Lincoln (sci-fi romance - The Ember Quest Book 3)

by Arcadia Shield

  “There’s no way that will happen,” muttered Anastasia. “We can take them. There’s not that many.”

  Lincoln checked the rearview mirror and spotted three soldiers creeping toward them. The odds weren’t in their favor, but with Anastasia’s fire and his accurate aim they stood a chance.

  “Just wish we had our dragon hybrid friends in the back operating on full power,” he said.

  “It’s just us.” Anastasia reached over and squeezed his knee. “We can do this.”

  He loved the fact Anastasia had so much confidence in him. And he’d faced worse odds before and come out the other side. “You focus on the two at the front. I’ll take out the guys creeping up behind us.”

  She flashed him a smile. “They won’t know what’s hit them.”

  “You have ten seconds to step out of the vehicle,” yelled the soldier. “If you don’t comply, we’ll open fire.”

  “Ready?” asked Lincoln.

  “Let’s do this.”

  They swung their doors open at the same time. Lincoln lined up his first shot and slammed the soldier in the chest with a laser blast.

  The air heated as Anastasia blasted fire toward the other soldiers, creating a barrier of flame between them, charging the air with smoke and ash.

  Lincoln aimed again and took out the next soldier before ducking as laser fire shot over his head.

  He heard Anastasia growl as she shot more flames toward the soldiers. They retreated from the fire, shooting their weapons through the blaze, but not able to get an accurate lock on them.

  Laser fire slammed into the back of the Jeep. Lincoln heard the dragon hybrids inside scream. A second later, the back door of the Jeep slammed open.

  Lincoln raced around and saw the three dragon hybrids staring out at the flames. “Stay inside.”

  “What’s happening?” asked Damson, her eyes wide.

  “We’re taking care of it,” said Lincoln. “Stay where you are until we’ve dealt with the militia.”

  “Militia!” Olivia cringed away from the door, her voice filled with panic. “They took me the first time. They’ve come to take me back.”

  “They won’t do that.” Lincoln dropped to the ground as a blast of laser skimmed past him. “Stay in the Jeep.” He tried to get the door shut, but Damson held it open.

  “We should run,” she said, her panicked gaze shooting around the street. “We can lose them in the back alleys.”

  “Stay where you are,” yelled Lincoln. More laser fire slammed into the Jeep and the dragon hybrids screamed again and cowered inside.

  “We aren’t safe,” said Olivia.

  Damson jumped out the back of the Jeep, followed by Olivia. Caitlyn watched them with woozy eyes, as she struggled toward the open door on her hands and knees.

  Lincoln cursed and rolled onto his stomach, taking aim at the last soldier he could see. His eyes narrowed and his gut clenched as six more soldiers joined the fight, sliding in from side alleyways. They’d been set up. This was a real ambush.

  “Anastasia!” he yelled.

  When she didn’t answer, he flung himself around the side of the Jeep. Anastasia was on the ground, blood leaking from a wound on her leg and a deep gash on her head.

  “Shit!” He crawled toward her, his heart racing when he saw the amount of blood she’d lost. His fingers fumbled for her pulse. She was unconscious and her breathing labored, but she was alive.

  Dragging her closer to the Jeep, he pulled open the passenger door and heaved her inside, ignoring the blasts of lasers skimming around him.

  A scream had him turning on his heel. Lincoln saw Damson and Caitlyn being restrained by the soldiers. Olivia was face down on the ground, her arms and legs splayed and blood running from a wound on her head.

  He fired at the soldiers as he dashed to the other side of the Jeep and flung himself into the driver’s seat. He had to get Anastasia somewhere safe. The bunker was too far, and it was too much of a risk with the militia pursuing them. They couldn’t discover their base.

  Gunning the engine, he raced the truck through the remnants of Anastasia’s fire, not slowing as he smashed into the militia’s armored vehicle. Metal screeched and tore as he forced the vehicle to the end of the street and out of his way. He had to get Anastasia treatment before she bled out.

  Cursing as he picked up speed, he realized there was only one place to go. Back to the fight club. If he could shake off the militia and get back there, he could save Anastasia.

  He commed through to Clive, not waiting for him to speak once the link activated. “We’ve run into a problem.”

  “What kind of problem?” Clive’s tone was sharp.

  “The militia found us.”

  “Fuck! You get the merchandise?”

  “That’s what they wanted,” said Lincoln. “Ambushed the vehicle, tried to kill us, and took the women. One is dead.”

  “That’s expensive merchandise you’re playing with.”

  “I didn’t realize we were dealing with actual living people,” growled Lincoln.

  “Shouldn’t make a difference to your orders,” said Clive. “Where are you?”

  “Heading back to you. Anastasia’s injured.”

  “Get the fuck back here and I’ll sort your mess out.”

  Lincoln killed the comms and focused on driving, changing his route frequently to keep the militia off his tail. Anastasia was still unconscious and growing paler by the second as more blood seeped out of her leg wound.

  “We’re almost there.” He reached over and caught hold of her hand, but her fingers remained limp. His heart raced and his vision blurred. She had to be okay. She couldn’t die.

  He did a final check before changing course and speeding toward the fight club. He couldn’t afford any more delays. If the militia were tailing him, he’d have to fight them inside the club.

  Five minutes later, he screeched to a stop, grabbed Anastasia from the passenger seat and ran into the club. “Just hold on. You’ll be fine.”

  Anastasia stirred in his arms but didn’t respond.

  “Clive!” roared Lincoln as he raced into the club, kicking open the main door and entering the gloomy stillness of the empty bar.

  Clive emerged from the back of the club, a small, curly haired woman by his side. Her face was thin and lined and her eyes narrowed. “This is June. She’ll sort Anastasia out.”

  June nodded and gestured to a long table at the side of the room. “Place her there.” She sat a bag on the table and pressed her hands together as her eyes roved over Anastasia’s injuries.

  “She’s been hit with a laser.” Lincoln placed Anastasia down carefully and brushed her hair off her face.

  “If she wasn’t such a good fighter I wouldn’t bother helping you,” said Clive, as he squinted down at Anastasia. “But the crowd like her and she makes me plenty of credit.”

  Lincoln ground his teeth together and ignored Clive’s comment, his focus on Anastasia. He watched as June opened her bag, sliced through Anastasia’s jeans, and inspected the leg wound.

  Clive’s hand landed on Lincoln’s shoulder. He resisted the urge to shrug it off and punch him. “So, what happened?”

  “Later,” said Lincoln.

  “Now,” said Clive. “You’ve lost me a lot of credit by letting those women escape.”

  “They didn’t escape,” said Lincoln. “The militia knew what we were doing and followed us as soon as we left the university.”

  “You couldn’t shake them off?”

  “They blocked us in,” said Lincoln. “Then more arrived. Someone here must have tipped them off. If I’d have known they were on to us, I’d have used a different route. Kept out of their way.”

  “Wouldn’t have been anyone from here. All my staff are loyal. If they aren’t they know what happens to them.”

  “Someone told the militia,” said Lincoln, forcing his voice to sound calm. “We were discreet. In and out quickly. And saw no one inside the university who could ha
ve squealed on us.”

  “Must have done,” said Clive.

  “Not possible,” said Lincoln. “They knew to expect us.”

  Clive dropped his hand from Lincoln’s shoulder. “We’ll look into it. But you both owe me for this.”

  “Not our fault.”

  “It was your job. You messed up.” Clive’s tone grew cold.

  “Find the person who ratted us out. Make them pay.”

  Clive’s gaze slid to Anastasia. “She’s a good fighter, but I bet she has other talents.”

  “What if she does?” Lincoln’s hands balled into fists at the suggestive tone in Clive’s voice.

  “She can work off the debt on her knees.” Clive’s grin turned sly. “She’d be popular with the crowd with those freaky mod scales. Exactly how far under her clothes do they go?”

  “She’s not into that.”

  “She might need to get into it,” said Clive.

  Flickers of red tracked across Lincoln’s gaze, as he fought not to slam Clive’s head into the ground. “How she doing?” he growled at June.

  “She’ll live.” June was stitching the wound on Anastasia’s leg. “Hit the femoral artery. She’s lost a lot of blood.”

  “June can always be relied upon to bring people back from the brink of death,” said Clive. “She patches up all the fighters. Been with me for years.”

  Anastasia groaned and her eyes flickered open.

  Lincoln took hold of her hand, ignoring the irritated huff June made as he got in her way. “I’m here.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Don’t worry about talking,” said Lincoln. “We’re back at the fight club. You were shot by the soldiers who attacked the Jeep.” He wanted to make sure Anastasia wouldn’t say anything to blow their cover in her weakened state.

  “The women?”

  “Taken by the militia,” said Lincoln, feeling a trace of guilt at leaving them behind. But he had to protect Anastasia.

  She tried to prop herself on her elbows, but failed and fell back on the table, hissing out curses as she did so. “We need to get them.”

  “They’ll be long gone.” Clive joined Lincoln by the table and stared down at Anastasia. “I was just talking about how you might work off your debt.”

  “Another time,” growled Lincoln. “She’s lucky to be alive.”

  “You both are.” Clive glared at Lincoln. “And what’s to say the two of you didn’t set this up? Maybe you know a few soldiers and tipped them off about the cargo. Those women will fetch a good price with the right buyer.”

  “We had no idea what we were picking up,” said Lincoln. “I thought we were picking up dragon bones, not people.”

  Clive’s smile turned feral. “There’s a lot you need to learn.”

  “I know enough.” There were a few things Lincoln would like to teach Clive, especially if he continued to leer at Anastasia’s bare leg.

  “I imagine you do. A smart guy like you.” Clive gestured to the bar. “Let’s have a drink. We can talk about exactly what you do know.”

  Concern crawled along Lincoln’s spine. “No. I want to make sure Taser is okay.”

  “She’s awake, she’ll be fine,” said Clive. “Come have a drink.”

  Lincoln shook his head. As soon as she was fit enough, they were getting out of here. This place felt about as safe as a giant millipede’s nest. “It’s too early for me.”

  “It’s never too early.” Clive strode to the bar and brought back four glasses and a bottle of whiskey. “Why don’t we toast? To you not getting yourselves killed on the job.”

  “Is that considered a sign of success?”

  Clive poured the whiskey, placing a glass next to Anastasia, and then handing one to June, who took it and tipped it back with one gulp.

  “Some aren’t cut out for this life,” said Clive, as he handed Lincoln his own glass. “You know your way around a fight. I’m not sure you’ve got it in you to make it as permanent team members.”

  “I’m not sure we’ll be sticking around for long anyway,” said Lincoln, as he swirled the whiskey around in his glass. The astringent smell turned his stomach.

  “Already bored with my club?”

  “I don’t like dealing in pregnant women.”

  “You have a conscience,” said Clive. “A thug with a heart. I’ll soon beat that out of you.”

  “Not sure I want it beaten out of me.”

  “It makes life easier if you don’t care. You do any deal so long as you get what you want.”

  Lincoln’s gut clenched at the smirk on Clive’s face. “How you doing, Taser?”

  “I will punch this bitch if she keeps prodding me.” Anastasia’s voice sounded groggy.

  “Sounds like she’s recovering well.” Clive grinned and downed his whiskey.

  Lincoln placed his untouched drink on the table and moved to the other side of Anastasia. “Are you okay to move?”

  “What’s the hurry?” asked Clive. “Let her stay and recover some more. A shot in the leg like that takes time to heal. June hasn’t even looked at her head wound.”

  “We should go to the hospital,” said Lincoln. “I panicked when I brought her here. Needed to get the militia off my back.”

  “You don’t trust my treatment?” June shot him a sharp look.

  “I’m sure you’re excellent at what you do,” said Lincoln.

  “You didn’t panic when you decided to come back here,” said Clive, his hand settling on the gun in his waistband. “Why did you really return here?”

  Lincoln shrugged, forcing himself to look like he didn’t care. “This was the closest place. I didn’t want Taser bleeding out all over the inside of the Jeep.”

  “Or perhaps it’s because you didn’t want to be identified.”

  Lincoln’s head shot up and his gaze moved past Clive as four soldiers entered the bar.

  ANASTASIA SHOVED JUNE’S cold, probing fingers away and struggled to sit up. She glared at Clive. “You’re working for the State?”

  “I am,” said Clive. “Everyone is.”

  Lincoln moved to stand in front of Anastasia. “This fight club is just a front so you can do their dirty work.”

  “Call it what you like,” said Clive. “I do what the State tells me to, and they allow me to run my business. They were particularly interested when they heard about my two new fighters. I always run new recruits through them, in case they’re on the wanted list. After doing some digging, we discovered old archive footage that didn’t match your profile. Lincoln Ember.”

  “You’re making a mistake.” Anastasia could hear the forced calmness in Lincoln’s voice. “Never heard of the guy.”

  “Nice try,” said Clive. “I had to work hard to get the information. But you were too good of a fighter to have simply rolled in off the street.” His gaze slid to Anastasia. “And as for this one, she was a bonus. I know nothing about you, beautiful, but you can fight and you have freaky abilities the State are interested in learning about. They paid me plenty of credits for both of you.”

  Forcing herself to climb off the table, her leg protesting and her head pounding, Anastasia stood beside Lincoln and purposely brushed her hand against his. Her throat tightened as she studied the soldiers blocking the door. They would have to fight their way out, yet she was having trouble even standing.

  Clive beckoned the soldiers closer. “They’re all yours. Try not to make too much of a mess of this place. I’ve got a fight on tonight.”

  The front soldier grunted and focused his gun on Anastasia. “Turn around and keep your mouth away from us. Don’t want your freaky dragon fire causing problems.”

  Anastasia sucked in air, tempted to blast him off his feet. But the other three weapons were trained on her, and Lincoln stood by her side. Reluctantly, she shuffled around, glaring at June as she hurried out of the way, clutching her medical bag.

  “Put your hands behind your backs,” said the soldier. “Do it nice and slow. We want no mo
re trouble.”

  Lincoln glanced at her. “You okay?”

  “Will be when we get out of here,” said Anastasia. “Any idea how we’re going to do that?”

  “I always have a plan.” He winked at her and glanced down at his waistband. She could detect the bulge of a handgun. “I’ll take the ones on the left. You blast the guys on the right. Then run for it. Don’t wait for me.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not leaving you behind.”

  “If you get the chance, then go,” said Lincoln. “No point in us both being caught. Get in touch with Heath and tell him what’s going on. He’ll know what to do. They’ll be close by, wondering what happened when we missed the meetup point.”

  “I don’t want to leave you.” Anastasia’s pulse raced and her injuries throbbed.

  “We can argue about this later,” said Lincoln. “Ready?”

  She wasn’t, but she had to help Lincoln. There was no way in hell she’d give up on him just because she’d been hit a couple of times with a laser.

  They both turned. Anastasia spat fire, the flames jagged and sporadic. Two of the soldiers flung themselves to the ground. She saw Lincoln’s laser gun fire and heard the muffled yells of the other soldiers as they fell backwards.

  Clive yelped and dived over the bar, disappearing in a crash of broken glass.

  Anastasia’s leg burned. She felt the wound that had been patched up open. Ignoring the sting of the injury, she grabbed Lincoln’s hand. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  They made it to the door but were blasted back the soldiers in the corridor.

  “We go through the back.” Lincoln hurried her toward the offices, but Anastasia pulled up short, her heart racing. There were two soldiers heading toward them. They were surrounded.

  She spun on her heel and looked around the room. “This way.” The serving hatch into the storeroom was just big enough to climb through. She hissed and growled as her wounds protested, but pulled herself through to the other side.

  Anastasia turned and gasped as she saw Lincoln dragged away by two soldiers. She flung herself at the opening, her heart pounding so hard it made her dizzy.

  “Go!” yelled Lincoln as a soldier shoved him to his knees and held a weapon to his head.