Page 110 of Star Bringer
I go to grab him, but Kali’s arm moves with me. Goddamn handcuffs suddenly seem like a much less good idea. I need to get us out of these damn things, but there’s no time. That last shot at the lock sounded like the planeta-maker.
“Work with me!” I snarl at Kali as I reach for Gage again.
But he’s finally on his feet and hauling ass for the desk. Maybe it is just a graze after all.
“Come on!” I yell to Kali, and we dive over the top of the desk—sending the terminal crashing to the ground on top of its dead owner—just as the door slams open.
Laser blasts hit the wall just above our heads. I drop a hand on Kali’s hair and shove her down just as another blast comes straight at where she was.
“There’s three of them,” Gage assesses. He’s on his stomach peering through the crack where the desk ends and the floor begins.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Yeah, well, at least we’re not outnumbered,” I say to encourage them. Except one of us is injured and one of us is a princess. No offense to either of them, but let’s be honest, that’s as outnumbered as it gets.
They’re racing toward the desk, lasers blasting. And while the thing is thick wood and surprisingly good quality for where it’s located, it’s no match for lasers. We’ve got one chance to get out of this alive.
“Grab his gun!” I shout to Gage, nodding at the dead man’s pistol, which has fallen a few feet from his dead body. “Then count to three and fire at whoever is coming over this desk.”
I don’t wait to see if he’s going to be able to get it. Instead, I hiss, “Close your eyes,” then shoot out the overhead lights.
It’s not night outside, but the storm has turned the sky a dark, dismal gray. Add in the fact that there’s only one window in this shithole, and the whole room plunges into a twilight shade of darkness. Then I grab the dead asshole’s coffee cup and pitch it at one of the side walls as hard as I can.
As soon as it hits, the fuckers on the other side of the desk whirl toward the noise, guns blaring. It’s only for a second or two, but it’s the break I’ve been waiting for. I pop up just enough to fire a laser blast at the guy closest to us.
I aim for the head, and what’s left of him hits the ground in an instant. I whip toward the second guy, sending a stream straight at him, too. But he crouches to the ground fast, and the white-hot blast goes right over his head.
“Did you get the gun?” I shout at Gage.
“I did!” Kali tells me, and she waves the thing in the air like it’s some kind of toy.
“Don’t do that!” I shout, giving Gage a what-the-fuck eye roll.
But he’s looking a little green as he gives me a what-could-I-do shrug, and I tell myself I shouldn’t kick an injured man’s ass. But fuck is it tempting.
“You’re the one who said to get the gun!” Kali shouts back.
“Yeah, to point atthem, not me.”
I peer around the side of the desk, just to see what’s going on. But it’s too late. One of them is already here, leaping over the top and landing right on Gage, who yells as the guy’s weight crashes into his injured side.
I grab the guy with my free hand and yank him off Gage just as the second one comes barreling around the desk. I send his friend flying into him and then take aim. But Kali beats me to it, waving her gun in their general direction before pulling the trigger several times in quick succession.
Most of her shots go wide—really wide—but they give me the cover I need to fire as well. Mine don’t miss. And seconds later, they’re both on the floor, as dead as their two friends, and I’m slumping down against the desk, taking a deep breath and trying to figure out what the fuck to do next.
Chapter 42
Kali
“Well fucking done, Princess,” Ian says as he yanks my cuffed hand toward his so he can give me the most sarcastic slow clap in the history of Senestris.
“What?” I ask, affronted. “Those guys are dead, aren’t they?”
“No thanks to you.” He reaches over and rips the gun out of my hand. “Have you ever even fired one of these?”
“I have now,” I tell him, and I can’t help feeling a little proud that I played a part in defending us. I’m also happy that I didn’t actually kill anyone. I’m not sure how well I’d handle that—there’s a wide gulf between pulling my weight and murdering people.
“I don’t even know what I’m supposed to say to that.” Ian rolls his eyes, but a small smile plays along his mouth, and I can’t help but grin just the tiniest bit, too. Then he turns to Gage. “How are you holding up?”
“I told you. It’s just a graze.” But his pained haughtiness says otherwise.
