Polaris Rising (Consortium Rebellion, #1)(13)

A few seconds later, the footsteps slowed, then stopped. For a brief moment, the ship seemed to hold its breath. Then the hallway erupted in blaster fire and curses.

A high-pitched scream from down the right hallway proved that at least one shot had found its target. The left hall reverberated with another round of blaster fire until it abruptly cut off with a scream.

“Oh God, oh God, oh please, oh God.” The soft, moaned litany came from the right hallway. It was hard to tell with my ears ringing from the blaster fire, but it sounded like the kid, Chuck. Had he been shot? I pushed myself up, even though I knew looking would do no good. It was still dark as pitch.

Warm, wet hands gripped my wrists and pulled me headfirst out of the access panel. I flailed, trying to find something to anchor my feet before I broke my neck on the floor. The hands shifted to my waist and hauled me down and forward.

I went for the knife in my back pocket.

“While I do love to watch a woman with a blade,” Loch drawled as he set me on my feet, “we need to move.”

“You could’ve warned me that it was you,” I hissed.

“Now where’s the fun in that?”

I huffed at him and tried to move right, only to be blocked by his arm. “I think I heard Chuck. We need to see if he’s okay,” I said.

“He’s dead.”

I paused. I could still hear the kid moaning. “It seems your definition of dead and mine aren’t the same,” I said, trying again to push past him.

“Trust me, he’s dead, he just doesn’t know it yet.”

“But—” A shoulder in my abdomen prevented me from continuing. Loch lifted me so that my torso hung down his back. He clamped a hand around my legs and took off at a quick jog.

I wrapped my arms around his waist to keep my upper body from flopping around. “What happened to the rifles?” I asked when I realized they should’ve been bashing me in the face.

“I left them in the cell,” he said. “Too much trouble to hump them through the access tunnels.”

Clearly, my observational skills were on point in the dark.

We lurched sideways with a loud curse from Loch. An energy bolt passed close enough that I could feel its heat. The world spun and jostled as Loch moved quickly. He stopped and dumped me off of his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I hit hard on my left side. Pain lanced up my arm, intense enough to bring tears to my eyes.

“You said there were eight soldiers,” Loch snarled in my ear.

“There were eight!”

“Now there are eleven. And three of them are between us and the ship. And no doubt calling for backup.” He pulled the pistol from my holster. “Don’t die.” His presence faded.

“Lady von Hasenberg,” an unfamiliar male voice called, “Lord Rockhurst sent us to rescue you. Are you well?”

“No, I am very much not well, you idiot,” I muttered under my breath. Louder, I called back, “How do I know you are Richard’s troops and not more mercs trying to steal me for the bounty?”

“Are you alone?”

“I have no idea. My abductor dropped me here. I think he broke my arm. I cannot see anything.”

A light clicked on in the distance, as bright as a dying star. I could see the door to the room outlined against the light, as well as make out the dark, bulky shapes surrounding me. My mental map had failed after Loch’s dash through the cargo bays, but this looked like a storage room.

The light drew closer. I curled up and cradled my left arm. I let the tears fall down my cheeks. It wasn’t really acting because my arm hurt like the devil. I didn’t think it was broken, but I had no doubt that the bruising would be epic.

The light bobbed into the room. They’d sent a video drone—I could hear the low whir of its motor. I shielded my eyes as they adjusted. The blocky shapes in the room resolved themselves into storage containers. Loch had dumped me on top of a waist-high container, and I’d landed on the latch bar with my arm.

I pushed myself up with a groan. This was not how I’d planned for today to go.

The drone floated around the room. The soldiers must’ve been satisfied with whatever they saw on the video because a few seconds later, two big men in combat armor entered, guns first. They swept the room before coming over to me. One kept lookout while the other attempted to pick me up.

I slapped away his hands. “I have had enough of being carted around like so much baggage,” I said in my iciest voice. “My legs are perfectly functional.”

He backed up with a murmured “Yes, my lady.”

I slid off the container and almost made a liar of myself when my left knee buckled. I fell into the soldier I’d just yelled at. Fantastic. My high-and-mighty, untouchable lady routine was certainly off to a good start. He held my arm until I’d regained my balance then let go without a word.

“I need a light stick,” I said. “I cannot see anything.”

“My lady,” he started. I hit him with my mother’s favorite expression. He reluctantly pulled a short light stick out of a cargo pocket and handed it to me.

I clicked it on and the room became clearer. “Thank you,” I said.

With only one soldier between him and freedom, I assumed Loch was already on his way to the escape ship while I served as a distraction for these two. I had a knife, but the odds were better that I’d stab myself than do any damage to two trained—and armored—soldiers. I was a decent shot because shooting guns was fun; knife lessons were grueling, dangerous, and best avoided whenever possible.