she said with a dejected sigh, “that does it. I’m officially throwing in the wet blanket.”
Uh, what? Maybe it was his injured state, but he so did not understand what she’d just said. “Throwing in . . . the towel?” Maybe.
She must not have caught his words, because she launched into a desperate rumble of words. “I give as much as I’m able, and I sacrifice as much as I’m able, and I sometimes endanger myself, and yet no one thinks twice about ruining my life further. So, fine, whatever. I’ll go with you. I can’t stop you from escaping without using your injuries against you.”
“Thank you,” he said, and he meant it.
“But when you’re captured, and you will be,” she continued, “I’ll be sure to mention how you overpowered me. The last man who laid a hand on me lost it. Jecis chopped it right off. And then, to really prove his point, he chopped off the other one. And I won’t even mention what will be done to me!”
“How kind of you.” As she spoke, he kept a firm grip on her and ushered her to Kitten’s cage. “But nothing will be done to you. I’ll make sure of it.”
From the otherworlders, the demands for freedom became pleas for help. As loud as they were, another guard would soon be called. He didn’t want to waste precious time having Vika free them. Although . . . if Jecis and company discovered Solo’s abduction of Vika, they’d have other people to chase, other tracks to follow, buying Solo more of the time he needed.
Cruel of him? Maybe. But also a mercy. They would be free. If the situation were reversed, he would want to be released for any reason, even that one.
He switched direction, approaching the cage closest to him.
“Thank you, Blue Eyes,” Vika said, her tone dripping with relief. She must assume he intended to walk back into his own prison. “Thank you. You won’t regret this. I have plans, and if you can just hold out for—”
“My name is Solo,” he interjected, making sure she was looking up to watch his lips. She had plans? What kind of plans? And was she fond of men with blue eyes?
That last question irritated him greatly. Why should he care?
“Solo.” A grin lifted the corners of her lips. “Nice to meet you.”
He would have sworn the sun had just broken through a thick shield of rain clouds, lighting her entire face. He wanted her to smile every second of every day . . . but her soft amusement died a quick death the moment he stopped in front of the Mec’s cage.
Dread radiated from her. “You’re going to free everyone, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Trust me. You don’t want to do that. Please!”
“I must,” he repeated.
Though she tugged and tugged and tugged, he forced her to place her thumb against the lock. The moment the two halves parted, the Mec burst free. As overjoyed as he was, his skin glowed a bright blue. Foolish otherworlder. He would never be able to hide that way.
“You’re all dead,” Vika said, emotionless. “You, me, all of them. We’re all as dead as . . . things that are dead.”
“I will protect you.” He stumbled over his own feet and barely managed to right himself. But he meant those words with every fiber of his being. He wanted her safe. Now and al— Oh, no. He wasn’t going there. He wanted her safe. For now.
He stopped, peered into her eyes, and again said, “I will protect you.” This time he added, “I vow it.”
She didn’t jolt, as any other would have, and that astonished him. Maybe it was because she couldn’t hear his voice, he reasoned. Maybe it was because he was drugged and in such a weakened condition. Whatever. Didn’t really matter, he supposed. A vow was a vow, and he’d just tied himself to her.
A sigh slipped from her and she nodded. “Okay. I’ll trust you.”
Solo walked her to the next cage, and this time she offered no resistance whatsoever.
“Hey, you. Stop,” a guard shouted in the distance, and Solo wasn’t sure if the command was issued to him or the Mec.
Either way, there was no time to liberate the others. Kitten, yes, but not the others. He would have to come back for them. He dragged Vika to the girl’s cage, and she placed her thumb against the lock’s ID without any prompting from him.