Ivar's Escape (Assassins of Gravas #2) - N.J. Walters Page 0,48

flash of red in the distance. Balthazar was getting away. She started after him, but hesitated, something she’d never done before. He wasn’t the mission. Getting Ivar to safety was.

Ivar had other plans.

He burst out from behind her, firing at his captor as he ran toward him. Balthazar took a hit in the shoulder and lurched forward as blood burst from the wound, but he kept going, his massive body absorbing the strike.

A giant Barskan put himself between them and the retreating Balthazar. Where had he come from?

With his reddish tinged skin, black hair, and enormous size, he inspired fear. The bone-deep loyalty of his kind made him a perfect bodyguard.

Ivar fired the blaster. The Barskan’s body jerked but he remained upright. This bastard wasn’t going down easily.

“There’s another one somewhere,” she warned. There’d been a second one working at the bar, and they usually traveled in pairs. “Leave them. We need to go.”

The bodyguard fired on them. They dove behind a small space salvager. Breathing heavily, Delphi looked around to get her bearings. People were rushing into the hanger from town, drawn here by the explosion and fear for their vessels. For some of them, it was a way off the planet without having to pay Balthazar.

The first engine roared to life several docks down. The ship lifted off and disappeared into the clouds.

“Balthazar is gone.” Defeat tasted bitter, but his time would come. “We need to go.”

Ivar’s lips tightened into a frown but he nodded.

“Run.” She rose and moved as fast as she could. The entire station was in chaos. People rushed for their ships and their lives. Lungs and eyes burning, she kept going. “Hurry.” A sense of urgency was pushing her, her instincts screaming a warning. She slammed her hand over the security panel and the door slid open. “Inside. Now.”

It was as though everything slowed down. Ivar was running full out, chest heaving, nostrils flaring. The determination in his eyes flickered and turned to fear. She swung around. The Barskan was to her right, blaster raised. She swung up her weapon, even knowing she’d be too late.

Ivar hit her with the force of a battering ram, driving her through the open door. “Close,” she yelled. “Shields up. Prepare for takeoff.” His big body was a deadweight. “Ivar.” He didn’t move, didn’t make a sound.

Terror threatened to choke her. “No. No. No.” She shoved his torso to the side, threw her leg over his hip, and rolled, heaving him off her. Pressing her head to his chest, she prayed for a miracle. There! His heart was still beating.

“Computer, get us off this planet now.”

“Launching in three, two, one,” the computer informed her. She threw herself over him this time, protecting him as they ship rocketed up from the docking station. The small vessel jerked violently from one side to the other. “Taking fire,” the computer calmly informed her.

“Evasive maneuvers. Get us to G1. Open communications.”

“What’s going on?” Spear demanded. “We’re almost at Tortuga. There are ships everywhere.”

“Explosion. Ivar’s hurt.” He’d saved her life. Even though he had to have doubts about her, he’d thrown himself at her.

“How badly?” Spear’s voice was level, but she heard the undercurrent of worry.

She ran her hands over his body, not seeing any blood or major damage. “Unsure. He’s unconscious.” Her fingers probed his head gently. “Definite head injury.”

“Stay with him. I’m taking remote charge of your vessel and bringing you aboard ours.”

“Communications end.” There was really nothing more to say. She had no medibay on board this tiny vessel.

She lifted his head onto her lap and pushed the hair off his forehead. “You were supposed to let me protect you.” Her eyes burned. She rubbed them, ignoring the tears. “It’s just the smoke.” Her voice was a hoarse whisper. Her lungs squeezed tight.

Lowering her head, she pressed her lips against his temple. “Don’t die.” The pain in her heart hurt worse than any blaster hit. “You have to stay alive just so I can kill you for doing something so foolish.” Her words made no logical sense, but emotion never did.

She placed her hand on his chest, counting each heartbeat.

“Don’t cry.” His rough voice was the sweetest sound she’d ever heard. Giving a cry of pure relief, she hugged him hard, easing up when he winced.

“I’m not crying,” she insisted, even as a tear rolled down her cheek and plopped onto his face.

“I can see that. You’re okay?” He tried to sit up but winced.

“Don’t move. We don’t know how