Chapter 15
Beck put up a fight, but he was too vastly outnumbered. Already disarmed, Alisa could not help at all. The pirates searched them, removed their weapons and valuables, hoisted them all over their broad armored shoulders, and took them out of the Nomad and into a bay the size of a hangar in the air yard back on Perun. Four dirigibles could have fit in it with room to spare.
Alisa found herself twisting to give the freighter a long look as they traveled away from it. When she had first decided to find it and refurbish it for the trip to Perun, she hadn’t liked the idea. She hadn’t wanted anything to do with the Nomad. But flying it this last week had stirred up old memories, memories of more than learning of her mother’s death. There had been memories of the past and of good times growing up in the ship, of going on adventures with her mother and of meeting interesting people and seeing interesting places.
As her captors passed another ship and the Nomad disappeared from sight, Alisa felt a twinge of distress that had nothing to do with her injuries. She was afraid she wouldn’t see the freighter again, and that disturbed her more than she would have expected.
As they traveled through the vast mining vessel, Alisa tried to note their route so she could find her way back later. Unfortunately, she did not have the best view as she flopped about on her captor’s shoulder, her pain renewed as the armor banged against her injuries. But she had a sense of massive rows of mining equipment, of an indoor smelter with robots processing metals, and of huge storage rooms of unprocessed ore. Now and then, flying robots zipped overhead on some errand or another.
They seemed to walk a half a mile before they reached corridors filled with what she assumed were crew quarters and the main living areas. All she saw were pirates and more pirates wearing all manner of scruffy clothing with all manner of weapons hanging from their belts. Many of them had scalps dangling from those belts, even boys who could not have been more than thirteen or fourteen. Alisa wondered if Malik truly meant to spare her people’s lives long enough for them to reach some slave auction. And how insane was it that such a fate sounded like an improvement over their current situation? Slaves. What a crazy notion. Slavery had always been outlawed in the empire. She couldn’t even imagine life toiling for someone else with no freedom to be found.
But it was life, and if she was kept alive long enough to be sold, she could find a way to escape. One way or another, she would make it back to her daughter. Of course, she would prefer to do it with her ship and to escape sooner rather than later.
Her captors turned into a narrow corridor with old-fashioned iron bars lining the fronts of a dozen cells. Still dangling from a man’s shoulder, Alisa glimpsed unfamiliar people packed into almost all of them. Most had contusions, scrapes, and other signs of injury. Some of the women were naked. Her gut twisted with unease as she remembered how the one pirate had shown an undue interest in her ass.
A pirate stopped in front of one cell and leaned a garishly beaded earstar toward a reader while others moved to cover him with rifles. The chip in the wall chatted with the chip in his personal device, and the iron bars slid up into the ceiling. Alisa found herself dumped inside, her wounds protesting anew and eliciting a gasp of pain. She rolled to a stop in front of a familiar gray robe as the bars slid back shut. The pirates left without a word.
Alejandro helped her to sit up.
“I’m afraid I can’t say I’m happy to see you here, Captain,” Mica said—she sat against the wall, her knees drawn up and her arms hugged around them.
“Not happy to see you two here, either.” Alisa started to scoot toward a wall as Beck and Yumi were ushered in behind her—she needed something to lean against for support.
Alejandro stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “Captain, I must ask.” He glanced toward the bars, but the pirates had already shuffled away. He also glanced toward a corner of the ceiling where a dark round smudge might have been a camera. Or a squashed spider. “I must ask,” he whispered, “did they loot the ship?”
“Mica’s ruse fooled them,” Alisa said. “They left in a hurry.”
He slumped back against the wall.
“None of our equipment was scrounged as far as I saw,” she said, “but the Nomad is stuck in their docking bay, I’m afraid. Oh, and I watched the video footage when I was trying to figure out where you all went. They did steal our duffel bags, probably stuffed in whatever looked valuable in our rooms. Which wasn’t much in my…” She trailed off, the horrified expression on Alejandro’s face making her stop.
He lurched to his feet, almost tumbling over her in his agitation. “Shit, shit, shit.”
He paced to the wall, slapped it, and pushed off and paced in the other direction. There was only room in the tight space for four steps. A handful of gaunt, bearded men in the cell opposite from them watched him with hollow eyes.
“Is he allowed to swear when he’s wearing that robe?” Mica asked.
“I don’t fully know the rules,” Alisa said, watching his agitated pacing. She supposed this was not the time to ask him to look at her punctures and gashes. They didn’t have a first-aid kit, anyway.
Alejandro gripped his hair, then shoved his fingers through it with both hands as he turned again. He muttered furiously to himself, and Alisa only caught snatches, “…get caught up in this… a fool… shouldn’t have trusted… fail. Failure. Can’t fail.”
Alisa did not know what to say, or if she should say anything. She already felt guilty for getting everyone involved in this. Oh, Leonidas was truly the one to blame, but she had known they would be taking a detour when she invited her passengers on. And she hadn’t been up front with them. She had waited until they were underway to announce that the Nomad would be heading out to the T-Belt. And now this. If they didn’t find a way off this ship, the time lost for the detour would be the least of their problems.
“Where’s our cyborg?” Mica asked as Alejandro continued to pace.
“Communing with his own kind,” Alisa said. She looked at Yumi, half expecting her to lose her composure the way Alejandro was. At the least, Alisa expected one of her passengers to curse at her and make accusations. She surely deserved them.
But Yumi had found a corner of the cell and was sitting cross-legged, her eyes closed as she practiced some breathing exercise. Interesting time to meditate.
Alejandro stopped in front of one of the walls, placed his palms on the drab gray metal, and thumped his forehead against it. Maybe Yumi could teach him to meditate.
“What’s that mean?” Mica asked.
“Turns out the pirate leader is someone in matching red armor,” Alisa said, scooting over to sit against the wall beside her. “Oh, and they know each other. Malik is the leader’s name, but he calls himself Sublime Commander. He called Leonidas Colonel.”
Alejandro was still leaning his hands against the wall, his head down, but he rotated his neck to look at them.
“But I figure the doctor already knew that,” Alisa said. “That Leonidas was an officer high up in the Cyborg Corps.”
Alejandro dropped his head again. If he knew, he didn’t care. Not right now. What had he been carrying in that bag that was so important? Some secret plans that would magically bring the empire back to full power? That was an appalling thought, but probably a silly one. One man couldn’t undo what had happened, not when it had taken tens of thousands if not hundreds of thousands of people and fifty years of planning and four years of all out combat to bring down the empire.
“What does that mean exactly?” Mica said. “He’s not going to help us?”
“I don’t know,” Alisa said, “but he and Malik walked off practically arm in arm, and he didn’t look back at me. He seemed fine with the idea that we’d be sold into slavery.”
“Slavery?” Mica pointed a finger at Alisa’s nose. “Captain, this is why I’m always pessimistic. Bad things happen all the time. Good things are an oddity.”
“They certainly have been thi
s week.” Alisa let her head clunk back against the wall. It hurt, but not any more than the rest of her body. “Alejandro?” she asked carefully, worried that he would snap at her and blame her for all this. “If you know something about Leonidas that could help us… I mean, should he deign to visit us or if our paths should cross before we leave this ship, if there was something we could say to persuade him—”
“You mean to blackmail him,” Mica interrupted.
“Persuade him,” Alisa emphasized. “If there is something, I’d sure like to know so I could try to use it.”
“I would be open to blackmailing him,” Beck said. The pirates had removed his armor, and he almost looked small without it. It did not help that he wore a sad, defeated expression as he slumped against the wall.
“I only know him by reputation,” Alejandro said, looking at the wall instead of her. “He was around the capital from time to time, getting orders for his troops.”
“The Cyborg Corps?”
“The Cyborg Corps.”
“Was he in charge of them? All of them?”
Alejandro lowered his hands. “Do you have any thoughts as to how to get out of here?”
“Not yet,” Alisa said, surprised he was looking at her. “Why, did you expect some genius ideas to pop out of my head?”
“You’ve done satisfactorily so far. And you seem determined.”
“I’ve got a reason to be determined.” Alisa pictured her daughter’s face in her mind, wishing it hadn’t been so long since she had seen it in more than a photograph.
“Good. As do I.”
“Not just taking the tour of the system and spreading your religiosity then?” Mica asked.
“Not exactly. Though I can prepare a lecture or sermon for you later, if you feel the need.”
“I vote you lecture the pirates, Doc,” Beck said.
“Seconded,” Alisa said.
Yumi pressed her hands together in front of her chest and inhaled noisily through the back of her throat. Alisa wasn’t sure if that counted as a third or not.
Alejandro crouched in front of Alisa, looking her in the eyes. “I have to get my bag back, and we have to escape. There’s something in there—the pirates can’t have it. It cannot be permitted. Our escape has to happen.”
“I’m amenable to that,” Alisa said, though she questioned whether they would truly be able to find the pirates’ booty room in this giant ship. If she got out of this cell, she intended to beeline for the Nomad and pilot it out. Unfortunately, with that grab beam of theirs, it would not be easy. She did not want to escape the bay, only to be sucked back in again. No, they would have to distract the pirates and find a way to disable the grab beam generator. She already had a daunting task without promising to hunt for the pirates’ loot. She didn’t even know yet how they were going to get out of this cell.
“I’ll tell you what I know about Leonidas if you swear to help me get that bag. Swear it.” Alejandro sounded like a boy on the playground rather than a man in his fifties, but it was clear from his eyes that he was utterly serious.
Alisa licked her lips. Hadn’t she just been listing all the reasons why looking for a few duffel bags would be suicidal? Was satisfying her curiosity about Leonidas worth making this deal? She might never even see him again. Even though she would like to think he would not take up with a pirate, he had taken up with her, hadn’t he? Someone he clearly disapproved of, someone he had caught stealing cyborg implants to sell… This Malik had a lot more power and resources to get him to wherever he needed to go for whatever the next step in his quest was.
Aware of Alejandro looking at her, his dark eyes earnest and determined, Alisa took a deep breath. She hated to make false promises, but maybe she could somehow pull this off. With as many other things as had to go right for them to escape, what would adding one more detour to the list matter? Besides, if one of her people found the loot room and threatened to blow it up, maybe it would distract the pirates while the rest got to the ship. The brutes probably had a huge vault of goodies they had stolen from the miners and anyone else who had flown into their web.
Alisa looked through the bars toward their cellmates across the way, wondering if they might be a resource. Eight men were packed in there, and she had seen numerous people in the other cells too.
“If we can get out of here,” Alisa told Alejandro, “I’ll make sure we look for your bag on the way out. I promise.”
Alejandro frowned slightly, no doubt noticing that she had not exactly given a promise to get the bag back, but what could she do? She wasn’t in a position of power here. She wasn’t even sure why he thought she would be more likely to come up with a plan and lead an escape than he. He had to be twenty years older than she was, more experienced in life. But, she reasoned, perhaps not more experienced with getting out of jams.
“As long as we’re making promises,” Beck said, “can we promise to get my combat armor on the way out too? That’s the most valuable thing I’ve ever had in my life, and until my sauce line gets going, I reckon I’m going to have to fight for my tindarks. Can’t fight without a good suit.”
Alisa patted his shoulder. “Maybe they’ll be stored in the same place.”
“Just so long as some slimy pirate hasn’t claimed it for his own. I don’t like another man’s sweat in my suit.”
“I have nothing I need in my trunk,” Yumi said, “but if we can get it, I would also be pleased. After all, half of my fare is inside of it.”
“Can I say,” Alisa said, looking around at her little group, pleased that nobody was curled in a ball on the floor and moaning that the end was near, “that I’m glad that everyone is so certain that we are going to get out.”
“Not everyone,” Mica grumbled. “I expect we’ll be raped and tortured and made to watch, and that half of us will get killed before we get thrown into this slavery ring. And then the other half will wish they had been killed too.”
“Sounds like a good reason to expedite our escape then.” Alisa pushed herself to her feet.
Alejandro stood up next to her.
“About Leonidas,” she said, “should I work him into my plans or not?”
“I probably know less about him than you wish, but he’s known to be an honorable man.”
Alisa lifted her brows. She had already guessed that. The problem was that she didn’t know if Leonidas considered her honorable and worthy of helping out.
“His name is Colonel Hieronymus Adler,” Alejandro said. “I would guess Leonidas is a call sign, though he could have made it up on the spot. He was the commander of the Cyborg Corps for the first couple of years of the war. I’m not sure what he did after that—you have to understand that I wasn’t a military doctor, and I rarely interacted with soldiers—but I believe he may have done some special assignments for the emperor.”
“Oh.” Alisa didn’t know what else to say. If Leonidas had been the emperor’s special man, that meant he was even more of an enemy to her and the Alliance than she had realized. She definitely shouldn’t factor him into her plans or expect him to risk himself for people that he, too, would consider enemies. “Do you know what his mission is? Why he was so determined to go out to that research station? And if he was one of the emperor’s favorites, why was he stranded on Dustor?”
“He hasn’t confided in me. I don’t think he recognized me when we met or considered me someone who might be a confidant.”
Might be a confidant? Was Alejandro saying that he would help Leonidas if he could? Or just that they were both from the empire and could have stuck together?
“Do you think his mission is personal or that someone sent him out here? Is it like Malik said, that the cyborgs were drawn to the research station because they wanted upgraded parts?”
Alejandro hesitated. “After the emperor was killed, I don’t think there was anyone left back home who could have sent him on a special assignment.”
Alisa held back a frown, though she noted that hesitatio
n. Did that mean he was lying?
“So, you think his mission is personal?” she asked.
“I have no way of knowing.”
“All right.” Alisa walked the three steps to the bars, not sure she had gotten any useful information in exchange for her promise. Just Leonidas’s name and confirmation that he was someone she should go on hating, or at least thinking of as an enemy. If he had truly been that high up in the fleet chain of command and that close to the emperor, having him roaming around free out here was a dangerous thing for the Alliance.
She nodded toward one of the men across the way who looked over at her movement. She tapped a bar to make sure it wasn’t charged with electricity, then draped her arms around them. “Any chance you fellows would like to chat?”
“Not unless one of you girls wants to come over and keep us company,” one of the scruffier men said. He was missing an eye. The wound looked recent. “Those bastards didn’t see fit to supply our cell with any women.”
Alisa had seen the women in another cell, and they hadn’t looked like they wanted to be molested by fellow prisoners. They had looked like they had already been molested enough. She shuddered, thinking of Mica’s pessimistic predictions. She needed information, so she forced herself to continue the chat, to be friendly.
“Any preferences as to which one?” she asked.
“You’ll do. They haven’t even uglied you up yet. Come on over.”
Alisa ticked the bar. “It seems the pirates don’t want us commingling.” She pressed the side of her face into the gap between the bars, peering as far up and down the hall as she could see. She spotted someone’s sleeve next to the exit. They had at least one guard.
“I don’t care what those mother-forsaken thugs want,” one of the other men grumbled. “I just want to get out of here.”
“How long have you been in that cell?”
“Months. Sparky and Phan are the only ones who get to go for walks now and then.” The speaker waved toward two men lying on one side of the cell.
“Why are they special?”
“Engineer and mechanic. The pirates aren’t a real educated lot. They’ve got no use for those of us who were just miners, but if something goes wrong with the ship, they come and collect someone who knows how to fix it.”
Alisa moved along the bars so she stood in front of the specialists. Aware of the guard and the cameras, she made a psst sound and waved, hoping one would come closer. One man did not acknowledge her at all. The other one glowered.
“You want them to move, you’ll have to show Sparky some tits,” the man she had been speaking with said, giving her a lurid wink.
“Actually,” someone else said, “I’ve heard Sparky would rather see the tits of her muscleman back there.”
Beck’s eyebrows flew up, and he touched his chest in a self-conscious gesture.
“I’ll arrange that if we all get out of here,” Alisa said.
“Really, Captain. That wasn’t in the job description.”
“I’m positive I asked for open-mindedness and versatility down in the fine print of my recruiting flyer.”
“Which of those things was supposed to imply I’d disrobe for other men?” Beck asked.
“The first, I think.” Alisa nodded to the glowering engineer. “Sparky, how often do they come get you?”
“Every few days. This ship is fifty years old. Things go wrong often, especially since they’re not caring for her like they should.” He sighed and ran the palm of his hand along the wall of his cell in a sad caress.
“And you fix the problems for them?”
“Don’t have much choice.”
“Have you ever thought of—” Alisa lowered her voice, “—creating a problem? Sabotaging something and using the diversion to escape?” She ticked the bars again. Unfortunately, they wouldn’t go away if the power went out. It was too bad the cells did not use typical forcefields.
“The last engineer had thoughts like that,” Sparky said. “They scalped him, then dumped his body into a vat of molten ore.”
“Did the last engineer have a pilot with a freighter in the bay, ready to give you a ride out?”
“Kiss that ship goodbye, girl. They’ve probably already scrapped it.”
Alisa forced herself not to shudder or be daunted by that idea. “So, you wouldn’t be willing to sabotage something the next time you’re out? Even if Beck took off his shirt and danced for you?”
“Captain,” Beck said in a pained voice.
Sparky shook his head.
One of the other miners said, “You’re not going to escape. You think everyone who gets shoved in here doesn’t think about it? Forget it. We’ve tried everything. Chances got even slimmer after the cyborg took over. The guards pay more attention, and you better believe they’re recording you right now. If you make trouble, they’ll kill you. Best to go along with things and hope for a good owner or a chance to escape once you’re sold on the auction block.”
The guard walked into view, as if to emphasize the miner’s point. He banged the muzzle of his blazer rifle against the bars in front of Alisa.
“Too much socializing down here.”
The miners turned away from him, their shoulders hunched. A few of them had holes in their shirts, revealing whip scars on their backs.
“You’re welcome to join in if you like,” Alisa told the guard. She doubted she could establish a rapport with him, but maybe she could get a few drops of information.
“With what?” the man asked. “Looking at your brute’s tits?”
“I’m amazed at how much interest there is in that.”
“Me too,” Beck muttered.
“Options are limited here.” The guard smirked.
“Say, Sparky, what kind of engine runs a ship this big?” Alisa asked.
Sparky looked at the guard, then gave her an incredulous look, as if he couldn’t believe she wanted to continue chatting with the man right there.
“A Molbydam 850,” Sparky muttered.
“Mica,” Alisa said, “that’s a smallish engine for a ship this big, isn’t it?”
Mica gave her a flat why-are-you-including-me-in-your-troublemaking look, but answered. “It’s the factory original for a Tolican Ore Driver. Nobody designed these ships to go fast. They just have to get their load from place to place.”
“This ship is fast enough,” Sparky said, sitting up. “Me and Hemm made plenty of modifications over the years, back when the company paid us well and didn’t make us sleep in cells with a bunch of sweaty men.”
“What kinds of modifications?” Mica stood up and joined Alisa at the bars. “I’ve seen a few ships blow up because some uneducated mechanics thought they were being clever.”
The guard seemed bored with the discussion and walked farther down the corridor, checking on the other cells.
“Keep talking to him,” Alisa whispered. “Make it sound like you know more about engines and this ship.”
“I do know more,” Mica said. “I grew up on a mining moon. I’ve seen every ship and configuration in the business.”
“Then it should be easy.”
“What should be?”
“Proving you’re the one the guards should select the next time they need something fixed.”
Mica’s eyes narrowed.
The guard ambled back toward them. Mica hesitated, but then launched into a lecture for the engineer, calling him a self-taught muck-for-brains who would likely get this ship blown up. Alisa gave her a surreptitious bright sun gesture, hand to chest, fingers splayed.
A door clanged open. Alisa hoped that meant a senior-ranking guard was coming, someone who might pass along word of Mica’s expertise if he heard about it. Instead, a familiar figure strolled into view. Malik.
The so-called Sublime Commander had removed his red armor and wore a sleeveless shirt that revealed thick arms and chiseled muscle, exactly what Alisa expected from a cyborg. He still wore the mottled black and gray unifo
rm trousers of an imperial soldier, along with a flat ID chip on a neck chain. A rifle was slung on a strap across his back, and a long knife hung from a sheath on his belt.
Seeing him up close made Alisa want to step back as adrenaline surged through her veins. She couldn’t help it. After the war, she feared someone like this far more than she ever would one of the grubby pirates. It didn’t matter that both could kill her in exactly the same way.
A second man walked beside Malik. Alisa wished it had been Leonidas. Even if she didn’t think he would be a savior, she had a notion of what to expect from him by now. But it was one of the pirates from the cargo hold. He had also changed out of his combat armor, but she recognized the voice when he exchanged a few words with the guard. It was the one who had wanted to have some fun with her. Great.
She hoped that Malik and his buddy had come down to hand out lunch and had nothing more inimical in mind. Unfortunately, neither one was holding a box of ration bars.
“You.” Malik pointed at Alisa, barely glancing at the others in the cell.
“Me?”
Alisa made herself step back up to the bars, not wanting him to see her fear and also wanting a glimpse down the corridor. Had Leonidas come on this visit? Did he know about this visit? Where was he, anyway? When the two cyborgs had met, she hadn’t gotten the impression that Malik would do anything to make him disappear, but what did she know? Maybe what he had offered Leonidas had been a lie, and he had shot his old commander in the back as soon as he had a chance.
“Got a few questions for you,” Malik said, giving her that discomfiting half smile.
“I expect I know a lot less than you think.” Alisa couldn’t imagine what he thought she knew. Unless he had a question about the Star Nomad—and why would they?—she wouldn’t be the person to ask.
“We’ll find out,” his subordinate said, leering at Alisa’s breasts.
Malik thumped him in the chest. On the surface, it looked like a friendly thump, almost something done between buddies, but the force of it made the pirate stumble back and bump his shoulder blades on the bars across the way. Too bad none of the miners were poised to take advantage. One might have jumped forward, wrapped an arm around his throat, and broken his neck. Not that they would win an uprising with Malik there, but everyone here seemed so complacent, so accepting of their fate. Alisa wished they would fight, if only with words and spirit.
“Not until later for that, Bruiser,” Malik told his subordinate.
Bruiser. What a name.
“Sooner might help get her talking,” Bruiser said, leering again. “I can be forceful.”
The guard smirked. Malik just looked at him like he was an imbecile.
“Open it,” Malik told another guard that Alisa couldn’t see, someone near the door at the head of the corridor.
That meant there were three men and a cyborg out there. Unfortunately, Alisa did not see how her people could come out on top, even if they got a chance to charge out. If Malik hadn’t been there, maybe.
A clank sounded in the ceiling, and the grid of bars disappeared into holes up there. Malik reached for Alisa. Beck pulled her back and tried to step in the way. The guard stepped forward, pointing his rifle at him. Beck lifted his hands, as if to show he was only interested in putting himself between Alisa and Malik, then kicked out before that muzzle fully pointed at him. The rifle flew upward, and Beck flung himself at the man.
Malik lunged forward, moving too quickly to track. He caught Beck by the throat, halting his charge before it got far.
“Don’t,” Alisa yelled, reaching for Malik’s arm, knowing he could snap Beck’s neck easily. “Please.”
Malik paused and looked at her, his fingers wrapped around Beck’s neck but not squeezing all the way. Beck bared his teeth and grabbed his assailant’s forearm with both hands. The cyborg barely seemed to notice.
“He is your lover?” Malik asked Alisa.
“My security officer. I pay him to protect me from thugs. Whatever he does is my fault, so you should blame me, not him. Not his neck.”
Malik snorted. “Whatever you pay him, it’s too much.”
Beck grabbed his forearm and tried to kick him in the balls, but the cyborg lifted one thickly muscled thigh, blocking the attack easily. Alisa made a cutting motion, hoping Beck would pay attention. The odds were too ridiculously against them as long as Malik was there. Besides, she might be able to learn something if they took her someplace for questioning. Assuming she could avoid Bruiser’s attention.
“Did you hire the colonel too?” Malik tilted his head, watching her as he avoided everything Beck attempted.
“No.” Alisa figured she shouldn’t imply any relationship between her and Leonidas. She wasn’t sure if there was one, but just in case, she would not thwart whatever plans he might have. “I didn’t even want him on my ship.”
Malik snorted again. “Because he’s a cyborg.”
“Mostly because he’s imperial and I’m not. Fire and water, you understand.”
“Nobody’s imperial anymore. The war’s over.” Malik flung Beck away from him with no more effort than if he were tossing a wadded up ball of paper into a trash bin. Beck was hurled through the air, knocking Alejandro over before landing hard in the corner. His head struck the wall, and he slid down.
Alisa started toward him, worried that might have broken his neck after all, but Malik grabbed her before she could take more than a step. He yanked her into the corridor with enough force to take her from her feet. Fresh pain came from all the day’s injuries, and she clenched her teeth to keep from gasping. She tumbled against his chest, loathing that he could pull her around like a doll.
“Shut it,” Malik said.
The bars clanged back into place, separating Alisa from her people. Bruiser looked her up and down with a contented smile.
“Where are we going?” Alisa asked, focusing on the cyborg instead of the lusty creep. She feared Malik, there was no doubt about that, but at least he did not act like a sexual predator.
“Bruiser and I are going to have a chat with you.” A gleam of pleasure entered his dark eyes, and she wondered if she’d been too quick to judge his subordinate as the more vile person. “This way.”
Malik shoved her down the corridor with the gentleness of a jackhammer.