She turned her head, then jerked the metal hard, cutting a jagged slash down the beast’s belly. It took two wobbly steps and collapsed. Mal managed to just roll out of the way.
Phew. She stayed where she was, lying flat on her back, and stared up at the stars appearing in the night sky. She saw a nebula—bright and pretty.
Definitely not on Earth.
With a sigh, she staggered to her feet.
Ow, she really, really hurt now. Her skin was tingling, and her headache was approaching monstrous proportions.
On the ground, the beast moved weakly.
No, you don’t. She lifted her piece of metal and smashed down on the creature’s head. Then again. And again. Damn, it had a thick skull.
Chest heaving, dizzy, she heard a roaring sound in her ears.
No, wait. That was the sound of an engine.
She turned and almost lost her balance again.
A rugged vehicle, unlike anything she’d seen before, rumbled into view. It looked like an ATV on steroids. It was tan colored with six huge wheels, and an engine that glowed bright blue at the back.
She lowered the chunk of metal and used it to lean on.
Doors on the side of the vehicle rose open, and several people climbed out.
Big, muscular people.
Oh, shit. They wore high-tech-looking suits in dark metallic gray, touched with some red. They all had “badass fighter” written all over them. There were five men and one woman. Each one was holding a weapon.
They stared at her, her ship, and then the dead beast.
A man strode forward.
A hell of a man.
Mal straightened. He wore a molded, metallic armor over his powerful chest with a medallion set in the center, and it showed every carved muscle in his torso and abdomen. Her gaze snagged on the corded muscles of his biceps, and he had thick bracer-like bands on his forearms. High-tech leather pants tucked into heavy boots and the hilts of two swords peeked over his broad shoulders.
He managed to look like some futuristic barbarian warrior come to life.
His steps were sure, unhurried, like a predator who knew he was the top of the food chain. He looked like he owned the place. Power throbbed off him, and she could feel it on her skin, like she’d gotten too close to a fire.
Liquid-silver eyes met hers. She felt the weight of that gaze, loaded with power and authority. The breeze made his longish, black hair dance around his face. That face. Mal felt every feminine instinct inside her sit up and do the rhumba. Strong jaw, rugged lines, aggressively masculine.
He said something in an unfamiliar language and gestured at the dead beast. His voice was deep, with a touch of sexy grit. It also had that confident, decisive ring to it that only people used to giving orders could pull off.
She rubbed her cheek. Oh crap, she was covered in blood.
“I have no idea what you’re saying—” she pointed at the beast “—but I killed that, yes.”
The man’s eyes churned like molten metal. He started talking again.
“Hey, big guy in charge, sorry to interrupt, but I’m going to pass out now.”
All of Mal’s strength left her. Her headache clamped on her skull with a claw-like grip, making her want to whimper.
As she pitched forward, the last thing she saw was the warrior lunging to catch her.
Chapter Three
Rhain lifted the woman into his arms.
She didn’t weigh as much as he’d expected. He didn’t recognize the design or color of her spacesuit.
His gaze traced over the strong lines of her face. She had a small scar that bisected her left eyebrow and a small, dark mark high on her right cheekbone. Before she’d passed out, he noted that she had unique eyes—a pale green, with gold flecks.
“Looks like remnants of a ship.” Thadd eyed the smoking wreckage.
“Scan it,” Rhain ordered. “She needs a medica.”
His captain lifted his wrist and touched his projecta band. Blue light projected up and Thadd swiped through it, then a beam of light shot out and scanned the smoldering ruins of twisted metal.
Narla, one of his fighters, stepped forward. She crouched by the dead hexid. “That female took down a hexid… With a hunk of metal.”
Yes, she had. Rhain shifted the unconscious woman’s weight. “I’ll get her aboard the rugger. Make it quick, Thadd, I want to get back to Citadel.”
The side of the rugger was open, and a fighter with a charged sword stood to attention, standing guard.
Rhain strode straight up the ramp and settled on one of the seats that lined both sides of the vehicle.
The woman stirred. He saw that she’d been clawed by the hexid and was bleeding. She bled red like them, but her musculature was not as dense as a Zhalton.
She wasn’t from here.
He fingered her brown hair. It felt like gossamer silk. Much finer than Zhalton hair.
Finally, his fighters boarded.
Rhain nodded at the driver. He felt a familiar flare of energy as the rugger’s engine powered up.
They set off across the green landscape.
“The scan?” Rhain asked.
“The ship was a mix of metals of some sort,” Thadd said. “Not particularly strong. No signs of nadian or craxma.”
The most common metals used in any vehicles or ships in the Sarkany system.
“So, she’s not from here.” That didn’t rule out her being one of his father’s agents. Zavir was smart and cunning.
“Her technology appears…primitive,” Thadd said.
“We’ll know more once she wakes.” Rhain looked down at her. It appeared that her nose had been broken once before and hadn’t healed correctly.
One thing was for sure, she was a warrior.
She’d survived a crash, and taken down a hexid alone.
That meant she was tough.
And dangerous.
Yes, Zavir knew Rhain well enough. Knew Rhain would render aid to someone in trouble, especially a woman. His father was clever enough to send a spy in who would slip under Rhain’s defenses.
He couldn’t allow that to happen.
He glanced out the rugger’s windshield. The last rays of the sun were almost gone. They were close to the Barrens here, and sometimes beasts slipped out to hunt. But in his head, he was remembering Renkitis Outpost. It had been a farming community, attacked by his father’s creatures a few days ago. They’d slaughtered everyone.
Rhain’s hands tightened on the woman, darkness stirring in his chest. No one killed his people and got away with it. If this woman was one of his father’s agents, she would die.
The vehicle jolted over some rough ground, but soon, they reached a main road to Citadel, and picked up speed.
He held the female fighter tighter. She made a small sound, her face pressed against the fabric of his armor. She had skin touched with gold, and very long eyelashes.
“Careful, Rhain,” Thadd said. “We have no idea who she is, or where she comes from. No idea how dangerous she is. It is very likely your father sent her. She could be Zhylaw.”
“She’s not Zhylaw.” The Zhylaw were smaller, more compact, with dark hair and dark eyes. They’d long ago stopped using their bodies for physical means, and depended more on their brains.
They weren’t warriors.