Prime Imperative (The Prime Chronicles Book 3) (16 page)

BOOK: Prime Imperative (The Prime Chronicles Book 3)
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But she was worried. And then it hit him—she was treating the people’s injuries which had drawn her to the bar in the first place. She was in the jump station’s medica.

Brianna was safe and saving a life. He admired the strength of her dedication to her profession. His woman was both intelligent and compassionate, but naive about the dangers lurking outside her insular world of medicine, especially on this jump station. While the Erian was dead, he wasn’t the only predator in this place.

Concerned for her safety, he’d told her to go to her quarters. She’d deliberately ignored him. He’d read enough of Brianna’s thoughts prior to her blocking him to know she was used to taking care of herself.

That was before. Now, she had him to see to her well-being. She couldn’t just flit about, even to do her job, without having a care for her safety. His enemies would love to use Brianna to get to him—and by extension, to the Caradoc family.

At least her research could be performed in a highly secured environment on-planet. Unlike his brothers’ mates, who put their lives on the line as Alliance officers each and every time they left space dock, Brianna’s job was not inherently dangerous.
Thank the One.

He left Brianna’s quarters. The door creaked shut, the sound echoing loudly off the corridor walls. Another door opened down the hallway, and the man called Tomas poked his head out of the door. He nodded at Iolyn and smiled.

“Oh, it’s you. Bria’s in the medica. The injured man needed some laser surgery on a kidney. Our paramedic needed her assistance. I’ll show you the way,” Tomas offered.

“No, thank you. I can find her.”

And he planned on never losing her again. The concept was unacceptable.

Chapter 11

Jump Station Charybdis medica

“There, that should do it.” Bria set the surgical laser to the side after sealing the wound entrance. She turned to the paramedic who’d responded to the emergency in the holding area—an emergency that had resulted from the Erian’s escape. Darned lizards. “Clean him up. Then watch him for the next few hours. If his blood pressure stays up and he feels like it, release him with standard post-op instructions.”

“Yes, Doctor.” The paramedic programmed her instructions into the regen bed and started the palliative cycle to speed up the patient’s post-op recovery.

Now that her mind and body weren’t occupied by caring for her patients, the niggling sensation at the back of her brain came roaring to the front of her consciousness. It seemed to be separation anxiety from her
gemat
—Iolyn—she had to start thinking of him as Iolyn. She felt a strong urge pushing her to get back to his side. Her body ached for him. She wanted to see him, scent him, and most of all to touch him and be touched in return. She needed those sensory inputs as much as she needed her next breath.

She’d heard about these feelings, these urges, from Lia. She never expected them to be so uncomfortable, as if she’d die or go crazy without Iolyn by her side.

Preparing to seek her mate, Bria pulled off her disposable gloves. Then out of the blue, a whoop-whoop-whoop noise startled her. “What’s that?”

“An emergency code.” The paramedic checked his com unit. “They need me in the bar area.”

Someone was injured in the bar area? Fear struck Bria, and she opened her senses and let down her walls enough to touch Iolyn’s mind. He was uninjured and hunting for her. She breathed a sigh of relief.

“I have to go. I’m the primary medical until Borac and Damon find a doctor willing to work here.” Obviously torn, the paramedic looked at Siri and then at the male patient who was still unconscious. “Doctor…”

Bria needed to be with Iolyn, but the male patient also needed to be watched, as did Siri. Her training, her conscience, urged her to stay. The part of her that clamored for Iolyn’s nearness had subsided when she touched his mind and found he was seeking her. There was no doubt in her mind Iolyn would find her, even if he had to tear the jump station apart.

She could let him know her exact location, but that would be too easy. After the way he ordered her to go to her room like a little girl, instead of asking nicely and saying “please,” she didn’t want to make it easy. The man had to learn she was used to making her own decisions.

Plus, she would’ve come to the medica even if he’d asked nicely. A life had been at stake.

Bria turned to the paramedic. “Go on. I’ll stay here until you get back, or you send someone else.”

The paramedic smiled. “Thanks, Doctor.” He grabbed his medical kit and ran from the room as if a horde of Antareans were on his heels.

Bria turned back to the male patient. She programmed a change in his oxygen levels and then began to clean up the supplies used during the operation. Once the surgery was spic and span, she dictated her orders into the patient’s chart and electronically signed it.

With that chore done, she moved to check on Siri. As she reviewed the dancer’s vitals with one part of her brain, she recalled her first impressions of Iolyn with another.

Tall. Broad shoulders. Leanly muscled. Smelled like a forest in summer. Bossy. Over-protective. He was everything she’d expected—and more.

A sharp pang of intense desire threatened to take her to the floor.

Bria hunched over and hugged herself as the mark on her lower abdomen burned with a sharp, stabbing pain that mirrored a clenching in her core and the aching of her clit. Now, this was sexual desire—on steroids. She’d never lusted after any man before and had never imagined it could be this strong. That she’d be so needy.

And for the rest of her life this need, these urges, could only be assuaged by Iolyn’s touch.

Instinctively, she searched for the psychic path she’d sought during their first encounter, just a short while ago. She examined the connection. It was saturated with his scent…his voice.

The sensory memories soothed her, allowing her to unbend and take slow, calming breaths.

Now that she’d regained some semblance of control, noises in the corridor grabbed her attention. The squeaking of soft-soled shoes over metal floors made her cringe. The irritating noises approached the medica. There was also a clanking of metal on metal—weapons, someone had a lot of weapons jangling in harnesses.

Danger.
Some really bad men were headed her way—and Iolyn was nowhere near. He’d go ballistic that she’d placed herself—albeit inadvertently—in danger once again.

Bria shot into a state of hyper-awareness. Colors were suddenly brighter. Visual details more crisp. Every smell, sharper. Every small sound, louder. Her heart beat more rapidly, an erratic
drub, drub, drub
, as adrenaline and battle-mate hormones flooded her veins. Her well of primal energy surged through her, readying her for battle just as it had on the docks the day she’d arrived and in the barroom earlier.

She reached for the knife Huw had given her and then remembered—per standard protocol, her weapons were locked down in the medica’s changing area. Well, hell, if she’d suspected there’d be more trouble, she would’ve ignored the rules and remained armed.

Iolyn was too far away. There was no one else in the immediate area, other than the volatile males heading her way. She began to assess her situation.

The surgery had only one exit, and it led into the medica, where she saw two men enter the waiting area. She was trapped. And even if she hadn’t been, she wouldn’t have run. Siri and her rescuer were unconscious and helpless.

The two men stood in the waiting area and watched her like the patient predators they were. Their fixed stares and ugly smiles chilled her skin and raised the hairs on her neck. They definitely weren’t here seeking medical care. If their expressions and the aura of danger around them hadn’t convinced her, the fact they weren’t bleeding and looked fit and strong would’ve. They were also armed to the teeth with knives, battle-blades, and laser weapons. Their clothing was a mixture of less-than-clean flight uniforms from several different freighter companies. The skin that wasn’t covered by hair was decorated in scars, tattoos, and piercings.

The only conclusion? The two were either mercenaries or pirates. It didn’t really matter which—they were bad news.

A pregnant silence settled like a lead blanket over the medica.

Bria struggled to handle her fear of the men and the flood of fight-or-flight hormones. Her heartbeat was so rapid she was sure she’d have internal bruises on her chest wall. If she didn’t get her breathing under control, she’d either hyperventilate or have a heart attack. Already, her vision dimmed as blackness edged in from the side and streaks of white and yellow dots floated across her visual field.

How in the hell did battle-mates deal with all the stress hormones?

Then she knew.

Bria dug deeply into her energy reserves and found the necessary strength to rein in her breathing. She heaved a silent sigh of relief as her senses once again tuned in to her surroundings.

During her slight panic attack, the two men had moved closer. Much too close.

Weapon. She needed a weapon. Anything sharp or lethal would do.

Without taking her eyes off the men, Bria backed away, slowly, until her bottom hit the surgical laser array she’d shoved against the wall. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead and back, sending chill bumps over her skin.

Sweat, she couldn’t control, but she could present a calm face to the enemy—and stall until Iolyn came for her.

One man—she’d call him Asshat—turned to the other—he’d be Rat Bastard—and muttered something she couldn’t quite hear. Rat Bastard retreated to cover the medica’s main entrance as Asshat moved to the surgery doorway where he stopped and glanced around the suddenly claustrophobic room.

Her throat tightened as her fear of being trapped in a small place won over reason and took control of her mind. A scream rose in her throat which she managed to cut off until all that came out was a strangled gasp.

Asshat smirked, and his dark eyes lit with an unholy gleam at the sound.

Show no fear—and breathe.

She forced herself to take one deep breath, then another as Asshat remained ominously silent and motionless except for his hawk-like gaze which quartered the room.

His stillness was scarier than if he’d spoken or lunged at her.

Bria practically vibrated with the need to do something, anything, to end the standoff.

Once again she was relegated to playing defense, to out-waiting her nemesis, letting him make the first move and hoping he’d make a fatal mistake to give her an advantage.

Asshat and Rat Bastard had already made one huge mistake—they’d given her an opportunity to succeed by dividing themselves.

The seconds ticked by in slow motion. Not that much time had passed since the men had appeared in the medica, but it seemed like forever.

Iolyn was coming. The knowledge was her lifeline. With any luck, he’d arrive before the men made their move—whatever in the hell it was.

Then Asshat grinned, showing unusually bright white teeth against his swarthy beard scruff. The predator knew he scared her. He got off on it.

Bastard!
She’d had e-fucking-nough.

Empowering anger swept through her like the wind before a storm. She’d had her fill of big scary men intimidating her…finding her amusing. She didn’t need this…this crap. And she wasn’t going to wait to be saved. She’d save her own damn self.

Bria stared at Asshat while checking that Rat Bastard was still at the outer entrance. He was, and, oh lucky day, his back was to the surgery. Yet, he was still mere steps away.

Weakening doubt crept in once more. Two, large, heavily armed males could break her into little pieces without breaking a sweat. She shuddered as she heard bones breaking in her head.

Then she recalled Nadia’s words about drawing on her mate’s power. Maybe Iolyn didn’t have to be in the room to help her.

Bria dropped her mental shields and sought the psychic connection she’d visualized earlier and tugged it.

Brianna? You’re frightened. What’s wrong?

Instantly a surge of masculine power swept across the connection, adding his strength to her own. She was still angry
and
scared. But she wasn’t alone any longer.

Come to the medica. I need some backup.

I’m already on my way. What’s wrong? Open to me fully.

Bria dropped the partial shields she hadn’t even realized she’d kept up.

Iolyn swept in and took in the situation. His growl sent shivers down her spine and made her smile, which wiped the smile off Asshat’s face.

As you can see, I’m stalling. But not sure that will last much longer.

How many total?

Two. Heavily armed.

Keep stalling.

I’ll try.

Try harder.
Her mental snort elicited another growl from her
gemat.
Stall, my
cwen.

Bria shrugged and slammed up her shields. She didn’t need the distraction of Iolyn’s worries—or his bossiness.

She stared fiercely at Asshat. “What do you want?” She was proud her voice was calm and strong, showing none of her inner turmoil. Her gaze moved over the man and zeroed in first on his hands, then his expression and posture.

Asshat was relaxed at the moment, not threatened by her at all.

Good.
Asshat’s guard and that of Rat Bastard would be down. They wouldn’t expect her—a woman and a doctor—to defend herself.

“You’re coming with us.” Asshat took a step into the small surgery.

The room seemed even smaller. The air became thicker, more suffocating.

Bria said—did—nothing in response to his provocative move.

“Did you hear me, woman?” Asshat took another step toward her and held out a large, dirty-looking hand. “Come. We’re leaving. I don’t want to hurt you. You’re worth more alive and undamaged.”

Playing dumb, Bria said, “I can’t leave. I have patients.” She gestured toward the regen beds.

Asshat’s gaze shifted toward the two patients. As his attention was diverted elsewhere, Bria reached behind her, feeling for the surgical laser. She grabbed it. Surgical lasers could do a lot of damage to a body, especially thin-skinned hominids like Asshat.

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