Taking Liberty

by Jodi Redford

  “Got you, you little—” Shock held her immobilized. A lizard at least three feet in length crouched on the other side of the rock, a flicking tail disappearing between its wickedly sharp teeth. Once the ginormo lizard finished chowing on its puny cousin, its beady eyes trained on her.

  “Oh shit.” Heart tripping, Rini backed up.

  An ominous hiss rasped from the beast. With dizzying speed, one of its front claws struck Rini’s leg, slashing the cotton barrier of her cargo pants. Pain seared her flesh but she had no time to yelp as the lizard sprang for her throat. The weight knocked her off her feet, slamming her to the ground. She beat at the creature, trying to dislodge it and avoid its snapping jaws at the same time. Giving it a fierce pummel upside its head, she knocked the lizard from her chest. She rolled, frantically scrabbling onto her elbows. Surging to its feet, the lizard leapt at her.

  A horrific scream ripped through the night and scarlet-tipped wings flapped overhead, colliding with the lizard.

  Rini fell back with a gasp as the buzzard dug its talons into the lizard and carted it off with a triumphant squawk. She slumped, stunned relief forcing a laugh from her. “I can’t believe Big Ugly just saved my ass.”

  Her limbs wobbly, she stood and swiped Lucus’s shirt. She managed two steps before a strange numbness crawled up her leg and seized her calf muscles, making her stumble. Frowning, she shuffled forward. The tingly sensation traveled to her other leg. Dragging her right foot, she scuffed towards the Liberty. Less than twenty yards from the ship, she lost all mobility in her legs and thunked to the ground like a toppled domino. Except for the sting radiating from the gashes where the lizard attacked her, everything from her rib cage down was deadened. Remembering the warnings in the various zoological textbooks she’d studied prior to her ranger training ops, she mumbled a curse, her heart rate spiking.

  From the look of things, she’d just had her first encounter with a brown-bellied nictick lizard. Once infected with the nictick’s venom, the victim suffered complete paralysis. She didn’t need to worry about the lizard returning to savor his slow, leisurely dinner but that didn’t mean she was out of the woods. Or out of the desert, to be more precise. She stared at the hulking outline of the Liberty in the distance. In her condition, the sixty feet separating her from the ship might as well be a thousand miles.

  The clod of dirt beneath her cheek absorbed her anguished moan. “Fate, could you be a bigger smart aleck?”

  A hungry scream echoed above.

  She gulped. “Forget I asked.”

  Lucus plowed his fist into the guard’s jaw and the Aquatican reciprocated by whipping a tentacle out and slamming Lucus against the corridor wall. They’d been at it for close to fifteen minutes and it was beginning to wear on Lucus. At least that’s what he told himself as he staggered sideways, his vision going wonky. Under normal circumstances, he would have kicked this eight-armed, thong-wearin’ freak’s ass six ways to Sunday.

  “Getting tired?” A raspy chuckle trickled from the guard and he lunged forward.

  Sidestepping the guard’s flailing tentacles, Lucus squeezed a laugh past the harsh breaths hogging his windpipe. “No. You?”

  “Hardly.” A wicked gleam of excitement shone in the Aquatican’s eyes as he circled Lucus with the nimble quickstep of a pugilist’s dance. “Perhaps I should have warned you earlier. My cousin is Sammer the Hammer. Perhaps you’ve heard of him?”

  The undisputed intergalactic boxing champion. Shit, who hadn’t heard of him? Lucus narrowly ducked a flying tentacle. “So I take it the Hammer taught you a few tricks.”

  “Only his best.”

  Fuck, time to level the playing field. Lucus twisted to the left and brought his boot up hard between the guard’s legs. The Aquatican fell, his shrill, girlish shriek rattling the windowpanes.

  “Learned that trick from an ex-girlfriend. Pretty damn certain you haven’t heard of her.” Grasping one of the limp tentacles sagging near his foot, Lucus dragged the guard into the room behind them. He spied a steel door propped open on the farthest wall and towed the blubbering Aquatican inside what turned out to be a pantry. After grabbing four boxes of powdered soup and a bag of biscuits from the shelf, Lucus wedged a chair under the door handle, ensuring no convenient escape for the guard. By the time he exited the station, the sun had officially cozied down for the night.

  He gave the star-riddled sky a wry grimace. “Seems no matter how I time it, I’m always stuck stumbling around in the dark.” Returning to the cluster of boulders, he stuffed the newly acquired rations of food in the pac-sack and reloaded himself. The good news was if he kept a brisk pace and didn’t stop to sleep, he’d reach Rini and the Liberty by midafternoon.

  His stiff resolve took a hike several hours later when the sleep-deprived hallucinations began setting in. Every time he came across a cactus, he damn near jumped out of his skin mistaking the plant for some chubby specter of death. Considering the cacti-filled desert surrounding him, his chances of suffering a heart attack within the next five minutes looked good. If that weren’t bad enough, the load he carried started to feel about as comfortable as a walrus riding him piggyback.

  Defeated, he dropped his gear and erected the huddle tent. This time no erotic dreams involving Rini played havoc with his mind. But he did get in a quick snooze, which actually made the homeward stretch of his journey less of a living hell.

  The sun stood at full blast by the time he hit the outskirts of the crash site. Sweat poured off him faster than his body manufactured it. Wiping his dripping brow, he scuffed past the large forroc marking the end of the path he’d blazed. The star cruiser loomed ahead. “Honey, I’m home,” he croaked.

  Ignoring the merciless pain and exhaustion draining him, he limped closer to the ship. He spotted Rini sprawled on the desert floor, not far from the shadow cast by the Liberty’s tail fin. Something about the utter stillness of her form made his heart do a slow plummet to his toes.

  Adrenaline renewing his energy, he jerked the pac-sack and huddle tent off and ran. He dropped to his knees beside Rini. With trembling hands, he cupped her neck, feeling for a pulse. The shallow heartbeat was weak, but it was there. His focus lowered to the bloody leg of her pants.

  Rini’s head shifted a tiny fraction and his attention returned to her face just as her eyelashes fluttered. “’Bout time you showed up.”

  “Baby, what the hell happened to you?”

  “Got into a bit of a brawl. With a poisonous lizard. Don’t worry, he looks worse than me.” Her voice floated to his ears, a mere whisper. The frailty of the sound brought a lump to his throat.

  “You can’t walk?”

  Another slight movement of her head gave him his answer. Tucking his arms beneath her shoulders and lower spine, he cradled her against his chest and stood. Pushing the strain in his muscles to the back of his mind, he carried Rini inside the Liberty and lowered her onto the lounger. “I’m going to get you some water. I’ll be right back.”

  “Not going…anywhere.”

  She was cracking jokes. That had to be a good sign. People having the life sucked out of them wouldn’t feel up to one-liners. Fortifying himself with that thought, he rushed to the galley and snagged one of the drinking jugs. When he returned to Rini he found her convulsing. He dropped the jug and it crashed onto the floor, spilling its contents. Unconcerned with the minor catastrophe with the water, he rolled Rini onto her side. Her pant leg rucked up and his gaze landed on the nasty scratches branded on her calf. Through the haze of his fear, he remembered her saying something about being attacked by a poisonous lizard.

  “Fucking son of a—” Biting off the remainder of the curse, he raced from the ship, tearing the ground up at a mad clip to reach his pac-sack. He flew back to the Liberty like a pack of rabid dogs were snarling at his heels. Skidding to a stop next to the lounger, he ripped open the sack and tossed its contents onto the floor. He scrounged through the pile until he came to the medi-kit Rini had put together. Ripping the ti
es free, he unrolled the bag and searched for the venom blocker. He located the small hypodermic syringe and uncapped it. Fisting Rini’s wrist, he inserted the needle just above her biceps and released the plunger, watching the clear liquid disappear from its chamber.

  Minutes passed like long, agonizing hours before Rini stopped her thrashing. He drew her close, wrapping her tight inside the cage of his arms. Who knew if the blocker would continue to work its magic? In the meantime he’d pray for a miracle.

  Chapter Twelve

  Lucus gave the soup-filled pan suspended over the fire ring a final stir before ladling the broth into a bowl. He ducked inside the Liberty and settled on the carton he’d dragged next to the lounger. Rini remained locked in unconsciousness. The hair plastered against her perspiring cheek stirred with her soft breaths. He flicked a strand away from her forehead, and she mumbled something low and unintelligible.

  His fingers brushed the smooth arch of her brow. “Sweetheart, are you awake?”

  “No.”

  A hot rush of relief flooded him and he smiled. “Faker.”

  She opened her eyes and stared at him. “How long have I been sleeping?”

  “Probably not long enough. But while you’re awake, I want you to eat this.” He held up the bowl.

  “What is it?”

  “Soup. I brought it back with me from the guard station.”

  “You carried a bowl of soup across the desert? How’d you keep from spilling it?”

  “It was damn hard, believe me.” Emotion roughened his voice. Half an hour ago, he hadn’t been certain she would pull through and now they were joking. The moment felt bittersweet and surreal.

  “What do you mean by guard station? I thought you were going to the general’s base.”

  “So did I. There ended up being a change of plans.”

  Curiosity momentarily banished the deep exhaustion lining Rini’s face. “What happened?”

  “I’ll tell you—after you eat this.” He waggled the soup bowl in reminder, sloshing its contents.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Yes you are.”

  Her expression turned mulish. “What, you have a direct link to my stomach?”

  “Yep. And it let me know you need nourishment in order to get better.” He adjusted the lounger, raising her into a semi-reclining position.

  “Fine.” Looking extremely put out, she reached for the bowl and gasped. “Hey, I can move.”

  Thank you, Jesus. “Better let me feed you anyway. Otherwise you’ll end up slopping all over yourself.”

  Surprisingly she didn’t outright balk when he nudged the spoon against her lips, but he detected her slight hesitation as she inspected the utensil.

  “For God’s sake, woman, I washed it.”

  “With soap? Because if you only did a quick dunk and rinse…”

  Growling, he slipped the spoon inside her mouth. He got four scoopfuls down her before she insisted on talking again.

  “This stuff is pretty good. Where’d you say you got it again?”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “That was about as transparent as cling wrap.”

  “You promised.”

  “Yeah, I did. But you owe me at least four more bites.”

  “How about two?” She returned his stern look with a long, petulant exhale. “Three. It’s my final offer.”

  “Deal.” He fed her the agreed-upon spoonfuls, brimming the last one to nearly overflowing—a sneaky trick Rini caught on to, if her irate glare was any indication. Since she’d—mostly—behaved with minimal fuss, he filled her in on the exciting events of the past forty hours.

  “I can’t believe you boot-balled Sammer the Hammer’s cousin.” Rini’s eyes doubled in size. “Or that he wears leopard-print thongs. What do you think that’s all about?”

  “Babe, I really didn’t want to ask.”

  Her scrutiny moved to his hip. “Can I see the transmitter?”

  He dug inside his pocket and removed the tiny device. Rini plucked the object from his upturned palm, wistfulness softening her face. She cradled it with great care, almost as if she feared it’d disintegrate. “Do you think the signal will be strong enough for someone to find us?”

  No way would he be the dark cloud on her hopeful horizon. “Without a doubt.”

  Her smile dazzled to the point it almost hurt to stare directly at it. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in five days, eleven hours and twenty-two minutes.”

  “Been keeping track, have ya?”

  “I worried if I didn’t, time would become meaningless. Just a quaint concept from life…before.”

  He blinked. “Damn, that’s one heavy thought. Kind of makes my hidden fear about being separated from my visioncaster remote for the rest of my life seem pansy ass.”

  “Not necessarily. I hear you men are inordinately attached to your remotes.”

  Leaning close, he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Between you and me, I’ve been known to sleep with mine. If I could train it to spoon, we’d be a match made in heaven.”

  A drowsy chuckle escaped Rini, and he frowned at the fatigue starting to show renewed signs. “Speaking of sleep, I think we need to get you undressed and into my bed.” Realizing how awkward that sounded, he averted his gaze.

  “You’re blushing.”

  “Men don’t blush. It’s a sunburn. I’ve been roaming the desert for a day and half, for Christ’s sake. Things are bound to get fried.”

  “No, you’re definitely redder than you were a minute ago.”

  “Rini, zip it.” With that fierce warning issued, he picked her up and stalked down the corridor.

  During the middle of the night, anguished moans awakened Lucus from a light doze. Hurtling from the lounger, he ran to check on Rini. She writhed restlessly on the bed, the twisted sheet a mangled disaster around her waist.

  “Baby, what’s wrong?” When she didn’t answer, he stooped and touched her cheek. Her skin was roasting. Fuck. Panicked, he rushed to the galley and fetched the drinking jug and a couple clean rags. Returning to his sleeping port, he grabbed the glass resting on the overhead shelf and filled it partway. He tried to give Rini a sip but she thrashed wildly, making the water splash all over the place. Frustrated, he returned the glass to the shelf and soaked one of the rags. Prying her mouth open, he squeezed the cloth, wringing its moisture onto her tongue. She sputtered, forcing most of the water to dribble out.

  “Rini, you have to drink. You’re dehydrated and feverish.” He didn’t know why he felt compelled to state the obvious. Odds were good she was delirious and unaware of his presence. He re-soaked the rag and fought to get more water past her lips. By the time he finished, her face and hair—not to mention the pillow—were drenched.

  Weariness welled inside him. Recalling their earlier conversation regarding his fear of never holding his stupid remote again, he dropped his head. Rini was right. His whole life he avoided his real fears by making jokes instead. Well he had one big fucking fear staring him in the eye and no wisecrack would make it go away.

  He picked up the rag and mopped it across her brow. Murmuring gibberish, she groped for the trailing cloth.

  “Does that feel good? You want more?”

  She didn’t answer, of course, but he dipped the jug over the rag anyway, wetting it. He soothed her overheated skin with the cloth. When he reached the neckline of her tank top he pushed the fabric above her breasts and continued his ministrations. He pretended to ignore the way her nipples tightened when he swirled over their rosy-pink tips. Swallowing hard, he coasted towards her softly rounded belly. He dipped into her navel and tried not to think about the black lace bikini he’d gotten a brief glimpse of when he’d yanked her cargo pants off and helped her climb under the sheets.

  A raging fever racked the poor woman and he couldn’t get his mind off her panties. Talk about a sick fucker. Disgusted with himself, he lifted the rag. Rini clamped onto the cloth, her fingers twisting. Water oozed, splattering her
abdomen. She pulled his hand against her, tugged it lower. Lower. Way lower. When they reached the crotch of her bikini he had every intention of doing the right thing—mostly.

  Maybe he hesitated a second too long. Regardless, Rini decided to take the decision from him by rolling onto her side and trapping his hand between her thighs. Through the lace, he felt dampness that had nothing to do with the rag clutched in his grip.

  “Rini, I know you can’t hear me, but I need you to let go of my hand.”

  Rather than oblige, she rocked her hips in a sinuous glide that made sweat crawl down his spine. “Please. Need…”

  Oh hell. Praying she wouldn’t later despise him for what he was about to do, he shifted her onto her back and eased beneath the elastic of her panties. “Okay, baby. Let me help you.” His fingers encountered wet, hot flesh and he decided he should be nominated for sainthood for having the willpower not to climb between her legs and bury his cock to the hilt. He caressed her, the slick sound of her arousal making his blood pump straight towards his groin. With a little maneuvering, he found her clitoris. Having no idea how much speed or direct stimulation she preferred, he circled the nub with a light yet firm pressure. Her torso bowing off the bed, she dug a hand into the tangled sheet and howled in climax.

  Okay, apparently he got it right.

  Rini’s entire body went slack and she sagged onto the mattress. He wished he suffered the same problem with limpness. Exact opposite for him at the moment. Extracting his hand, he bent to kiss her cheek before exiting the port. Once outside, he dunked his head in the water bucket and prayed for sanity.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Rini didn’t show much improvement when morning came. Afternoon crept up on him fast and he abandoned her briefly to fill more of the drinking jugs. Digging into his pants pocket, he pulled out the transmitter. The green light remained on. So where the hell was the search and rescue ship? For all Lucus knew, Quarrel had a signal blocker orbiting the planet. Wouldn’t that be just their fucking luck?