Heart of Eon: Eon Warriors #3

by Hackett, Anna

  For decades after first contact, the Eon had believed that the Terrans of Earth were inferior. Lacking both intelligence and discipline.

  The Traynor sisters were changing that viewpoint.

  He watched his engineers scrambling, swiping at their screens.

  “Where is she?” he asked his security commander.

  Sabin Solann-Ath’s eyes were almost all black, with only a few threads of purple. The stoic warrior had a sense of stillness that always made Malax think of a predator hunting prey.

  Sabin shook his head. “She has to be close to the engine room.”

  Another security team member nodded. “I’ve got a rough location. It’s not exact, but she’s definitely bow-side of the engine room. In the maintenance conduits.”

  Malax swiveled, running out the door of the bridge. His boots thudded on the black metal floor as he powered down the corridor. He ignored the turbo lift—he didn’t want to chance his little hijacker trapping him in there. Instead, he took an access ladder down to the engine-room level.

  When he burst into the engine room, his engineering team looked up at him with startled looks on their faces.

  Ignoring them, he pushed toward the far wall of the engine room. He heard and felt the engines hit max capacity. But Malax had been on starships his entire life, and the increased speed barely affected his balance. His gaze honed in on the wall.

  She was in there. Somewhere. Where was she taking them?

  He had to convince the woman that they were now on the same side, before some enterprising enemy saw the Rengard drifting around and acting erratically, and decided she’d make easy prey.

  He scanned the wall, and his gaze fell on the cover for a maintenance conduit. He strode over to it, and one of the young engineering warriors nearby straightened.

  “War commander—”

  Malax barged past the man. He gripped the conduit cover and wrenched it off. Behind it was a narrow, horizontal tunnel, far too small for him to enter. In these small conduits, they had autonomous bots that carried out the necessary maintenance. He bent and peered inside. His pulse jumped.

  He spotted her at the end of the tunnel. Startled, her head shot up. She ripped her tablet out of a connection on the wall.

  Then, the brazen little Terran lifted a hand and waved at him. “Hey there, WC.”

  “Wren Traynor. I don’t suppose you’ll hand yourself over to me?”

  She tossed her mass of curly hair back over her shoulder, then tapped a finger against her jaw. “Um…no.”

  He looked back at the young engineer hovering nearby. “Get a laser cutter here. Now.”

  The man hurried away.

  When Malax looked back, Wren was smiling at him.

  “You look as grumpy in real life as you sound in your messages.”

  And she looked more beautiful than he’d imagined. The thought made him curse in his head. He scowled at her. “You have—”

  Suddenly, the ship jerked to a rapid halt. Malax was almost knocked off his feet, and slammed his palms against the wall to stay upright.

  His team had managed to shut down the star drives.

  At the end of the conduit tunnel, he saw Wren tumble over. Her head smacked against the wall.

  “Wren!”

  She held a hand to her head and looked dazed.

  “Wren!”

  She rubbed her temple. “I’m okay. Looks like you guys shut me down again.”

  The engineer returned, holding a set of laser cutters. Malax waved him forward, and the man flicked the tool on. A blue flame shot out the end of the long device. He started cutting into the wall.

  Wren’s lips quirked. “Looks like it’s time for me to go. By the way, while I was in your system, I found that it is waaaaay too easy to hack into your navigation systems. That would be bad if you had enemies aboard.”

  “You aren’t an enemy?”

  She winked. “Nope. Otherwise I would have ejected you and your warriors into space days ago. Anyway, you might want to plug that hole before somebody not as nice as me finds it.”

  Malax wanted to get his hands on her and drag her out of there. He leaned in. “Wren—”

  She lifted her palm and blew Malax a kiss.

  Then she slid out of view. Gone.

  He thumped a fist into the wall, making the young engineer jump.

  “Don’t bother with the cutters,” Malax said. “Set up surveillance in these tunnels to make sure she can’t get back in.”

  The engineer nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  Malax swiveled and strode out of the engine room. When he made it back to the bridge, he started barking orders. All around, his warriors stared at him from their consoles.

  “Airen, get a team to check the navigation system for any weaknesses.”

  His second frowned. “Why?”

  “Wren said she found a problem.”

  “And you trust her?”

  “Just check it.”

  Airen nodded. “On it.”

  “Sabin, find that Terran.”

  Sabin’s cool face hardened. “We’ll find her. She will regret her course of action.”

  Malax stared at his security commander. “She is not to be harmed.”

  Sabin frowned. “Sir—”

  “That’s an order, Sabin.”

  The warrior released a breath and nodded, then stalked out of Malax’s office.

  Malax dropped into his chair, turning to stare out the window. If this kept up, his second and security command would stage a mutiny.

  Where was Wren now? He knew she had to be running out of food, and they’d been carefully monitoring the ship’s supplies.

  When she’d first hijacked his ship, she’d been an enemy. One that he’d wanted to neutralize.

  Now he knew she wasn’t the enemy, just a misguided sister trying to take care of her family and save her planet. Malax understood the driving need to protect those you cared about.

  But he wanted his ship back, and he needed Wren Traynor contained before she hurt herself.

  Airen appeared in the doorway. Her toned arms were bare, her hair still in a braid, and he found himself thinking of Wren’s differences—her wild curls and curvy body.

  “She was right,” Airen said. “We found a security gap in the navigation system.”

  Malax pulled in a breath. “Fix it. Airen, any signs of unfriendlies on long-range scans?”

  “Nothing yet.” Airen’s lips firmed. “But we’ve been lucky no one’s targeted the Rengard yet. We’re far from Eon space, flying erratically, sometimes stopped. Someone’s going to notice.”

  That’s what Malax was afraid of. And he was responsible for the lives of every warrior on board, and for the advanced, top-secret tech onboard.

  As his second left, he looked out of the window again. One small woman had evaded his entire crew for days. What the cren was he going to do about Wren Traynor?

  * * *

  Wren found another spot to tap back into the Rengard’s systems. It was masked by some low-level energy signatures from the engine room. But despite her best efforts, she couldn’t bring the star drives back online.

  Crapola. She slammed her tablet against her knees and wrinkled her nose. Dann-Jad had some good people on his team. When she’d headed off on this mission, she’d made the assumption that Eon warriors were all brawn, hard muscles, and handsome faces. And at first, she’d thought they looked identical too—similar rugged features, brown hair, mostly black eyes with filaments of color.

  Then she thought of the war commander’s face and her pulse jumped.

  He seemed a little more handsome, his cheekbones a little sharper, his hair a shade darker. Sex on a stick.

  She scrubbed a hand over her eyes. God, what was it with her and handsome men? Lance, the dastardly cheating ex, had been model handsome. As the owner of a gym, he’d worked out all the time, had the body of a god…and liked to screw tight-bodied, yoga instructors in the backroom.

  Bastard. Anyway, s
he so should not be lusting over a man right now. Especially not the one who wanted to wring her neck and probably toss her out an airlock.

  And especially not when she smelled so bad. She sniffed herself and shook her head.

  Well, she had no star drives…so, she needed another plan of attack.

  Then a thought hit her. She smiled. The war commander would be busy in his office off the bridge for the next few hours. She’d made a habit of noting his movements, and the man was a workaholic.

  If he was busy, she was going to have a shower.

  Wren climbed through the vents, heading upward toward the ship’s cabins. She checked her schematics a few times. When this was over, she was going to have an extremely accurate layout of all the Rengard’s vents and conduits.

  Huffing a little, she neared the upper levels. Then her tablet beeped.

  Pausing, she frowned. There was a super-weird energy signature coming from right beside her. She studied the conduit layout, and realized there was a small room in there. Hmm. She couldn’t see a way into the space.

  What were the Eon hiding in there? The energy signature didn’t appear to be dangerous. She shrugged. Regardless of what it was, this could be a good little hidey-hole for her. The warriors were getting way too close to the small space that she’d used as a home base for the last few days.

  Wren tapped her screen and made a note.

  But right now, she only had one priority. She kept crawling, and finally moved down a horizontal vent duct. She stopped, checked her tablet, and smiled.

  Running her fingers over the panels, she pried one open and looked down. Into a large, neat cabin. Perfect.

  Wren slipped her legs through the hole, gripping the edge. Hmm, climbing down into the cabin wasn’t quite as easy as she imagined. She felt one of the panels bow under her weight. Dammit, these vent tunnels weren’t built to hold much weight.

  Eve and Lara would leap down athletically, like a panther or something. Or maybe they’d somersault in, like a…somersaulter. Was somersaulter even a word?

  With a roll of her eyes, Wren lowered herself down, her legs dangling ungracefully and her arms burning. Then her hand slipped and she fell. Shit. She dropped the last meter and a half, and smacked onto the floor.

  “Oof.” She turned onto her back, the wind knocked out of her. She stared up at the hole she’d just fallen through. Yep, so not like her sisters.

  She sat up and glanced around. Damn, War Commander Dann-Jad had a nice cabin.

  It was spacious for a warship, and orderly, of course. She was pretty sure that man wouldn’t let anything in his life get out of order. There were no personal touches, and the bed was neatly made.

  Rising, she unrepentantly snooped around. She pulled open drawers and looked in the closet. It was filled with massive, warrior-sized uniforms. They were all black, and hung with military precision. She stroked the cover on his bed and tested his pillows. Nice. She expected them to be rock-hard, but they were soft. A nice fragrance hit her. A woodsy scent, with a touch of crisp citrus. She realized it was the war commander’s scent and dropped the pillow.

  Okay, enough snooping. Shower.

  She made her way to the adjacent washroom and almost moaned. It wasn’t big, but Wren would stand naked in a crocodile-infested river if it meant she could get clean. She set her tablet down and stripped off her smelly clothes, and this time she did moan. She spotted a clothes cleaner on the wall and opened the drawer. She shoved the high-tech spacesuit Space Corp had given her and her panties inside. Hopefully, the Eon tech would work on her clothes and not destroy them.

  Once the clothes cleaner was operational, she stepped into the shower stall. When she turned on the shower, her belly fluttered. Warm, misty water hit her.

  Now she groaned, long and loud. She didn’t care that the shower had a water-saving device that made it more mist than actual water. She used the war commander’s liquid soap, which unsurprisingly smelled like his pillow. She washed her hair twice, then scrubbed her skin all over.

  For a second, she imagined the war commander in the stall. Naked. Water running over his dark-bronze skin. His big shoulders taking up all the space.

  A shiver went through her.

  Now is not the time, Wren. Reluctantly, she turned the water off, and then grabbed a giant, warrior-sized, drying cloth. She rubbed herself down, then wrapped the cloth around herself several times.

  She let out a long breath. Clean. It felt so damn good.

  Moving over to the clothes cleaner, she saw the cycle was almost finished. Idly, she picked up her tablet.

  And squeaked.

  Dann-Jad’s signature was moving. Toward his cabin.

  Shit, shititty, shit.

  She yanked open the unfinished clothes cleaner and pulled her spacesuit out.

  The fabric was still hot. “Ouch, ouch.”

  She flapped the suit to cool it off. Where were her panties? Screw it. No time. She shoved her leg into the spacesuit. Hopping from one foot to the other, she got it up to her hips, where it got tight.

  Ugh. She shimmied and wriggled. The fabric finally moved upward and she slipped her arms in. As she did up the central fastening, she was grateful it had a built-in bra support. She had no desire for her girls to be on the loose. She shoved her feet back into her boots.

  She glanced at her tablet and her stomach clenched. Oh, God, he was almost there.

  She raced back into the cabin. When she looked up at the hole in the ceiling, she realized she had no idea how the hell she was going to get back up there.

  Think, Wren, think. She leaped onto Malax’s bed and bounced a few times.

  Taking a deep breath, she bounced and leaped for the hole.

  Her fingers brushed the edge but she missed. She landed back on the war commander’s bed on her knees.

  With a curse, she rose. The bed covers were in complete disarray. Sorry, WC. She eyed the hole again. With a huge bounce, she managed to catch the edge. Yes! Heaving and straining, she pulled herself upward…and managed to donk her forehead on the edge.

  Ow. Ignoring the bump, she climbed into the vent tunnel, just as she heard the cabin door chime below.

  Shit. Quickly, she shoved the cover over the vent hole. Then she lay there, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it was about to burst out of her chest.

  She heard heavy footsteps below.

  Wren bit her lip. That was close. Too close.

  Then she heard a deep, muffled curse.

  She grinned. He was probably taking in his wrecked bed.

  A groaning sound. Like metal moving on metal. What? Then the cover beneath Wren gave way, and with a cry, she fell.

  Chapter Three

  Ceiling panels rained down on Malax’s head. Then he heard a startled cry.

  The next second, he caught a small, curvy female in his arms, and he looked into pretty blue eyes.

  Wren’s eyes widened and then, without warning, she pulled her fist back and punched him in the face.

  Cren. As pain exploded through Malax’s nose, his arms loosened, and he dropped her.

  Her feet hit the floor and she scuttled away, rounding the bed to put it between them.

  Malax took in both her and his cabin. The bed covers were mussed, and he saw a wet drying cloth in a pile near his washroom door.

  He’d been trying to find her for days, and here she was in his cabin. Apparently…bathing?

  “Stay back, War Commander.” She held up a tablet and brandished it like a weapon.

  “Oh, no.” He shook his head. “Now that I have you, I’m not letting you get away.”

  “Remember, none of this is personal. Me hijacking your warship…it isn’t what I wanted to do. My sisters—”

  “Are safe. And both of them are happily mated to Eon warriors.”

  Wren’s eyes bugged out of her head. “What?” Her voice turned to a screech.

  “Eve mated with Davion, War Commander Thann-Eon.”

  Wren looked at Malax for a sec
ond, blinked, then bent over laughing. She laughed so hard that tears tracked down her cheeks.

  “Wow, you’re a terrible liar,” she said.

  Frustration welled in Malax’s chest. “I’m not lying.”

  “Whoa.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “I can feel the emotion pumping off you.”

  “Yes. My helian amplifies my emotions.”

  Her gaze dropped to the thick band around his wrist that housed his symbiont. Then she shook her head. “Look, there is no way that my sister Eve is mated to an Eon warrior.” She shook her head. “Nuh-uh. Not possible.”

  “And Lara, as well,” he continued.

  More laughing. He even heard her snort. “Lara is back on Earth.”

  “No. Space Corps sent her into Eon space to try and steal our sacred gems. She mated with the warrior sent to track her down.”

  Wren laughed harder.

  Malax tapped his boot on the floor and crossed his arms over his chest. As she laughed, he let his gaze drift over her. He’d seen pictures of her, but it hadn’t quite prepared him for the full impact of her curvy body in her tight, black-and-white spacesuit. Or the abundance of curls still drying around her shoulders.

  “Wren, return control of my ship to me.”

  She blew out a breath, putting her hands on her hips. “I can’t.”

  “Our planets have an alliance. I have transmissions from your sisters—”

  “Transmissions can be faked.”

  He growled. How the cren could he get through to her? “You’re putting everyone on this ship at risk. My warriors only have limited control of the ship’s systems, including weapons. If we come across any enemies…” He let that thought hang.

  She swallowed. “And my entire planet, not to mention the two people I love most, are in danger. I can’t, I’m sorry.”

  “I am, too.” Malax lunged for her.

  But she was quick. She darted to the left, then leaped onto his bed, running across it. On the other side she grabbed his small bedside lamp, unclicked it from the latch holding it to the table, and threw it at him.

  As he ducked, she raced for the door. He leaped over the bed and cut her off. She dodged to the right, her hip smacking into his built-in desk. She grabbed a small box from the desk and tossed it at him. He caught it and threw it aside.