Lost in Barbarian Space(49)

A slight nod. “But if they hurt you again, I’ll end them.”

She breathed deep, the scent of him filling her senses. They had a mission to complete, but she knew that after this was over, leaving this man would shatter something inside her.





Chapter Thirteen




Colm was barely holding on to his sanity.

His nanami were screaming through his body, crazed. His senses were fully expanded. He could hear every noise the pirates were making, even the rush of blood in their veins, and it was driving him mad.

No. He had to stay conscious. Stay sane. He had to protect Honor.

Protect his mate.

He closed his eyes. It felt so right…she made his nanami sing. She made him feel whole and powerful.

He opened his eyes. His gaze fell on the droid and he saw it pause. It moved toward a narrow tunnel entrance ahead. The pirates paused at the entrance, murmuring amongst themselves.

Alara nodded her head. “Shank. You go first.”

One tall pirate with long hair halfway down his back squeezed inside. He had to turn sideways to fit. The droid floated in behind him.

One of the pirates nudged Honor to go next, and she slipped inside. Colm pushed forward to go in so he wouldn’t be too far away from her. He also turned sideways, and for him, it was a very tight fit. The ice scratched along his skin.

They moved along the narrow space, the pirates’ lights flashing through the dark tunnel. Then Colm bumped into Honor. She’d stopped.

She was staring at the wall beside them.

Artifacts hung, encased in ice.

“Ooo, lookee here.” Alara jostled forward. “Cut ’em out of there.”

Colm and Honor were jostled further down the tunnel so the pirates with laser cutters could get in close to the artifacts.

It didn’t take them long to cut them out.

“Junk.” One pirate tossed an ancient artifact—what looked like a ceramic plate—over his shoulder, and it hit the ice, shattering into pieces.

“Crap.” Another one threw what looked like an item of clothing behind her.

“This stuff might not be valuable, but we’re getting close,” Alara said. “There’s treasure here. Keep moving.”

They came out of the narrow tunnel into a large cavern. Here, the walls were mostly white, and the ground was uneven, churned-up ice. Colm stared at it. It didn’t look quite right.

Ahead, the group of pirates move forward, crossing the space.

Colm and Honor followed at a slower pace. A second later, he heard a quiet creak from above.

“What is it?” Honor whispered.

“I’m not sure…”

The next instant, a huge hunk of ice slammed down from the roof and shattered across the floor ahead of them. The pirates started shouting.

More hunks of ice of all sizes rained down.

“Cave-in!” someone shouted.

As the pirates scattered in all directions, Colm grabbed Honor’s arm. They ran, ice hammering down around them.

As a sizable slab of ice smashed into his shoulder, Colm grunted. He pulled Honor in close, shielding her with his body.

Two steps ahead of them, a massive hunk of ice—the size of a hargon beast—slammed down right on top of a pirate.

Colm pivoted at the last second, his feet sliding out from under him. He held Honor tight against his chest as they skidded across the icy floor. As they hit the wall, he turned, covering her body with his own.

The ice continued to rain down for several minutes, and then, it stopped.

Slowly, he raised his head. Honor did the same.

She smiled at him. “Thanks.”

From nearby, Alara was coughing. “Fuck me.” Then the pirate leader went still, her gaze on the far wall. “By a space whore’s fat ass.”

He followed Alara’s gaze and saw that the ice fall had cracked the wall ahead.

Nestled in an exposed cavity was the wreck of a starship.

For a second, Colm felt quiet amazement. This was the ship of people who’d come along with the First Warriors. His ancestors.

The pirates had forgotten Colm and Honor. As a group, they climbed up and crawled into the hole, closer to the wreck.

“Nik will go nuts for this,” Honor said quietly, her face grim. “We need to find a way to keep these scavengers off it.”

Colm agreed. The ancient travelers who’d died on this ship hadn’t made it to Markaria, but they were inextricably linked to the First Warriors. He felt he owed it to them, and their memory.

“Ideas?” he asked.

“They’re down to five.” She scowled at the droid. It was hovering silently off to the side. “The syndroid is the wildcard. There’s no telling what kind of weapons it has.”

“I can destroy it,” he said darkly.

She grabbed him. “You’re not impervious to heavy lasers or explosives. Don’t underestimate it.”