pressed into the flooring. Follow the hallway until the white door, Kossira said. But was it right or left to the grey door?
The Jetutian hovering over Laccara lost his balance with that last explosion and the device he’d poured the vaccine into tore from her flesh, dark blue blood spraying in its wake, and it skidded across the floor. Erin’s breath went shallow, seeing the black liquid leak from the tip of the needle. She needed to get to it.
Before she knew it, Po’grak lunged for Tavar, who was hurriedly unstrapping an unmoving Laccara from the table as the third Jetutian in the room reached for a blade at his hip.
This is my chance, Erin thought. As a fourth explosion rocked the spaceship, so much so that she thought it lifted from the ground only to thud violently back down, she used the distraction to push herself from the ground, the muscles in her weak arms almost giving out on her with the effort.
She lunged for the vaccine as Po’grak reached for Tavar. She heard a gasp of air and when she looked, Po’grak had a curved blade jutting from his side—right between the plates of his armor—just as the Jetutian lingering in the corner knocked Tavar off his feet.
Erin didn’t wait a moment more. She scrambled across the floor—keeping her grip on the vaccine—towards the door to the left. She threw it open, her heart thundering in her throat, and saw there was a darkened hallway stretching before her, the same circular pattern Kossira had drawn out printed into the floor. At the end of it, she saw Jetutian males racing past, but they didn’t see her. She kept to the shadows.
Without a backwards glance, as piercing, guttural yells and cries and the ringing of blades began to echo throughout the spaceship, Erin bolted down the hallway, the black device pressed tightly in her grip.
Chapter Forty-One
“Erin!” Jaxor called, his voice carrying across the hallways, over bloodied and dead Jetutians and Luxirians alike. Their blank, lax faces stared up at him as his belly coiled with dread.
Most of the battle had taken place outside, but had slowly spilled into the ship as they drove the Jetutians back, which was what they hadn’t wanted. Vaxa’an wanted the fighting outside, on Luxirian soil, so his warriors could storm the vessel afterwards with little resistance.
“Erin!” he called again, tearing through the vessel, checking every hallway, every room he passed.
Vrax, vrax, vrax, he chanted over and over in his mind, the panic rising. He refused to think the worst. She had to be on the vessel! He’d watched her step on board from the shadows of the forest, though Vaxa’an had to physically hold him back from storming after her.
He circled back, going down the second hallway that led to the main entrance of the vessel. One of the first rooms was the medical bay and he stilled when he came across it, cursing himself for not following this hallway first. Because once inside, he knew this was where Erin had been.
There were two dead Jetutians inside. Laccara was on a metal table, her limbs loose, her face slack. For a moment, he thought she was dead, but then he saw her chest rise and fall. Blood coated the walls, thankfully none of it red, so it wasn’t human blood.
Another pair of legs was sticking out from the other side of the table. Jaxor jumped over one of the dead Jetutians and he stilled when he saw it was Tavar.
There was a blade in his back. He was lying face down on the floor, blood pooled around him. When Jaxor rolled him over, he saw his eyes were open and unseeing.
Gone then, Jaxor thought, blowing out a short breath. Gone to the blackworld.
Jaxor rose, casting a glance at Laccara. She was alive. Tearing the Com band off his wrist, a communicator, but most importantly a tracker, he placed it next to Laccara. It was the best he could do for her—Vaxa’an would find her. But Jaxor wouldn’t risk Erin’s safety for her.
Turning from her, he scanned the rest of the room. His stomach dropped when he saw another trail of blood, this one leading from the medical bay to a different door on his left. Po’grak? he wondered.
It was entirely possible. Jaxor hadn’t seen him—or his body—all night. Had he carried Erin away from here? Or had she managed to escape and he’d followed?
His blood went cold and without another thought, he stormed through