“You think to escape me, human?” the Erian snarled.
Well, shit. She’d forgotten all about the lizard as she’d tried not to vomit from the grisly mess she held over her body. Peering out from under the dead human, she saw that she had almost traversed the trap halfway.
Something grabbed her ankle. She chanced a look back. Lizard-breath’s frigging tongue had wrapped itself around her ankle. Damn, she hated pseudo-reptilian species.
Shifting even further under the dead, smelly and increasingly gooey human, she placed her knife on the ground and turned slightly to wiggle her laser out. It would be tricky, but she thought she could get a clean shot.
She aimed. One short burst of the laser and the tongue was decimated and her ankle merely scorched. Soft tissue had no chance against a laser.
The Erian’s howl was garbled.
“Hey, be glad it wasn’t your ugly dick,” she muttered. “That’s what I did to the last lizard I came across.”
Replacing the laser, she picked up her knife, stuck it back into its sheath, then shimmied harder. Just as she was about to stop and rest, Wulf yelled, “Get that apayebo off you. You’re safe now.”
Sighing with relief, she heaved the dead weight to one side as she rolled the opposite way. She came to rest, her forehead against the cool, clean metal wall. She loved the smell of metal—it didn’t stink like dead bodies—or her. She could just hug the floor and take a nap—she was that tired.
Nope, there was something she wanted more. She barely lifted her head. “Tell me there are showers and clean clothes in the engine room.” A deep masculine chuckle that she just knew was Wulf echoed off the metal tunnel walls. “No shower, but water and clean clothes.”
“That’s good,” she sighed as she lay still for just a little bit longer. “What next? The last trap off yet?”
“No,” Wulf said, his tones almost soporific to her senses. It was as if a gentle tropical breeze caressed her inside and out. He was calm now—as in calm before the storm? The man had more mood swings than a hormonal teenage girl. “But it will be. I will not let you take any more risks.”
There was that promise of possessive protection in his voice again. Oddly enough, she felt safe and secure instead of pissed off at the alpha-ness of it all. Captain Wulf Caradoc was on the job and things would be fine.
She shook her head. Yep, she must still be suffering from the lack of oxygen. She was the one to ensure other’s safety above her own. No one had ever taken care of her before—other than her parents.
Shakily, she pushed her way to her feet, then glanced back at the Erian who glared at her with hatred burning in his dying yellow eyes. “You know, someone will need to clear the trash out of this tunnel.”
“We’ll handle it.” Wulf’s tones reverted quickly back to the don’t-mess-with-me tone. “You’ve done enough.”
“Hey, I’m not volunteering. The job is all yours.” She headed in the direction of the engine room, using the walls to hold her up. “Tell me when to stop, okay?”
“Fifteen more meters. Then sit and rest. I’ll come in to get you when it is safe.” Mel walked to just short of the trap. It was a solid laser wall. “Well, shit. I think I’ll just follow that advice couched in the tone of an order. I’ll be holding up the wall when you get here.”
She was asleep by the time her head hit the floor.
Chapter Four
One large hand held her head as strong fingers gently shoved her face against the warmth of a firm male chest.
“Breathe, gemate lubha, ” a deep, raspy voice whispered against her ear. The tone of voice brooked no opposition.
“Wulf, is that you? Grouchy again, huh?” Mel sleepily snuggled closer and took in a deep breath. “Mmm, you smell good.”
More than that, he smelled dangerous. Exotic. Perfect.
Wulf’s aroma sent tendrils of an aching warmth throughout her body. Her heart thudded loudly in her ears, pacing itself to the heart beating beneath her head. Her breasts swelled and nipples puckered into tight achy buds as her womb wept in sympathy.
Some primal part of her brain blared: Unknown danger ahead!
She shifted and moaned. “What’s happening to me?” she whispered as she tried to rouse from a fog of exhaustion and pain—and lust.
“You are hurt, lubha. ” Wulf’s lips brushed her forehead with a kiss so gentle she wasn’t even sure there’d been one. “Hold on, we’re almost at the engine room. I’ll attend to your injuries then.”
“Why do you make me feel this way?” she grumbled, almost afraid to find out. No man had ever confused her this way, made her ache. Pain she understood and welcomed, since that meant she’d survived one more battle. But this aching was something unknown to her, something she feared she might not be able to dismiss.
Gathering her even more tightly to his chest, he murmured, “Put your arms around my neck. We have one more ladder and then we’ll be to safety.” One-armed, Wulf held her to him as he descended the ladder. She wound both arms around his neck, noting the softness of the midnight dark hair at the nape. Absently, she played with the thick, smooth tendrils as she curled into his chest even further. She felt safe. No one else had ever made her feel this way. It scared her.
A low very masculine chuckle swept over her skin, raising goose bumps. “You like my hair, lubha?”
She ignored him. Her answer would serve only to make him more conceited than he already was.
“I’ve looked forward to meeting you ever since my brothers told me about you.” While his words were superficially those of polite conversation, the emotion behind them poured off him in crashing waves. His feelings were so convoluted she couldn’t separate them, but underlying them all, a strong, strident base note tied them all together.
It was hunger, the primitive craving of a male for a female. A need she’d sensed between other couples, but not one she’d ever associated with herself. Not even Nowicki put off this much lust, and he’d wanted her for years.
Deciding she didn’t want to go there, she brought the conversation back to business.
The current-fricking-life-or-death situation. “You did turn off the self-destruct, didn’t you?”
“Yes, after we saw you in the tunnels.” His face turned into her disheveled hair. He inhaled deeply and a low husky groan rumbled past her ear. Nuzzling her, he whispered,
“We’ll talk about your body’s reaction to me—later—after we’ve regained my ship. I won’t let you ignore this topic, lubha.”
Mel stiffened. “I’ve no idea of what you’re talking about, Captain.” She stressed his title. She had to keep their interaction on a more formal level. They had a job to do.
“I know,” he said, amusement in his tones. “But you will know all—later. And I am Wulf to you. Not Captain. Do not forget that—ever.”
She shivered at his words. Somehow entering the tunnel had changed her life. And where the hell that thought had come from, she had no idea.
Wulf carried her through an open panel into the engine room. Ambassador Maren and Wulf’s two brothers met them. Their shock and concern at her condition swamped her. Yeah, something had happened when she’d boarded this ship. No, it was after she’d entered the tunnels. Her empathic ability worked overtime now and on the highest level she’d ever experienced. Not even in the midst of battle with all the emotions of the dead, dying and injured had she ever read emotions this accurately.
Mel smiled to reassure the three Prime males. “I’m fine.” Wulf’s snort of disagreement rustled through her hair.
Maren walked alongside as Wulf carried her toward a sectioned-off area of the cavernous engine room. Huw and Iolyn fell in, one in front and one behind, as if they were protecting Wulf and her. The other crew members, maybe forty in all, all Prime males, stopped their duties as their procession passed.
Senses blaring a red alert caused her already achy head to throb. The air smelled wrong—a foul stench caused her nose to wrinkle, overpowering Wulf’s disturbingly sexy smell. Something wasn’t right. Something in the atmosphere threatened her—threatened Wulf.
Dammit. She couldn’t tell where, what, or who. Maybe, she was just exhausted, or, possibly, it was the lingering remnants of the fear she’d been sublimating since she entered the tunnels.
She sniffed the air. No, she wasn’t imagining it. The malodor was strong, the strongest she’d ever smelled. Extreme hatred wafted on the subtle air currents in the large engine room. The objects of the rage were her—Wulf—and also Maren and the two other Caradocs.
Opening all six of her senses even further, she sought the source. She reveled in the strength and breadth of her newly attuned psi abilities.
Wulf’s body stiffened against her as if startled. Did he sense the danger now? She knew Prime were reputed to be able to do so.
She captured his gaze with her own. His eyes blazed golden fire. The emotions pouring off him read as a combination of shock and awe. His body and senses were one hundred percent centered on her—not his surroundings.
He couldn’t know what she could do. No way. He might read her emotions, but he shouldn’t be able to read her ability to sense the same. No one knew about her psi ability.