He took the lead. Not far into the tunnel, he heard voices. The poachers were not even trying to hide their presence. Signaling for Kaos to follow, he crept forward. The uneven walls and reinforcing pillars that lined the tunnel provided cover.
Light flickered ahead at a juncture.
Using the scope on his rifle, he assessed his quarry. A group of five males, armed, sat without cover. Two figures huddled in the back. Correction, one huddled. The other moved forward, into the light. While the scent of stagnant water hid her scent, light glinted off the glass of her spectacles. Her pale beige face shone in the darkness.
Thalia.
Thalia
So, this sucked.
After being stripped—what was it with the bad guys always getting her clothes off?—and dragged off the ship, Thalia stopped fighting. She’d be a good little hostage.
Her captors took her to an underground tunnel. Water dripped somewhere in the black depths. A little camp had been organized around a brazier of burning coals that cast deep shadows. Her captors appeared to be waiting for someone.
Very atmospheric. Very post-apocalyptic.
Thalia joined Mais. With their hands and feet bound with plastic ties, they had nothing better to do than watch. Correction, Thalia watched. Mais drifted in and out of consciousness.
Pressing the back of her hand to Mais’ forehead, Thalia realized that she had no idea if the woman ran a fever or not. Havik always felt warm. Mais felt warm. Was that normal?
In the flickering light, the woman did not look well. Blood matted her hair at the temple.
“Hold on. Havik will find us,” Thalia whispered. Mais nodded, her eyes glassy.
“Can we have some water?” Thalia asked.
The closest man jabbed the point of a pistol into her chest. “Quiet, Terran.”
She immediately held up her hands in surrender. “She needs water.” Then, for good measure, “I need to pee.”
“I do not care.”
“Okay, I’ll just pee myself then. I’m sure that’s cool and the smell won’t bother you. Or the puddle won’t trickle over to you. There is a slope, though, so you’ll probably get the runoff. But you don’t care.”
“Female, cease your prattle. Go into the corner,” the guard snapped. The others around the fire snickered, but one man did shuffle forward with a canteen.
“Here. Drink.” He offered the canteen to Mais, eyes down like he was scared to look at her. Or ashamed.
Interesting.
Mais hesitated before accepting the canister. There was a spark of recognition. Thalia didn’t fall victim to random bad guys. They knew Mais. Respected her, even, or her position as warlord’s mate. But they were unafraid.
Thalia teased it out, her mind churning slower than usual because she really did need water. With nothing to protect her skin, she felt roasted by the sun. Despite being underground, the temperature was still slightly south of boiling. The water—a spring?—added enough humidity to make her hair frizzy. Focusing her misery on how she felt parched and moist all at once distracted her from freaking about radiation.
Doc’s survivalist handbooks didn’t cover much about radiation sickness other than it’s a horrible way to die and the affected person should make their peace. So, she was thirsty, covered in a nasty sunburn with frizzy hair in what was essentially a steam tunnel. Anyone would be distracted.
Their captors were part of the clan and not a breakaway faction. They were waiting for the warlord. This was a setup.
Well, fuck.
“I really do have to pee,” Thalia said.
The man closest to her grumbled, the light from the brazier shifting across his red face. The man who gave them water said, “Just go in the back and don’t make trouble. There’s five of us to one of you.”
Thalia pulled her shoulders in and tucked her chin down, making herself as small as possible. She never hesitated to use her slight stature in her favor. “My hands? I can’t pull down my…you know.”
The grumbling man lurched to his feet and grabbed Thalia, dragging her upright. A utility knife slashed through the plastic ties at her wrist, then at her feet. “No trouble,” he warned.
“None.” She crossed her heart and batted her eyes.
“What is wrong with your eyes?”
“Nothing. Dust,” she said, swiping with one hand. The other hand went behind her back.
As she passed Mais, she took a long drink from the water canister. With her thirst quenched, she passed it back carefully. They couldn’t afford to spill a drop. Mais fumbled as she accepted the canister.
The tunnel ended abruptly with a pile of rubble from a long-ago collapse. Very aware that every splash echoed, Thalia spat out her mouthful of water. She really couldn’t pee on command. Call it performance anxiety.
With her business completed, she placidly held out her hands to be bound again.
Havik better find them soon. She wasn’t sure how long she could keep the five idiots distracted.
Havik
“What is this?” Havik said. In an instant, he took in the situation. Thalia and Mais were bound. The poachers were not strangers, but the males who Kaos had sent to track the poachers.
The honorless curs sprang to their feet and pointed their weapons at the females.
Havik remained still, his hand held up in surrender. Whatever plot Kaos crafted, he wanted to end it and never return to this cursed planet. He loved the brutal beauty of the desert and the wildness of the northern seas. He had found solace walking under the stars. He loved his home world, but Kaos poisoned everything he touched. The bitter old male ruined an entire planet.
“You have many flaws, son, but you are not dumb. You know what this is,” Kaos said. He snapped his fingers and one of the warriors dragged Thalia forward.
His heart lurched at the sight of his mate stripped of her armor. They underestimated his mate if they thought removing garments would break her spirit. She fought, kicking her unshod feet, and
