The Huntress (8 page)

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Authors: Michelle O'Leary

BOOK: The Huntress
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“Lure him in?”

“Something like that.”

Looking over her shoulder, she was pleased to see that Regan had already strapped herself into a seat. She winked, receiving a small, tense smile in return. Moving to the wall, she keyed a code into the panel there and a section of wall slid open, revealing mounted weapons. Bracing herself as the ship bucked, she glanced over at Stone. “You in?”

His hesitation was brief.

She smiled grimly and tossed him a gun when he moved forward. They strapped on various weapons and instruments, Mea pinching a tracer to her nose, but not activating it until the ship rolled hard and the power went off. The weak, auxiliary lights on the control panels kept the room from being completely black, but Mea clicked on the night vision anyway. Stone pulled his goggles off.

“Warren, get Regan to her quarters, lock her in, and then lock yourself in your alcove. We’ll take it from here.”

“What do you mean to do?”

“I mean to knock his dumb ass out and leave him adrift for HQ to deal with,” she answered. It was essentially the truth. She just left out the part where she entered his ship and updated his systems.

The other two disappeared down the hall as the ship shuddered. Bragan was already alongside sealing the hatches, and Mea shook her head at his haste. Sloppy work for a hunter. “Let’s go.”

As they moved through the dimness, Mea murmured to Stone, “I’m going to assume he’ll take the rear hatch—the docking bay—since it’s closer to cargo where he thinks I’ve stashed you. While he’s busy looking for you, we’ll breach his ship through the front hatch.”

They flanked the front hatch and triggered it to open, slipping into the other ship to do a quick search. Mea couldn’t smother a smile at how smoothly they functioned together, matching each other in fluid grace and efficiency, no wasted efforts and no hesitation. In this, her convict seemed to know exactly what she wanted.

Bragan had done what she’d predicted, and Mea quickly found the control room, not having to tell Stone to watch for his return. With swift fingers, she connected his systems with the main system and refreshed the onboard information, keying the ship to refresh all tracers as well. Then she signaled Stone and they both moved like twin shadows toward the hatch, stopping abruptly as Bragan’s voice boomed over the ship-wide intercom.

“Where is he, Brin? You give him up and I won’t have to break this girl’s neck!”

He had Regan.
The shock of a hunter threatening an innocent and the realization that she’d pushed him over the edge for real stiffened her form, but guilt took a back seat to a maternal rage flowing through her like lava. She could see an answering feral snarl twist Stone’s lips. Words weren’t necessary—they could read Bragan’s fate in each other’s eyes.

As one they put down their guns, knowing that if they shot at him, they might hit the girl. With silent and savage purpose, they prowled through the ship like the predators they were, armed only with blades and their own lethal intent. Their search ended outside of the cargo bay.

“Cover your eyes,” she whispered in his ear, putting an arm across her own as she activated full power. When the lights came on, there was a howl behind the door. Bragan had had his night vision on and the brightness had blinded him. She killed the power and they dove into the cargo bay together under the cover of darkness.

Bragan stood in the middle of the room, blind eyes staring at nothing, discarded tracer lying at his feet. He held a long gun in one burly fist and Regan’s neck in the other. The girl was whimpering softly.

Eyes black with deadly promise, Stone circled around to the opposite side of their quarry. Mea crouched low, watching the big hunter pan the dimness with his gun. Somehow, she had to get him to drop the girl and take her out of the equation. Even with the two of them, they might not be able to stop him before he hurt her.

“I know you’re there!” Bragan snarled to the darkness. “Just give me a reason, Brin. I’ll snap her like a stick.” Following words with action, he lifted the girl off the ground and shook her like a rag.

Regan screamed in pain. The sound ringing in her ears and driving her rage to new heights, Mea darted forward under the level of his gun, unsheathing a long knife. With savage force, she drove the blade into his forearm and twisted.

Tendons cut, he could no longer hold the girl. Roaring, he brought his gun around to blast in Mea’s direction.

She wasn’t there. Catching Regan as she fell, Mea dropped full length to the floor and rolled the girl away. Ignoring the sound of shattering cryotubes, Mea tucked her against the wall and whispered urgently in her ear, “Don’t move.”

Leaping to a crouch, she moved in again, but Stone had beaten her to it. While she’d gotten the child out of the way, he’d planted a knife deep in Bragan’s kidney, but the huge man swung around as though the wound meant nothing and caught Stone across the chest with the arm holding the gun. The knife wound most likely had severed Bragan’s renal artery and he would bleed out internally within minutes, but Mea couldn’t wait that long. Not only was the man still a deadly force waving that gun, she also didn’t want his death to fall on her convict’s head.

Palming another knife, she paused long enough for Bragan to turn his back and then dove in, slicing both hamstrings with one swipe. He slammed to his knees, roaring like a wounded bear. As he tried to bring the gun back around, she slid the blade with fatal force through the soft spot at the base of his skull, killing him instantly.

Not bothering to watch him hit the floor, Mea turned toward the girl, Stone right there with her. “You okay?” she asked him, and he nodded as they knelt by the whimpering child. “Regan?” Mea asked softly, heart breaking to see tears and terror on her young face.

“It—it hurts,” the little girl rasped, breath ragged.

“Where?”

“My neck. I can’t move my right side.”

Mea activated her transceiver. “Warren,” she barked, “get to the infirmary. Bring a stretcher and stabilizing foam to the cargo bay. Regan’s hurt.”

“On my way.”

“Just hold still,” she murmured, running a gentle hand down Regan’s wet cheek.

The girl rolled her eyes, straining to see past them in the dark. “Is he…”

“He’s dead.” Stone’s voice was implacable, but Mea could hear the undertone of satisfaction.

“Good!” Regan muttered in a fierce little voice.

“I’m turning on the power.”

At the android’s warning, Mea deactivated her tracer and touched Stone lightly on the arm. “Goggles.”

The lights came on slowly, but Regan still squinted as though looking into a sun. Seconds later, Warren barreled into the bay, stretcher floating behind him and a packet of foam in one hand. “Ema’s ready.”

Nodding acknowledgement, Mea took the packet from him and slid it gently under the girl's neck. “Regan, be ready. It may hurt a little when this stuff activates.”

The girl squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath while the foam billowed out under her head, neck, and upper back, stabilizing her spine so they could move her without causing injury. “That wasn’t so bad,” she whispered, and Mea smiled down at her.

Sliding her arms carefully under the child, she lifted straight up so Warren could slide the floating stretcher underneath.

“Warren, get that garbage off my ship,” she said with a jerk of her head at the body. Then she pushed the stretcher from the room, hurrying down the hall to the infirmary with Stone trailing behind.

“Get her on my table now!” Ema barked and Mea did so without a word. “Hold on, dearling. This will take the pain away.” One of the AIs mechanical arms angled down and administered an injection.

Moments after the shot, relief spread across Regan’s face and she began to sob.

“Oh, now. There’s nothing to cry about. I’ll have you fixed in no time.”

“I—I’m sorry! It’s all my fault. I snuck out of my room. I didn’t wanna be alone.” Dark eyes shimmering with tears, she looked at Mea and Stone. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Mea said firmly, trying to ignore the constriction around her chest. “I should never have let him on board. I didn’t realize how far gone he was.”

Stone paced around the room, rubbing the back of his neck. Mea knew how he felt—helpless and angry. If he was anything like her, he was wishing he could go back and kill the bastard again.

“How’s it look, Ema?”

“Well, let’s see.”

The force field activated and Regan’s body began to levitate off the table. Her eyes went wide and she gave a surprised snort. “That feels weird.” Machines on outstretched arms spun about her head and neck.

“No problem. She has a fracture in one of her cervical vertebrae that’s pressing on her spine. Mild injury to the nerves. It’ll take some time, but she’ll be good as new. Maybe better,” Ema added smugly.

“Don’t get cocky, you crystal in a can. Just do a good job.” Mea’s growl covered a tremendous surge of relief. She watched the foam fall away as golden beams danced around the girl’s neck.

Regan looked expectant, but her face fell after a moment. “I thought I’d feel something happening.”

“This will take several hours, little one. Be patient,” Ema crooned in a tone of maternal indulgence, and Mea smothered a grin, amused that the AI seemed so taken with the child.

Regan grimaced, her expression glum. “Hours?”

Before Mea could think of something to cheer or distract her, Warren entered. She saw by his expression that one more guilty conscience was present, and she scowled with impatience.

“The body is on the other ship. I set it adrift with a homing signal for HQ,” he said in a subdued voice.

“Good. Thank you.”

“He destroyed two cryotubes, both empty. Minor damage to the hull.”

“All right. We’ll clean it up later.” She waited for his self-recrimination—it wasn’t long in coming.

“I’m sorry, this is my fault. I should’ve—”

“Shut up, Warren. You know there’s nothing you could’ve done.”

“Why not?” Stone muttered, pacing aggressively around the android. “He held me down. Should’ve been able to hold Bragan.”

Planting hands on hips, Mea glared at him. “You,” she snapped, “don’t have metal alloy bonded to your bones and genetic augmentation of your muscles. Besides, Bragan would’ve just blasted a hole through his CPU and we’d be in the same situation, minus one android.”

Turning her back on them and muttering imprecations about men in general under her breath, she keyed a seat to extend from under the table and dropped onto it.

Regan was staring at her wide-eyed. “Do all hunters have metal on their bones and genetic whatever?”

“Yup.” Mea tipped her head to one side, smirking down at the girl. “How do you think I kicked so much ass in that bar?”

“Wow,” Regan mumbled, searching Mea’s face as though she expected to see the alloy under her skin. “What does it feel like?”

“I don’t feel anything now, but the procedures and the therapy after were pure hell.” Mea grimaced at the memory. “I cried like a baby.”

“You did?” Regan squeaked, eyes widening even more.

“I sure did.”

“Then why—why did you do it?”

“Why did I go through it? Well, I’m stronger, faster, much less breakable. Plus the genetic enhancement slows down the aging process. I’m going to be working long past when most people retire.”

“Ah, ladies? I hate to interrupt, but…” Warren moved to the side of the table. “Mea, you need to talk to Mike about this. I’ll sit with her.”

With reluctance slowing her movements, she rose to her feet, shifting aside for the android. “Thanks. I’m sure Warren would love to bend your ear, squirt.”

“I’ll tell you about all the trouble Mea used to get into at your age.”

Rolling her eyes, Mea headed for the door.

Stone moved into her path. “What’re you gonna to tell him?”

“The truth. Bragan went rogue and I had to kill him to save an innocent.”

“You
killed him?” He frowned.

Mea quirked the corner of her lips in a wry smile, then said, “Don’t worry, I’ll give you partial credit.” Easing around him, she left the infirmary and wandered up the hall. Exhaustion dragged at her feet like lead weights, and she wondered if she should take another stim patch, but decided against it as she entered the control room. She wouldn’t be able to sleep later if she did.

Uncle Mike did not look pleased to see her, especially since it appeared that she’d woken him up. His eyes were barely open and his thick hair was in a goofy tangle.

“Morning, Boss.”

“Do you know what time it is, Hunter?”

“No. And in about two seconds you’re not going to care. Bragan’s dead.”

“What?”
he snapped, eyes popping wide open. “How?”

“You’re looking at the how. It’s the why that’s going to drive you nuts. He went rogue, Chief.”

He straightened, rugged face becoming unreadable. “We haven’t had a rogue in almost twenty years.”

“I know,” she murmured, watching him with a trace of regret. She loved this man like a father and given a choice, she wouldn’t have involved him at all.

“All right, Hunter Brin. Let’s hear it from the beginning.”

So she told him, mentioning Regan and Stone with as little detail as possible. He listened without comment to the whole narration, and when she finished, he began bombarding her with questions. She allowed it for a while until he began asking questions about her companions.

“How could you let a civilian assist in hunting a rogue? What were those two doing on your ship anyway?”

“Uncle Mike,” she sighed, rubbing her face with unfeigned weariness, “I’ve had about five hours sleep in the past several days. I am way beyond tired. Can we do this later? Then you can grill me as long as you like. I promise.”

He frowned and she could see the boss in him warring with the man who raised her. “How’s the girl?”

“She was okay when I left, and Ema’s promising to heal her better than new, but I’m going to check on her before I crash,” Mea answered, waiting for his dismissal.

“All right, go get some rest. But I expect complete access to your ship’s systems and to Warren while you’re down.”

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