a wounded screech, his hands clasped around the scalpel buried in his throat, just centimeters from his carotid artery.
Dammit, her aim had been thrown off by trying not to fall. Blessed One, she hadn’t wanted to kill him, just stop him from shooting her again.
Asshat stared from Rat Bastard to her, shock on his face. Then he roared and charged.
Heart in her throat and her gut churning, Bria stepped forward and kicked Asshat in the balls. Hard. The pirate fell to the floor. Then she kicked him in the diaphragm. The only sounds coming from him were harsh, labored wheezes.
Dropping the surgical laser, Bria sidestepped Asshat and approached Rat Bastard, who was choking on his own blood. He’d pulled out the scalpel—bad move—but, at least, the blood didn’t spurt from the wound. She’d missed the artery. He’d live with proper treatment.
Swearing under her breath, she stooped and picked up Rat Bastard’s laser, setting it to low stun, and slipped into her waistband. Then she kicked the bloody scalpel under a cabinet.
Grabbing some surgical gauze off a shelf, she knelt and applied pressure to the wound. The gauze was saturated in a mere second, so she tossed it to the side and applied another pad.
From his still-coiled position on the floor, Asshat shot at her. The laser stream flashed across her arm, the arm Rat Bastard had already tagged.
Bria hissed at the pain.
Brianna! Iolyn’s mental voice held fear.
She rolled over Rat Bastard, whose body blocked the doorway, and out into the medica waiting area. She took shelter on the other side of the door, out of Asshat’s view, fairly sure the bastard had set her on fire, but too busy to worry about it right this second.
Brianna! Answer me.
I’m fine. Sort of busy here.
She rubbed her sleeve against the wall to snuff out the fire. She hissed at the pain and smelled the pungent aroma of singed flesh and cloth. She looked at her arm and let out a breath. She had a second-level laser burn. It hurt like a bitch, but could be easily treated—later.
Later is unacceptable. You’re in pain. Warm, soothing energy came across their bond link and calmed the pain in her arm.
She’d find out how he’d done that later. Are you close?
The elevators are out. Fires were set in the stairwells.
How in the name of all that’s holy was he coming, then? She got an image of closed-in, dark, dirty spaces. Maintenance tubes. He was crawling in them to get to her. Better him than her.
Okay, he was on his way. But she still had a situation that wasn’t going to wait on help to arrive. Her empathic ability told her that Rat Bastard was near death. He needed help ASAP.
“Your friend will die if you don’t let me help him,” she called to Asshat. “Throw your weapon through the doorway, then come out with your hands in the air.”
“Fuck you, bitch,” he gasped out the words, the kicks to his balls and abdomen still affecting his breathing. She wished she’d kicked him harder. Maybe in the head.
Bria listened carefully for Asshat’s next move, because she knew he was stupid enough to make one. Asshat’s muttered curse words, the sounds of him dragging himself across the floor, and the noises from the regen beds were the only sounds in the room for the next few seconds. No sound was coming from Rat Bastard, which was troubling. Was he dead? Had she killed him after all?
Then the squeak of the surgical array’s cart wheels startled her. The screech was followed by a groan of pain and swear words. She pictured Asshat using the cart to help himself stand.
With his position fixed in her mind, she dove across the doorway and fired Rat Bastard’s laser, set on low stun, through the opening at the approximate spot Asshat’s torso should be.
He bellowed his pain.
Her weapon readied, she peeked around the corner.
Asshat lay on his back, pale and laboring for each breath. Defanged, for now.
Rat Bastard became her focus. His bleeding was sluggish, an indication his heart had slowed immeasurably.
Bria came around the corner. She knelt, put the weapon in her waistband, and checked Rat Bastard’s pulse. It was fast, thready. Breathing, shallow. Color, white. She pulled the surgical laser over from where it had fallen to the floor and sealed the hole in the artery. Now, she needed to get him on a regen bed, pour blood in him, and do a little arterial repair work or he’d die.
Asshat moved. She turned. He aimed his laser pistol in a white-knuckled, shaking grip. The man would just not quit.
Pulling her laser as she rolled to the side, she sent a laser stream, this time on high, into his torso.
Asshat dropped his weapon as her shot knocked him flat on his back—again.
&nb
sp; Even if he were still conscious, his nerve endings would be synapsing like crazy. He wouldn’t be able to hold a spoon to feed himself, let alone fire a laser, for hours after such a hit.
“Brianna!” Iolyn’s voice echoed down the hallway leading to the medica.
Now, she’d get the lecture that even now he rehearsed in his mind about placing herself in a position to be attacked by pirates. He needed to save his breath. She’d do everything she’d done again except the next time she’d remember to arm herself while doing surgery in a place where there was a threat potential. And to always use high stun.
There will be no next time.
Yeah, there would. She was a doctor, and she’d go wherever the patients were. It was her calling.
I’m your calling.
Arrogant ass.
Bria slammed her walls back up and muttered, “We’ll just see about that, mate.”
“Brianna, stop shutting me out!” Iolyn’s roar vibrated over her skin and made her knees shake. He was the epitome of a frustrated, pissed-off male.
Well, she’d had a lot of those in her life. One more would be a no-brainer—but she dropped her shields because there’d been some hurt mixed up in all the alpha-male frustration.
“Bria, goddammit. Talk to us!”
And that was her brother. Guess he’d gotten past the frank “talk” they’d had earlier. She’d forgiven the family and him for keeping her Prime heritage a secret after his very rational explanation. And she couldn’t be mad that he loved her, but she was sad he was hurting.
Right now, he was just as pissed-off as her gemat. They really were quite a lot alike.
He wouldn’t appreciate the comparison, gemate lubha.
Bria couldn’t help but grin at Iolyn’s wry tone.
“I’m in the surgery,” she called out. “Situation is under control…” then Bria muttered, “…as you, my gemat, well know.”
Prime Imperative (The Prime Chronicles Book 3) Page 13
