Armor-piercing blasts flared and would have ripped him to shreds had Maris not acted.
But it wasn’t until Darling moved that he realized Maris had been wounded.
Badly. At least a dozen rounds had hit him. Most didn’t penetrate his armor, but three were definitely embedded in his body.
“I’m all right,” Maris assured him in a strained tone. “Nothing major pierced… Except… my battlesuit.” He stepped back to glance down at it and let out a sound of extreme anger. “Would you look at what those bastards did? They ruined it! Handmade, Phrixian silk. Do you know how hard this is to come by? And the blood is impossible to get out of it, especially after it’s soaked in.” He straightened up and Darling was sure he was glaring at him from underneath the helm that hid all his features. “And you wonder why I hate battle so much.” He gestured down to his torn battlesuit. “You see!”
Darling laughed in spite of the danger. “You’re insane, Mari.”
“Ha! It doesn’t matter how you feel so long as you look good while you feel it.”
“We need to get you out of here.”
Maris fisted his hand in the fabric at Darling’s shoulder and held him by his side. “Not without you.”
Darling growled at him. “You’re such a stubborn bastard. I really hate you.”
“I hate you, too…”
Wanting to strangle him, Darling moved forward, down the hallway, blasters out so that Maris could check the doors behind him. But just as he neared the end, he realized the mistake they’d made…
“Do you hear that?”
Zarya could barely understand Ture’s words. Something kept buzzing and it wouldn’t stop. “Hear what?”
A blast hit their door. At first she thought she imagined it. Until it struck again.
And again.
Could it be…?
You’re dreaming. It’s not real. Just a hallucination brought on by your fever and pain.
In her mind, she imagined Darling carrying her out of this nightmare like he’d done when she’d sprained her ankle in the kitchen. I swear, if I get out of this alive, I will never leave the palace again.
An instant later, the door lifted. Smoke billowed into the room, filling it instantly. She choked and coughed, trying to breathe around it.
Ture tightened his arms around her, holding her close as two League soldiers spilled into the room. Preoccupied with whatever was happening in the hallway, neither of them looked back at them.
“Grab the woman!” someone shouted from outside the cell. “We have to have her or we can’t leave.”
The two soldiers turned around.
Zarya’s heart pounded as she tried to understand what was happening. Why they wanted to take her again. Aching to the point it hurt to breathe, she didn’t move until they closed in on her—in their hurry, they’d forgotten to handcuff her.
Their mistake.
She reverted to her strict training. Grabbing the blaster from the first one, she used it to shoot his partner. Shrieking, the soldier went down.
Before she could move, the one she’d grabbed brought his fist down across her face. The room spun, nauseating her.
Ture lunged at him and slammed him back against the wall as more soldiers poured into the room.
Zarya fought as hard as she could, but she was injured and outnumbered. Still, she didn’t let it daunt her.
There were more battle sounds out in the hallway.
A new group of soldiers rushed her and Ture. She leveled her blaster at them and pulled the trigger, only to discover it was out of charges.
Turning it around in her hand, she intended to use it as a blunt object against their heads.
But the men didn’t make it. Before they could reach Ture and her, blasts struck them and sent them to the ground at their feet.
A second later, the smoke cleared enough to show another soldier coming inside to check on the League soldiers who’d fallen.
He’d barely stepped inside before he was attacked by three more League soldiers. With skills that defied description, he turned and caught the first one with a blow so hard, he shattered his attacker’s nose. The next, he flipped and stabbed and when the third saw what awaited him in the bodies that were littered all over the room, he turned around and retreated.
The newcomer turned to face them.
He wasn’t with the Sentella. Her heart sank as she saw the burgundy battlesuit with foreign markings she couldn’t identify.
Unable to fight him, she prayed this was an ally and not another enemy out to do more damage to her and Ture.
Bleeding profusely from several wounds, he froze the instant he caught sight of her. Then he spoke in a language she didn’t recognize.
Although… there was something vaguely familiar about it.
Where have I heard it before?
More blasts ricocheted in the hallway behind him.
In one smooth, impressive move, the soldier hit the floor, slid on his knees and spun around to shoot the three League guards who ran in behind him. He rolled over and came to a stop by her side.
“Zarya?”
Tears filled her eyes as she recognized that deep voice. “Maris?”