Minutes, hours passed. Sasha wasn’t sure how long she rocked in place, unable to move from her huddled ball. Something had broken through the shell she’d wrapped around herself.
Above her a door slammed open. Boots stomped across the ceiling. Sasha jerked to a crouch, glancing around in confusion. Screams sounded. She backed up until she hit the rough of a cold wall. Harsh voices raised in demand. Then one she’d always recognize.
“Where is Sasha, Kirkem?”
Jaron? Her breathing escalated as Sasha lifted her head, gaze straining pointlessly in the dark hovel. He’d come back for her. So many feelings, too many to pin down or describe at the knowledge he had come back for her. More banging, screams and then weapon fire.
Battling the ebb and flow of arousal she waited, breath suspended in her throat. Above her head, a hinge whined and creaked. Sasha waited, jumping as something large landed near her. She released her claws, her low rumbling growl filling the cavern.
“Sasha! It’s me.” Jaron hauled her close.
Helpless tears spilled over her lids. “Jaron.”
Her arms clenched about his neck. Frantic kisses and a deep seated feeling of being where she needed to be. Buttons and hooks on his shirt brushed her tender nipples, her thighs rubbed together and she groaned, part misery part relief. Jaron’s hold on her loosened.
“Kitten. Shh.” Jaron’s voice soothed even as Sasha tried to climb onto his lap. He seemed to be on his knees beside her.
“My eyes, Jaron. H-hhe took my eyes,” was all she got out before a sob broke free.
“I’m here. Let me help you.”
There was no help for her. Didn’t he understand? Sasha twisted her fingers about his shirt, unable to let go. “Did you hear me?”
“Easy kitten. Damn it.” His fingers fumbled at her temple then her eyes.
Sasha flinched and sought to pull away from his poking fingers. What did he think to do?
“No, Sasha. Trust me one more minute longer.” The rough pad of his fingers probed at her eyes and sudden light filtered in. Grainy but she made out the outline of his robust form, real and live beside her. “He didn’t take your eyes. He put black lenses over them.
As Jaron helped her to her feet, he cupped Sasha’s cheeks and leaned forward. Lips brushed hers. “Prettiest green eyes I ever did see.”
Chest tight, Sasha cried out and threw her arms about his neck. “Fucking Dr. Kirkem.”
Jaron snorted out a laugh and eased back. “We have to get out of here. Your ankle?”
Forcing back another flare of unwanted desire, moisture seeped down her thighs. “It’s healed.”
“Tell me what else he did to you.”
She knew what drove the demand. There was no missing her naked state. Not waiting for her answer, Jaron dropped to a squat, running his hands over her body, checking for signs of injury. Every stroke pushed her toward a reluctant climax.
Sasha shivered and wrapped her arms about her waist. “Nothing. He kept trying to recreate muata.”
Jaron froze. From his position on his knees, he titled his head back to face her. “Did he touch you?”
It was hard not to miss the anger in each word. She brushed the knit mask from his head and buried her fingers in his blond waves, needing to touch him, see him. Worry creased his brows. “No. At first it made me violently ill. Or at least the version he used on you. The second time I think it worked, but he let his fury get the best of him. He wasn’t satisfied with the results and threatened to take away my sight.”
His blue eyes hardened and he stared longer as if wanting to read the truth on her face. Finally, he bowed his head, releasing her from his penetrating gaze.
“Come on.” He stood. “I’m taking you out of here.”
Jaron led her beneath the square opening in the ceiling. “Arak! A little help.”
A long black cable dropped down to swing in front of their faces. Jaron tugged her over and knelt once more, fastening a harness around her shoulders and waist. Sasha tried to remain still but everywhere he touched her body twitched and jerked. She wanted to grind her hips against him but gritted her teeth against the need.
“Sorry, sorry,” Jaron muttered with a brief squeeze to her upper thigh as he rose. The small touch came with its own brand of hurt. “Can you hold me without causing you pain?”
Gladly. Anything to get out of here. “Yes.”
Sasha wrapped her arms about his neck and heard a distinct click. He pulled the mask back down over his face, leaving only steely blue eyes behind. Slowly they rose in the air, Jaron gripping her tight, his hands a warm weight on her lower back. The moment her head broke through the opening in the floor, Sasha’s senses came to life. Blood, fear, anger and a host of other scents.
Their feet hit the planks of the floor at the same time. Jaron eased her away and disconnected the equipment he had placed on her. Another man in all black looped the cable they’d used and tucked it on a pouch on his belt. The third man, another Jutak warrior, held The Collector at gun point.
Both of them wore all black uniforms and masks covered their faces with the exception of their eyes. One set of blue and one set of green. The green gaze worried Sasha because they blazed with unchecked fury.
Dr. Kirkem shot her a hate filled glare from his position on his knees, hands up in surrender. “I should have known this was about you.”
It took every bit of will power she possessed considering her body craved an orgasm, but Sasha straightened her shoulders and held her head high. She let a smirk play about her mouth. “I told you the Jutaks would be back.”
“What are we doing with him?” The green-eyed soldier raised his laser until the end pointed directly at Dr. Kirkem’s forehead.
The dark look in his gaze said he didn’t care either way.
“Cuff him to take back,” Jaron said, not releasing Sasha’s hand. The secure grip reassured.
Shaking, she leaned a little of her weight into his side, wanting the warmth of his closeness even though it spurred the residual desire from the drugs pounding in her veins.
“I’d better do that.” The Jutak with the blue eyes crossed the room with a pair of plasti-cuffs.
Musk. Familiar. Sasha inhaled. “You’re…”
Jaron tensed and with a quick glance over, he shook his head. “Later.”
She realized the reason. She’d almost disclosed aloud that the blue eyed one was Argoran. It made sense they went to great extremes to protect their identities. Not just their names but their origins. Although another sniff confirmed he wasn’t full Argoran. Something else. Jaron leaned toward her.
“Fuck!”
Sasha turned in time to see The Collector leap to his feet to shove the soldier to the side. Retribution glittered in the brown depths as he turned toward her.
“Intruders!” Dr. Kirkem shouted.
Jaron tried to protect Sasha by stepping in front of her, but she dodged the move and leaped for Dr. Kirkem, her only thought of vengeance.
“Sasha, no!”
Two short laser bursts followed. A window shattered behind Sasha as she slammed into Kirkem. He screamed, wind milling his arms backward. Her knees hooked around his hips, one hand clamped around his shoulder as she took him down and pummeled his face.
Blood. She smelled blood, but Sasha didn’t care. Another fist to his arrogant nose and the rich crunch of bone sang to her spirit.
“Get her back, Jaron!” one of the men snapped.
An arm hooked about her waist, dragging her away. Sasha kicked out, the scent and need to kill a compulsion. Jaron lost his grip and Sasha snarled hurling forward only to come up short again. This time by a firm grip about her ankle. She had the evil man in her sights. The drugs, the awful false flames of desire he’d deliberately stoked. She’d kill him.
The Collector laughed, rolling from his prone position to his side and meeting Sasha’s stare. There was so much smug pleasure there she considered if killing him would ever rid her of the horrible memories
after what he’d done to her.
Laughter continued in a rising tide, the snickers drilling holes into her mind. She lashed out in a desperate attempt to reach him. Her claws trapped his right leg to the floor. At the same time, Jaron was equally determined to keep her back.
A little closer. All she needed was a few more inches. Sasha raised her other hand to deliver the killing blow.
Jaron grabbed her wrist in an iron-fast hold and wrapped an arm about her middle as he once more pulled her from The Collector. They slid backward across the floor, Sasha fighting the whole way. Jaron held her securely between his thighs. Both arms locked about her waist as he buried his face at the base of her neck.
Laser blasts sounded. The doctor finally stopped laughing. The green eyed Jutak stood over him. “Give me a reason. I want to tear you apart piece by piece and listen to you scream until you go hoarse.”
Sasha gripped the forearm about her chest and realized the harsh cries filling the room came from her ravaged throat. Charged energy from the attack crashed around inside her. Her stomach heaved. Pressure built in her chest until she thought she’d pass out.
“Shh, shh, no more. It is over.” Jaron repeated the litany over and over, arms clamped about her.
“I’m fine,” she lied, her heart drumming a million beats. “I’m fine.”
Jaron leaned his head around to see her face. Whatever he read there must have reassured him because he eased up and stood. Sasha accepted his help to stand beside him.
“Thanks.” Jaron acknowledged the others.
Plasti-cuffs went on Dr. Kirkem without protest this time. The blue eyed one grabbed Dr. Kirkem by the arm. “We should hurry.”
Sasha was more than ready. As her adrenaline cooled, she felt silly standing there in nothing while they gathered.
As if reading her mind, Jaron asked. “Do you want to shift or take my shirt?”
Her cat wanted out but with the drugs in her system and in light of her recent reaction, Sasha didn’t think it a good idea. Her knees were a bit shaky, but that wouldn’t stop her. “Your shirt. Please.”
Being wrapped in his scent would give her something to distract from the way her skin tingled and her loins fired off shots of desire every few seconds. Jaron removed his protective vest then his shirt. Sasha buttoned it from the bottom up as he slid the vest back on. Closing her eyes briefly, she inhaled the comfort of being surrounded by all that was Jaron.
When her lids opened, her gaze followed the glide of his muscles, the flex of his powerful arms holding the laser and the way his black pants hugged his thick thighs.
“Quick introduction then we are out of here.”
Sasha couldn’t agree more with that declaration.
Chapter 18
Jaron pointed at each of the men. “Sasha, my team mates, Arak and Kyele. This is Bounty Retriever Sasha F’lan.”
After a slight hesitation, Kyele pushed his mask up and let it hang about the back of his neck. Sasha took in the scar marring one side of his face, the menacing gaze and nodded. “Thank you both for coming to my rescue.”
Both covered their faces and turned to Jaron.
He owed The Collector for all he’d done to them. Especially Sasha. She trembled standing next to him, her green pupils dilated, hints of red beneath the bronze glow of her cheekbones.
At first, he’d worried Dr. Kirkem had succeeded in forcing her to release as they’d done him. But she’d answered him honestly.
It was obvious she was still under the influence of the drug. Her body betrayed its arousal from the light aroma emanating from her skin to the glazed look in her eyes and her swollen breasts with the hardened peaks. He tried to think of a way to calm her as she struggled to fight the effects.
Arak flickered a glance in his direction and tipped his head subtly toward Sasha. If any one could scent her body’s reaction it was the fellow Argoran. “Are you going to be alright, Sasha?”
“Yes, just get me out of here, Jaron.”
Her familiar lightly accented words rang with a rich flavor that hummed with confidence. “I can do that.”
Her shoulders eased and her gaze appeared more lucid. “There are a few guards who survived. Stragglers remain from the previous attack. I got the feeling The Collector was waiting or expecting help soon in order to leave.”
The realization he’d made it in time shook Jaron. As Sasha moved to pass him, he grabbed her by the arm, careful of her skin. Her eyes glittered, desire evident. All too easily Jaron recalled what it had felt like to have his body not under his command.
He could imagine Sasha’s hatred toward Dr. Kirkem for witnessing her lack of control. He gathered her close and pressed his head to the top of hers. He murmured several things she probably didn’t understand. Enotia had many words for love or loving and her translator was sure to miss a few. He didn’t care. All that mattered was holding and reassuring her.
“Jaron. No time,” Kyele muttered with a roll of his eyes.
Swallowing past the thickness of his relief, Jaron nodded and gripped Sasha’s hand. This time he wasn’t letting go no matter what she said. They were leaving together.
Arak peered around the door. “Clear.”
They left single file, Jaron trusting these two to lead while he continued to check on Sasha. He shouldn’t have worried. She kept pace with him, gliding quietly over the ground they covered, a result of the smooth stalking grace of the cat within her.
It wasn’t long before Dr. Kirkem began to speculate aloud about Joni. Taunting, questioning, his goal obviously to discover any information about her.
“Are any of you associated with the Jutak holding my Joni? Do you think she misses me as much as I miss her? I wonder if she has to lie and pretend what was between us was all forced.”
Kyele grew more and more stiff if possible. No one spoke. Occasionally, Dr. Kirkem met their glances, waiting for one of them to take the bait. Replying would have fed his ego. He said other things that became background noise.
The crashing sound of approaching soldiers reached them. “Shoot anyone who gets in our way. We have no time left.”
Jaron only cared about getting Sasha out alive.
“The Jutak who has her will always fall short in one area,” Dr. Kirkem announced.
His tone had changed. Grown smug. Jaron’s muscles tensed in preparation. He glanced at Arak and they nodded slightly at each other. They’d stop Kyele if The Collector pushed too hard.
“Pain and pleasure only I could do for her,” he tossed out.
Jaron reached for Kyele, but it was Sasha who surprised them, her movement swift and true. Dr. Kirkem screamed, slapping a hand to the side of his head. Blood seeped between his fingers and splattered the ground. In startling clarity, Jaron realized the mutilated oval shape lying on the dirt was The Collector’s ear.
“Shut! Up!” Sasha’s threat didn’t go ignored. Whimpers escaped his firmly pressed lips, but he ceased his barrage of meaningless chatter. “I don’t know who Joni is, but she’s probably grateful to be away from you. In fact, I’d bet credits on it.”
Kyele met Jaron’s gaze and his elated humor was difficult to miss. Moving Sasha on the other side, away from the suddenly quiet doctor seemed a good idea albeit late. Her muted growls tipped the corner of Jaron’s lips up. “Keep moving. We don’t have time to bicker with him.”
They managed a few more feet. Apparently pain and a missing ear wasn’t a strong enough detriment. The Collector started again. Only this time he began reminiscing about his favorite torture sessions.
With Joni.
On and on he went, the glow in his eyes proof of how much satisfaction he took in the memories. As a Jutak, Jaron experienced many horrors and witnessed atrocities he’d never unsee. Dr. Kirkem rivaled the worst of what Jaron had come into contact with.
Dr. Kirkem licked his lips, mouth curved in a smile and his pants jutting in an obvious bulge of arousal. “Her fear. Her screams. Mmm, I’ve never experienced anything sweeter
.”
Sasha hissed, jerking in Jaron’s hold but he didn’t let go. Kyele, on the other hand, broke away and was on The Collector before Arak or Jaron could do anything but watch. Kyele assumed his other form, becoming a sleek, tall funnel of silver gray, an ability only those born of the Spectar bloodline possessed.
The whirling force zipped around the screaming doctor, engulfing him at the center of the destructive force. Blood sprayed. Screams turned to gurgles. Sasha choked off a cry, staring in appalled fascination.
When it was over, Kyele shifted back to his physical body, panting. Jaron glanced down at the mess. The Collector was done. He admired the crumpled form of the now deceased doctor. The knife work was that of someone who’d perfected the art. Trust Kyele to have chosen to decimate him in this manner. What was left of him wasn’t worth taking back to Enotia.
“I guess Torkel will not be able to question him about his involvement with Lothar,” Arak said into the stunned quiet.
Kyele exhaled and closed his eyes. When he opened them again he was utterly calm. He leaned over and retrieved his fallen laser. “He was going to attack the hostage.”
The bland tone and lie didn’t fool any of them.
“Torkel should have made me acting Team Leader,” Arak added.
Sasha stared at Kyele, green eyes dark with memories Jaron never wanted to know. “Whatever reason you had, thank you.”
***
Sasha’s second bout of freedom tasted as good as the first except this time she harbored no doubt they’d escape this planet.
“Come on,” Sasha tossed over her shoulder, already racing down the hill.
Jaron and his friends stayed near, never farther than steps around her at all times. They remained vigilant and she appreciated the caution. None of them knew what to expect.
At her side, Jaron reached for her then stopped. Conflict registered in his eyes. She wished she could rip his mask off. She lov…no she liked his face. It was the only L word acceptable right now. The rest would be dealt with later.
“What is it, Jaron?”
She heard his sigh over the sound of guards trampling in their direction. Trying to be quiet at this point was a wasted effort. “I don’t want to touch you if it’s going to bring you pain.”
Jaron's Promise Page 16
