Queen of Swords (16 page)

They nodded and took off, leaving her alone with Shadrach and the Beshmaiite. They moved down the stairs as a group, meeting no one. It was darker here, the alarms softer, as if they were reluctant to break the eerie quiet.

Ophelia double-checked the charge on her laser. She had another six shots, maybe seven, on this cartridge. Then she was down to her knives. Shit. While she was far better with knives, no one from Sanctify was going to stand still long enough for her to stab them. She should have packed more lasers.

The hall never branched, finally ending at a huge metal door. The palm lock on the side shone a glaring red, seeming to mock Ophelia’s need to see what the room held. She cursed, debating whether firing on it would open the door or lock the room forever.

Shadrach tapped her shoulder, dancing out of the way when she swung on him. Ophelia pushed her hair out of her eyes. “Sorry. I’m jumpy.”

The Beshmaiite made that bizarre coughing sound again, dark eyes watching as the man’s hands flew through a series of signs. “He says if you can give him five minutes, he can hack it.”

“Do it.” She looked back at the door, painfully aware of just how trapped they were. The only way out was the way they’d come in. All Sanctify had to do was hang out at the top of the stairs and pick them off as they tried to leave. She bit back a scream of frustration and turned to the Beshmaiite. “Any bright ideas?”

He shrugged, a fluid movement that would be impossible on human shoulders. “Save Boone and escape with our lives intact.”

“Yeah, that was my plan too.” She used the back of her hand to wipe the sweat beading along her forehead. It wasn’t hot down here—in fact, it was more than a little chilly—which meant the stress was getting to her. Not a good sign. “You got a name?”

“Cole. And you’re Ophelia.”

Boone
had
been talking about her. Ophelia shrugged, unable to quell the warmth spreading through her at the thought. She’d deal with it later, like so many other things.

The palm lock flashed green, and Shadrach scrambled out of the way. The last thing Ophelia saw before Cole grabbed the back of her neck and shoved her to the ground was the door sliding open and three men with lasers opening fire on the hallway.

Chapter Eighteen

All she could see was Cole’s fur. And, as pretty as it was, Ophelia couldn’t shoot without hitting him. “Get off me!”

He grunted something she couldn’t understand over the whizzing laser fire and moved his arm so she could see. Sort of. There were two dead men on the ground just inside the door, both in white robes. A third, dressed in the blood-red robes of a priest, crouched behind a table, a huge dagger against Boone’s throat. And Boone…
oh Lady
. He was naked, every inch of his tanned skin covered in blood. There was too much for her to see the wounds, too much to tell if he’d live or not.

Something snapped inside Ophelia, a cold, hungry place opening up inside her. She shoved the Beshmaiite off and climbed to her knees, never taking her eyes from the priest threatening Boone. “You will not harm him.”

The man flinched, the dagger cutting into Boone’s neck. “Stay back or I finish what we started!”

“No, you won’t.” Ophelia raised her laser but, before she had a chance to pull the trigger, the top of the priest’s head disappeared, laser fire instantly cauterizing the wound. Not waiting for the body to drop, she jumped to her feet and sprinted into the room, sliding through a pool of blood. “Boone!”

The only indication he still lived was the rise and fall of his chest. She reached out but stopped, terrified to cause him more pain. Cole, apparently, had no such problem. He shouldered her aside. “We have to go.” The laser in his clawed hand blinked, still recharging. Thank the Lady he was a better shot than she was.

Yes. They couldn’t stay here. Ophelia took a step back and shook her head, trying to get her brain in gear again. It was no use. All she wanted to do was kill every member of Sanctify, to make them suffer like they’d made Boone suffer. When she looked up again, Cole had Boone in his arms. He would be useless in a fight, but it didn’t matter. She would protect them. “Stay behind me.”

She turned on her heel and stalked out of the room, only pausing long enough to let Shadrach take the lead. Ophelia might be pissed but she wasn’t suicidal. He was better with a laser than she was, so he would take the lead. Simple.

They met Jenny at the fork in the hallway near the exit. The other woman took one look at her brother and her face fell into a perfectly blank mask, so damn similar to the one Papa wore that Ophelia shivered.

“Let’s go.” Jenny leaned around her and shot a man cowering under the desk. “Now.”

They got out the doors before anyone appeared, but men began pouring from the building behind them almost immediately. Five, seven, ten. Too many.

Psyche
was close, but
The Dutchman
was closer. “We have to go to my ship.”

“Your
what
?” Jenny looked at her like Ophelia had lost her mind. Maybe she had.

There wasn’t time to explain, but Jenny obviously wasn’t going anywhere without
something
. “Sanctify took my ship, converted it. It’s bigger, better med bay, antimatter gun.”

“Antimatter-what?” Jenny shook her head. “Nevermind.” She fired two shots, taking out one of the men following. “Lead the way.”

The ramp was down and hatch open, waiting for them. Ophelia shoved Cole up the ramp, firing wildly behind her. She already knew she wouldn’t hit anything, but at least she could keep the monsters pinned down while they got to safety. “Jenny, get your ass up here.”

She did, taking out another man. Eight left.

The hatch slid shut behind them, closing off the sound of laser fire and settling into an eerie calm. Ophelia realized they were waiting for her lead. “Med bay is on the second deck, bridge on the first.”

“Done.” Cole was off, his tail trailing behind him.

Jenny flicked on her wrist unit. “Hadriel, get
Psyche
off the ground. We’ll distract them and draw their fire. Rendezvous when we’re clear.
Go
.” She ended the call and looked up. “Help Cole get my brother strapped in while I get us off this shithole of a planet.”

Ophelia nodded, running for the nearest stairway, her shoes slipping over the floor. She barely made it to the second deck when Jenny’s voice rang over the intercom—obviously she’d found the cockpit with no problem. “Hang on, kids.”

Hang on to what? Ophelia scrambled through the door, skidding into the far wall when the ship lifted unexpectedly. She cursed, slamming into the opposite wall when the whole structure swayed. “Ladydamnit, Jenny.”

By the time she got to the med bay, she was covered in bruises and had a headache starting behind her right eye. She found Cole crouched beside one of the beds, strapping Boone down. He’d managed to clean off most of the blood, revealing that the cuts weren’t nearly as deep as she’d feared. Hells, there weren’t even that many of them, just a few over his stomach and chest.

“We need to get these patches on him before we warp,” Cole said, jerking a med kit off the far wall. “He’s been drugged, and that’s more dangerous than the blood loss. We can’t risk moving him into the hub, so jumping will be rough.”

Rough didn’t begin to cover it. The hub and cockpit were the only parts of the ship reinforced to withstand a jump, making it merely uncomfortable for the average human. While jumping in another part of the ship wouldn’t kill anyone, it could come damn close. For a Diviner—a
pregnant
Diviner—the danger was so much more real.

They worked as quickly as they dared—which was pretty damn slowly—hooking up the patches and using med-gel to seal the wounds closed. There was no telling the level of internal damage, but at least they could stop the bleeding. The rest would have to wait until they weren’t running for their lives.

The intercom dinged. “Crew to the hub. You have fifteen minutes.”

“You need to go to the hub and strap in.” Cole’s hackles were still raised, making the Beshmaiite look downright ferocious.

“I’m not leaving him.”

“With all due respect, Diviner, you damn well better. Because I will not hesitate to carry you up there and tie you down.” Cole’s upper lip peeled back and a faint growl slipped past his teeth. “You carry his child. You will not endanger it—or yourself—needlessly.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but Jenny’s voice beat her to it. “Get your ass to the hub, Ophelia, or I’m sending Shadrach back there to sedate you.”

Ophelia knew when she was on the losing end of a battle. She snarled at Cole. “If he dies, I’m going to cut you into pieces and feed you to the first Bolkerian I find.”

He coughed. “So be it.”

She rushed out of the room and ran up the stairs to where the hub was tucked into the middle of the bridge. Her fingers flew over the harness as she strapped herself in, and all the while, she prayed to the Lady to keep her man safe. Hells, she hadn’t even gotten the chance to tell him about the baby. What would he say? How would he react?

On second thought, maybe it was best if he stayed unconscious.

“Hang on, kids, we’re going into the warp point…now.”

She didn’t have time to brace before they jumped. Her stomach lurched, retreating to somewhere near her left ankle. Ophelia gasped, icy air working its way into her lungs, leaving frozen tissue in its wake. Before she could do much more than grope at her harness, they were through the jump and back in straight space.

They jumped again. Each warp point had a finite number of destinations but one could weave in and out of them to work their way across the universe. Theoretically, their pursuers could only keep up for so long before they fell too far behind to follow in
The Dutchman
’s wake. The trick was staying alive long enough to get away.

The intercom crackled. “Godsdamnit, Caeden, get on those guns already! We’re taking heavy fire on our starboard side. Stop playing coy and do something!”

They jumped again. Ophelia closed her eyes, but that just made it worse, rainbow starbursts dancing across her closed lids and leaving her dizzy. She blinked several times to dispel the illusion, focusing on the empty seat across from her. The world swayed, the colors melting into a whirlpool. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t move.

They popped back into straight space. For a long moment, Ophelia thought they might be done, hoped they were done.

Frozen air saturated the hub as they jumped again. A high, scratchy sound cut through the air. Ophelia shook her head, trying to make it stop. It was only then she realized
she
was the one making the sound, and clamped her mouth shut. Embarrassment drove back her dizziness for a short moment, but then she inhaled and all she could feel was ice.

Again straight space. This time she barely had a chance to blink before they went back through the warp point. Ophelia slumped in her seat, her muscles unable to sustain their tension after so long. White spots danced across her vision, mingling with the other colors, absorbing them. Then white turned to gray and gray to black and the world melted away.

…

Ophelia’s awareness came back in waves.

Someone must have moved her because she was lying flat on her back. Blankets covered her from neck to toes, creating heavenly warmth.

Oh Lady, she needed to clean her teeth. The inside of her mouth tasted as if she’d vomited, and then slept in it for twelve hours. Not to mention how dry her tongue was.

The sound of cloth rubbing against skin let her know she wasn’t alone. The mattress below her dipped as someone sat down. “Try to open your eyes.” Jenny.

Ophelia cautiously obeyed. Even with the lights in the cabin on low, her eyes screamed. She closed them and sighed. This shit sucked.

“Want some water?”

“Yes.” She risked opening her eyes again. Being fed like an infant so wasn’t going to happen. This time, although the light hurt, she was able to fight through the pain. She struggled into a sitting position, her muscles screaming in protest.

Jenny held up a container of water with a straw, which Ophelia took with clumsy hands. She was barely able to get it to her lips without spilling. Her first drink made her moan in delight. Surely water had never tasted so good. The container was half empty before she finally stopped. “Is Boone okay?”

“All the jumping didn’t help, but he’s healing up. Cole thinks he’ll be conscious in twelve hours or so.”

Ophelia released the breath she hadn’t known she was holding. “Sanctify?”

Jenny leaned against the wall. “We lost the little shits after the fourth jump, and
Psyche
got away clean as well.”

From the other woman’s tone, there was more. “And?”

“And now we’re on the wrong side of the universe.” Jenny shrugged. “We have to stop to refuel and get supplies before we can head for Keiluna. And even then it will take a good two or three jumps, depending on the warp points.”

It took Ophelia longer than was pretty to understand. They were still taking her home. She’d risked life and limb and now they were shipping her off to safety while they went to battle?

Oh hells no.

Except…she should be happy to go, shouldn’t she? Sure, she was having Boone’s kid, but that didn’t mean she had a stake in Hansarda’s civil war. But Boone did and he was going to fight, one way or another. Ophelia couldn’t let him go alone. Left to his own devices, he’d probably do something stupid and nobly sacrifice himself for the greater good. Which was bullshit. No, she needed to be there to keep an eye on him, to watch his back.

Ophelia glanced up to find Jenny staring at her. “What?”

“Nothing.” Jenny gave an innocent smile that set off all sorts of red flags. “Just wondering when you were going to tell my big brother about being his baby’s mother.”

“Maybe I’m not telling him anything.”

Jenny’s grin got wider. “If that’s what you want.”

Boone’s sister was scheming. Ophelia would be an idiot to think otherwise. “Keep your mouth shut, Jenny.”

“I wouldn’t dream of telling him. This is too juicy!” Jenny bounced off the wall and strode from the room. “We set down on Terra III in six hours. Try to stay out of trouble until then.”

Staying out of trouble was so much harder than it sounded.