The Erian roared his anguish and fell back to the deck, cradling the area where his sex organ used to be.
Estimating that the tunnel here was ten feet high, she ran toward the downed Erian at full speed. Right before she reached him, she leapt into the air, tucked and rolled, reaching out with her knife hand to slit his throat as she passed over him. Landing on her feet, she sprinted down the next corridor. The satisfying sound of a dying gurgle followed her into the next turn, followed by the bang-and-crash of the trap.
The Prime had witnessed her passage and rearmed the trap. Even if she’d missed slitting the Erian’s throat properly, the trap would efficiently finish the lizard off. Her back trail was covered.
“Thanks,” she said loudly, not sure where or how sensitive the microphones were in the tunnel.
“You’re welcome, Melina.”
She recognized that voice. It wasn’t the male that had issued the distress call, but she had met the man on Tooh 2.
“Iolyn? Huw?” She smiled at the live camera to her right.
“It’s Iolyn, Melina. Welcome on board the Galanti.”
“Glad I could make it. What’s it look like ahead?”
“Trouble,” growled a low, unknown male voice.
Well, not exactly unknown. That was the voice on the distress call. And as it had on the jump station, the voice sent fingers of heat throughout her body. She forced back a low moan as she rubbed at her hip. Heat like she’d never experienced radiated from the marking she’d had for as far back as she could remember. Her birthmark, as her mother had always called it.
“Who’s that?” She frowned, shaking off the unusual sensations caused by the unknown speaker. “What kind of trouble? Trap or pirate?” Or you?
“Me,” rumbled the same male.
Mel gulped. That was what she’d been afraid of. Damn, her extra senses were really working spot-on this trip.
“Melina,” Iolyn said, his voice practically drenched with suppressed amusement.
“Meet my brother, Wulf. He is the captain of this ship.”
“Iolyn, he doesn’t sound very grateful that I’m here to help rid his ship of pirates.”
“You should have sent one of your men,” snarled Wulf. “This is no place for a woman.”
Mel sighed and bit back the harsh retort. Okay, sexy-to-die-for voice in the body of a male chauvinist. Well, no one ever promised allying with the Prime military would be easy. Alliance female soldiers would just have to prove themselves. Beginning with her.
“Sorry, Captain.” Not. “But I’m the only one who speaks or reads Prime.” She started forward once more, found the Prime words for the engine room and followed the correct tunnel. “Besides, I couldn’t risk my men. By the way, I do hope you’ve turned off the self-destruct. There are now two squadrons of Alliance battlecruisers lying immediately outside the danger zone waiting for the all clear.”
“Can you give it now?” Wulf’s voice was calmer, not as snarly and filled with anger as before.
She wasn’t sure why she could read this man’s moods so easily, but she could. And why in the hell did it make her feel calm that he was calm? She’d never made it a practice to worry about any man’s moods.
“There’s something blocking external communications,” she explained as she cautiously approached an access panel to a hallway labeled the weapons deck. “We tried to hail you before we boarded the ship.”
Wulf’s curses came across the speakers clearly. The growl was back in his voice.
Mel laughed. “Those are some new words for me. I learned your language from ancient texts. My contemporary colloquial knowledge of your language is lacking, I’m afraid. I caught bhau, balls or testicles, but what is ansu?”
“You don’t need to know,” growled Wulf. “It is not—”
Iolyn laughed and cut his brother’s next, undoubtedly sexist, remark off. “In your language, the closest translation is ‘devil.’”
“Ansu bhau. Devil’s balls.” She grinned. “Can’t wait to use it on an Antarean.”
“You will never get near an Antarean, if I have anything to say about it,” bellowed Wulf.
Staying alert to her surroundings, she wondered why Wulf sounded so possessive, because that was how she read his voice. And since when could she read voices? Her psi abilities usually only worked when she was in close proximity with the person she read.
Maybe his emotions were stronger and traveled farther. She mentally shrugged.
“Well, it’s a good thing that I answer only to the Alliance Military Command, then, isn’t it?” She stopped and opened her senses wide, seeking another presence in the tunnel ahead. “Besides, I killed two Antareans just over sixty hours ago—and wounded and left to die two Erians in this tunnel. They’re dead. I’m not. ‘Nuff said.” She raised a hand to the camera and signaled for silence just in case Wulf felt the need to holler at her again. Something wasn’t right in the tunnel ahead. She hand-signaled asking for a recon report. Two clicks came over the speaker.
Thank God, the Prime still used their old hand signals. She’d remember to thank her father for letting her read all his Prime military finds. They were coming in very useful.
She raised two fingers to confirm.
The two clicks sounded again.
Two pirates dead ahead—and they weren’t dead. She could feel their life signs. Well, shit.
Spotting a ladder to the right, she looked up. Ooh, goodie, handholds for zero gravity.
Holstering her pistol, she wiped the knife blade on her uniform pants leg and then gripped the handle between her teeth as she climbed silently up the ladder. Once she reached the handholds, she climbed like an upside-down-monkey along the tunnel’s ceiling, halting just as the corner was reached.
Peeking around the corner, she spotted the two men. They’d obviously heard her talking, and now they awaited her. The good news was, they were merely humanoids.
The bad thing was they looked meaner than shit. Oh well, the bigger and nastier they were, the harder they fell. A laser shot to the head of the big one would even the odds.
She’d have to drop and fight the second one, since the initial advantage of surprise would be lost when she made her position known.
Taking her pistol out, she zeroed in on the forehead of the big blonde man.
* * * *
“What is she doing?” Wulf lunged toward the access panel that led to the tunnels and would have ripped it off its hinges if his brothers hadn’t held him back.
“You can’t go in there. You’ll get killed by the trap,” Huw yelled, avoiding the elbow Wulf threw at his jaw. “Trust in Melina. She can take them.” He roared and tossed his brothers aside then reached for the door again.
“Stop it, Wulf,” Maren ordered, placing his body between Wulf and the door. “Or I’ll have you sedated. Do you want Melina to meet you the first time as you lie unconscious and in restraints?”
Wulf shuddered as he shook off his lava-hot rage. “I’d bet you’d do it, too.” Maren nodded. “Yes, I would. Melina would not thank you for getting yourself killed.” He pointed to the screen. “See, one man is dead. The other soon will be. Watch and learn.” The amused older man then added, “And I would lose the I-am-your-lord-and-master tone of voice with her. She will not appreciate it. She is a warrior and leader in her world.”
“She is Prime and my mate,” responded Wulf bluntly.
“Ah, that is a mere fact of biology,” said Maren as he watched the screen with a slight smile on his face. “You need to add to those facts. She was raised by two Terrans who, to all accounts, loved her and gave her the best of everything. She was trained by the greatest military presence in the galaxy, besides the Prime, of course. And she commands more soldiers than you. She is more than a gemate, Wulf. You’ll have to accept that so that she will accept the biology.”
Wulf merely grunted as he watched his tiny Melina finish off the smaller man with an efficient slit to his throat and then calmly wiped the blood off on her already bloody uniform.
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he shook off the lingering remnants of his rage—
and fear. The connection between Melina and him that awakened upon her proximity and the sound of her voice was strong. He felt her satisfaction at successfully eliminating two more of the enemy. He also sensed her caution—and her pain and exhaustion—and her determination to reach him and his crew.
Pride in her strength and courage threatened to choke him. She was a miracle. His miracle. And he would protect her whether she liked it or not.
He did not like being afraid.
Returning to the master computer panel to work on reprogramming the last trap, the deadliest trap, he snarled, “Someone find my mate some clean clothes. She’ll need something to wear by the time she gets here.” Then he muttered, “I’ll be damned if she wears bloody clothes around me.”
Someone laughed. Wulf looked around for the guilty party, but saw only blankly schooled faces.
* * * *
Mel saluted the camera. “Thanks for the two clicks. It helped.”
“No problem, Melina.” Iolyn replied, not Wulf.
“Iolyn, what happened to your grouchy brother?”