Page 75 of Nansar
"Chloe—"
"He wants me, Nansar. That's the whole reason he's here. If I walk out there, every single one of them will forget Ahrick exists. You'll have your opening."
"And you'll have a dozen blasters aimed at your head."
"Not if you're as fast as I think you are." I met his gaze, channeling every ounce of confidence I could muster, even as my pulse hammered against my ribs. "You'll protect me."
The conflict that raged across his face was almost painful to witness—duty warring with something deeper, something that made my breath catch. Then he cursed, a guttural word in his native tongue that sounded like "belzork," and yanked Ahrick's blaster from his belt.
"Tell me you know how to use this."
I took the weapon, checking the charge with hands that were steadier than they had any right to be. "I'm a good shot." The Navy had seen to that. The FBI had made sure of it.
"You'd better be the best shot on the planet." His hand came up to cup my face, thumb tracing my cheekbone. "Because if anything happens to you, I'll burn this entire planet to ash."
"Nothing's going to happen to me," I promised, though my heart was trying to beat its way out of my chest. "We're going to save Ahrick, and then you're going to keep your promise."
"What promise?"
I looked back toward the clearing, where Declan stood like a king surveying his conquest. "You're going to kill him."
Nansar's smile was a beautiful, terrible thing—all sharp edges and dark promises. "With pleasure."
I took a breath that felt like it might be my last, tucked the blaster against my spine where my tunic would hide it, and pulled Nansar down into a kiss that tasted like desperation and defiance and goodbye. When we broke apart, we were both breathless.
Then I stepped out from behind the trees.
My footsteps crunched deliberately through the undergrowth, each snap of a twig a calculated announcement. I kept my shoulders hunched, my gaze lowered—the picture of someone trying desperately to be stealthy and failing spectacularly. When I finally lifted my eyes and saw Declan standing there surrounded by his mercenaries, I let shock bloom across my face.
"No," I whispered, stumbling backward with all the grace of genuine terror. My hand flew to my mouth. "No, no, no—"
Declan's laugh sliced through the clearing like a blade. "Well, well, well. Look what we have here." He opened his arms in a gesture of mock welcome, his smile all teeth and triumph. "My spy was right on the money. I knew the Alliance was sending a ship to rescue you, little Chloe, and exactly where you'd be. I just had to get here first."
The sight of him—that smug, self-satisfied expression, those eyes gleaming with ownership—sent revulsion crawling across my skin like insects. My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat a war drum.
"Stay away from me." The tremor in my voice required no acting.
"Oh, come now." He advanced with slow confidence, his tone dripped honey laced with poison. "Don't be like that." Another measured step. "Now that your father is working with the Alliance Prime, you're my most precious asset. Come on now, pet. We need to leave before that Alliance ship gets here."
That word—pet—ignited something molten in my chest. The fear burned away, replaced by pure, crystalline rage.
I straightened, my hands curling into fists so tight my nails carved crescents into my palms.
"No."
His smile flickered like a candle in wind. "What?"
"I said no." Steel threaded through my voice now, unshakeable. "You are never going to touch me again."
The mask cracked. His expression twisted into something ugly, all wounded pride and cold fury. "You stupid little bitch," he snarled, his hand darting to his hip.
I registered the movement as the dart gun appeared, heard the softpfftof compressed air, felt the sharp kiss of the dart embedding itself in my shoulder.
The physical pain was nothing compared to the wave of rage that crashed over me. I couldn't see Nansar, couldn't hear him, but Ifelthim—his fury a living thing that made the air shimmer with barely restrained violence. For one heart-stopping moment, I worried he might abandon the plan, might charge forward in a storm of protective wrath.
But beneath that volcanic anger, I sensed iron control. He was waiting. Trusting me.
I looked down at the dart, then back at Declan's confident, cruel smile.
