Authors: Cara Crescent
The Last Marine (29 page)
Lucan came up next to him and swore.
“She was here for a while, at least. Where do you think they took her?” Griffin asked.
“Depends.” Merrick said, from behind them. “What do they want her for?”
“Ultimately? Sex.”
Both men swore.
Griffin dragged his hand down his face. “Thing is, Randolph was so pissed at her, I’m more worried he’ll kill her.”
Lucan grimaced. “And you disappearing will add to his fury.”
Damn it. He hadn’t considered they’d move her so soon. “Where are the private quarters?”
Lucan started walking down the hall. “Upstairs. There’s a back staircase near the kitchens, so we can avoid going through the front hall again.”
Everyone followed, their shoes echoing on the hardwoods. Grady came up next to Griffin. “How come you didn’t kill ’em?”
“A soldier doesn’t use more force than necessary. If he fought me, I’d have killed him. He didn’t, so he gets to keep breathing.”
“Ah.” Grady nodded. “Okay, then.”
“You got your safety off, Grady?”
“Yep. Sure do, Chief.” Grady nodded.
A few steps later, Grady lifted his LMG and the sound of the safety clicking off echoed in the hallway.
Holy Christ, they needed a miracle.
Blue Helmets came and got her.
Prudence followed the Blue Helmets upstairs. She had Lucan’s gun tucked into her pants at the small of her back. It felt huge, strange, and kept sticking to her sweaty skin.
She’d never killed anyone before.
True, she’d shot the Scarecrow, but she didn’t have a choice; the creature would’ve killed Griffin.
And if you don’t kill Randolph and Bronsen, they’ll find Griffin and kill him.
But killing was a harder thing to do when she’d had so much time to think about it. Goddess help her, she’d been thinking about it a lot—wondering where she should shoot them. The head? The heart? How big of a mess would it make? Would she hate herself as much as Griffin hated himself afterward? She despised both Randolph and Bronsen more than anyone. She had plenty of right to. Yet, she couldn’t bear the thought of causing anyone to suffer. She wanted to kill them quick.
And she didn’t want to die. She had her baby to protect. If she played this right, she’d walk away alive and in one piece.
She’d do like Griffin did. Draw, fire, and drop her weapon so the Blue Helmets would have to take her into custody. Merrick was the justice on Asteria. As long as she survived doing the deed, he’d keep her and her baby safe.
The Blue Helmets stopped in front of an open door and took their posts on either side. “You can go in.”
Prudence stepped into the room. A long, oak dining table and chairs took up the majority of the space. There was an archway beyond the right side of the table, with swinging doors that must lead to the kitchens. Two bay windows looked out on the spaceport in the distance from behind the head of the table. On the left was a floor-to-ceiling wall-to-wall mural of the Grand Canyon.
Randolph sat at the far end of the table with Bronsen on his right. There was one place setting laid out at the end of the table closest to her.
Randolph motioned to her. “Sit.”
She pulled out her chair and sat. This would be the perfect place to shoot them, they were alone. But she wasn’t sure she’d hit either of them from this distance. She wiped her sweaty palms on her thighs.
Three servants walked in with trays of plates, their white uniforms marking them as kitchen staff. Two walked over to the men and served them. A young woman approached Prudence and set down all three courses—salad, entrée, and dessert. She curtsied and left without a word.
Bronsen and Randolph began eating, still speaking so softly she had no hope of hearing them. Were they plotting her next punishment? Were they deciding what to do about Griffin’s disappearance? Were they planning their trip back to Earth?
Prudence glanced down at her plate and her stomach roiled. She knew she should eat something to keep up her strength, but she wasn’t hungry.
Besides, she’d already bitten off far more than she could chew.
Griffin took the lead at the base of the stairs, pausing to ask Lucan, “How many doors down?”
“Four. That room leads to the kitchens. Then up one more flight of stairs is the living quarters. We’ll come out in the dining room. The private rooms are down the hall.”
Griffin nodded. “Stay a couple steps behind me.”
He started up the steps and the second floor came into view. Stairs were dangerous as hell because the people at the top would see the crown of his head before he saw them.
“Hey!”
Griffin swung around. A Blue Helmet stood in the hallway below them. He lifted his weapon.
With a curse, Griffin shot him. The discharge echoed in the enclosed space.
As did the Blue Helmet’s shout.
“Christ, the whole place must have heard that. Let’s go.” He didn’t bother to keep his voice down. He could already hear shouts of alarm coming from different areas of the compound.
They were fucked.
Griffin took the stairs two at a time, cutting down two more Blue Helmets running down the hall toward them.
Half a dozen more spilled out of one of the rooms farther up the hall.
A hand clamped around Griffin’s shoulder, pulling him back. “This way.” Lucan ducked into a side room.
“We’re gonna get pinned down.”
“This leads to the kitchens. Follow it around to the left and up the stairs. Merrick and I will keep these guys busy.”
Griffin paused. “We should stay together.”
Lucan had hunkered down by the door, lining up a shot. “You have to come back this way. We’ll be fine. Go.”
Griffin wanted to argue further, but Merrick was pinned in the room across the hall, popping out and taking shots at the Blue Helmets. There wasn’t a chance in hell Lucan would leave his husband here.
Griffin ordered two more men to stay. “The rest of you come with me. Hustle now.”
They made it all the way down the hall without being seen, but the hallway opened into a busy kitchen. A long, stainless-steel counter ran down the center of the room, with stoves, sinks, and storage closets along the outer walls. There must be fifteen people in here, but none of them appeared to be armed with anything more dangerous than kitchen utensils.
A dish shattered, and all eyes turned to them.
“Everybody in the cold storage. Now.” Griffin motioned them all toward the back of the room with his weapon.
“Won’t they freeze in there?” Grady asked.
“I said cold storage, not freezer.”
“Oh, right.” Grady moved to the far side of the counters, helping corral the workers toward the back of the room. “You heard Chief, getchyur asses in there quick.”
The kitchen staff all squeezed into the small room and Grady rammed his hip against the door until the latch clicked shut.
Griffin wiped the sweat from his brow. “Anyone see the stairs?”
“Over here.” One of his men pointed off to the left with his LMG.
Griffin jogged over and checked the stairwell. “All right.” He turned back to his men, pausing when he realized Grady was eating. “Grady, get your ass over here.”
“Sorry.” He popped another morsel into his mouth. “Get hungry when I’m nervous.”
Griffin shook his head. “Keep your eyes up. Shoot anything you see that’s not us.” He led the way into the stairwell, making it a few feet before someone opened fire from above. He backed up, waiting for the blasts to stop, before stepping back into the stairwell to fire. The shooter stayed out of sight. Griffin was beginning to think they left, when a LMG appeared over the edge of the banister above and sprayed the stairwell with photon blasts.
He ducked out of range. “Grady, you still have that grenade?”
“Yep.” Grady dug the grenade out of his pocket, pulled the pin and handed it to Griffin.
“Goddamnit!” Griffin lunged out into the spray of blasts and hurled the grenade up to the second floor. He glared at Grady. “You hand me the fucking thing live? Are you nuts?”
Grady grinned. “You were right, Chief, damned thing did still have some shock value.”
Above them, a blast shook the building. Griffin ducked down with the others, his ears ringing. Flaming plaster and wood rained down in the stairwell. “Come on.”
Griffin led the way upstairs.
Someone was yelling.
The commotion didn’t seem to be coming from this part of the house, but someone sounded upset. Or hurt.
Neither Randolph nor Bronsen had taken notice. They were both still occupied with their conversation.
A few minutes later, Prudence heard gunfire. Her heart sped up. Had Lucan and Merrick returned?
Bronsen lifted his head. “Stay here. I’ll see what’s going on.” He stood up, withdrawing his weapon as he walked from the room.
Prudence reached back and took hold of her weapon, keeping her hand hidden under the table. Not a moment later, the whole room shook as an explosion rocked the building. Smoke billowed out of the door leading to the kitchens.
Randolph stood up.
With a glance over her shoulder to make sure Bronsen was gone, she rose, too. “Don’t move.”
Randolph’s eyes widened, his head jerked to the side. “What are you doing? Sit down.”
“No.” Prudence walked the length of the table on shaky legs.
“If you were going to s-shoot, you’d have d-done so already. Put the gun on the table and go sit down. Good God, you’re a s-stupid woman.”
Goddess, he must be stressed. She’d never seen him like this. Twitchy, pale, now he was stuttering. “No. Not stupid. Compassionate.” She stood next to him and lifted the gun. “I wanted to be close enough to make sure I got you with one shot.” Prudence flipped off the safety and aimed, trying without success to steady her hand.
Oh, dear Goddess, she couldn’t do this. She couldn’t—
Men barreled into the room and Randolph dropped back in his chair.
She shifted her aim, hoping to see Lucan or Merrick. Her heart stuttered in her chest.
Griffin.
It couldn’t be him. He was healthy. Whole. Not a bruise marred his face or arms.
Did he have another brother? A twin?
Her moment of inattention cost her. Randolph lunged up and grabbed hold of her, knocking the gun from her hand and pulling her body in front of his like a shield. With dawning horror, she realized he held a gun.
Griffin and the others froze. For a long moment, no one spoke, no one moved, and the sounds coming from out in the hall seemed to grow louder.
Randolph motioned to him with the gun. “You’re d-dead. You can’t be here.”
Griffin began walking down the length of the table. “Hi, Angel. You doin’ all right?”
Prudence nodded. “How are you here?”
The corner of his mouth kicked up. “I told you, if you ever disappeared on me I’d come for you. Myself. Besides, you were about to kill the wrong man.”
“What?”
“Good ’ol Randolph here, he won’t be a threat once Bronsen is gone.”
Randolph fired off a shot. “Shut up, you don’t know what you’re t-talking about.”
Griffin straightened from where he’d taken cover behind one of the high-back chairs. His smile faded. “Wasn’t Prudence who helped me get close to Alfred. It was your lover.”
Randolph’s arm squeezed tight around Prudence. “You’re wrong.”
“Am I?” Griffin edged closer. “I’m a tagged soldier, Randolph. Your head of security must have known I was out there. All of the rebels, actually. Think about it. Either he’s doing a piss-poor job, or he knew we were out there. Where we were. What we were doing.”
Randolph backed up a few steps, dragging Prudence with him.
“And the night I killed your brother, there was no security. No armed guards. No one swept me for a weapon. They let me walk in, dressed in a Marine’s uniform carrying a sidearm.”
“I don’t w-want to hear this.” He seemed to remember he had her in his grasp and pressed the muzzle of his weapon under her chin.
Griffin held up his hand, stopping. “She’s innocent. She’s done nothing to you.”
Prudence cleared her throat. “Randolph, what I said about Alfred planning to ship you away. It was true. I saw the documents. Had Alfred not died, you would’ve been shipped out on the same flight I took.”
“He wouldn’t. Alfred created utopia for me. He made everything right, orderly. He did it for me.”
Prudence slipped her hand into her pocket, gripping the shard of glass she’d kept from the torture room.
Griffin shook his head. “That’s why Bronsen let me in. Whether I pulled the trigger or not, Alfred was going to die that night and I was going to trial for his murder.”
“He did it for me, then. Bronsen was protecting me. He must’ve believed these lies about Alfred and—”
Again, Griffin shook his head. “Remember what I said about soldiers being tagged? Think about the rebels. If Bronsen wanted to stop the rebellion, he could’ve. I think he plans to let you die, then take over as PM himself.”
“No. He’s here to help me get Prudence back.”
“For himself. Not for you.”
Bronsen chose that moment to walk in. His gaze shot around the room, taking everything in.
Griffin stepped back, pointing his weapon at Bronsen, holding his hand up to stay his men. “Close the door.”
Bronsen nodded toward Randolph and Prudence. “He’s off his meds, you know. Twitchy as hell. He could shoot her accidently at any time. I’m surprised you haven’t taken him down yet. ”
Behind her, Randolph gasped. “Bronsen?”
Prudence almost felt sorry for Randolph. He sounded lost as a little boy. Here he was arguing in Bronsen’s defense and his lover was urging them to shoot him. Still, she didn’t trust him. He had a mean streak a mile wide. She adjusted her grip on the shard of glass.
She shared a glance with Griffin. This could go sideways fast. She had a gun to her throat, Griffin was pinned in the middle of the room halfway between Bronsen and Randolph, and the three men he had with him were on the other side of the room, armed, but looking a bit unsure of who to shoot and when.
“Bronsen, they’re trying to tell me you’ve allowed all this to happen. That you could have prevented Alfred’s death. That you’re allowing the rebellion.”
Bronsen shrugged. “You and Alfred both have your talents, but neither of you would be a good leader for the long term. The world needs someone decisive. Strong.”
Griffin snorted. “Like you.”
“Like me.”
Randolph shifted, pulling the gun from her throat and aimed it at Bronsen. “Bastard.”
Bronsen swung his weapon around, too. Both fired.
Fire lanced across Prudence’s arm and behind her, Randolph jerked. Bronsen took the shot in the shoulder. Not a lethal wound by any means, but as soon as shot went off, Griffin’s men fired, too. Bronsen’s body jerked several times, before he dropped to the ground, dead.
Prudence jabbed the glass into Randolph’s thigh, grabbed his gun, and dove away from him as the men turned toward Randolph. She rolled onto her back, lifted the weapon and fired. Her aim was true. She hit him dead center in the chest.
A look of shock passed over Randolph’s face before he slumped to the ground.
“Christ. Angel are you okay?”
Prudence got to her feet and pressed her hand to her stomach.
Goddess, that was close.
She’d been so sure she’d been shot she could even smell burnt flesh. Her ears still rang and smoke filled the room. She stared at Randolph’s face, as his lifeless eyes stared unseeing at the ceiling.
“Are you all right? Christ, you scared me.” Griffin approached her. His worried gaze raked over her before he glanced over his shoulder at the others. “Give me something to tie up her wounds.”
But how? How could this be the same man she’d help load on to the hover-car hours ago? “Is it really you?”
He cupped her face and pressed his lips to hers.
Goddess be praised, he tasted like Griffin. She pushed away, searching his face.
“If you tell me you don’t at least recognize my kiss, I’m gonna call you ‘lady’ for the rest of our lives.”
Prudence lunged at him, wrapping him in her embrace. He was whole. Not a mark marred his body. “How?” She couldn’t stop touching him. She ran her hands down his face, his perfect, healed face. “How many med-wands did they use on you?” She couldn’t see him anymore through her tears, but, oh, she was so happy.
“Just your gift.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “All I wanted was to survive so I’d be around for you.”
That was the loveliest thing he’d ever said. She sniffed and wiped away the fresh burst of tears. “I couldn’t kill Randolph. I wanted to. I wanted to make sure he couldn’t hurt anyone anymore, but I couldn’t. And I almost cost us our lives.”
“Shh. It’s all going to be all right now, Angel. You got him in the end.” He gave her a quick kiss.
Griffin took her hand in his, and began wrapping the slice across her palm from the glass she’d stabbed Randolph with. Another man she didn’t know wrapped her bicep with a strip of his shirt; she didn’t pay much attention until he tightened the binding over her arm. She gasped. “I did get hit.”
“Hey, Chief, we stay here much longer, we’re gonna be in trouble.”
“Coming, Grady.” Griffin scowled. “You did. And we’re going to have a long discussion about this later.”
The way he growled she had no doubt she wouldn’t like whatever he had to say. “I love you, baby.”
He winked. “Don’t think for a minute that’s gonna keep you out of trouble when we get home.”
Home.
Joy filled her near to bursting. He spoke as if he planned to stay.
“Come on. We need to get out of here.”
