There.
A whimper. A soft cry of anguish.
Willow.
I reached for my weapon and moved into a crouch along the wall next to her bedroom door.
She cried out again, softer this time. More like a sob.
Whoever was in that room, hurting her, was going to die a slow, agonizing death.
Fuck that. I’d rip their head off. Sometimes, faster was better.
I waved my weapon in front of the sensors and held my breath as the door slid open with a very soft, swishing noise.
I braced for attack.
Nothing.
With one powerful movement I leaped into her room and scanned the area for threats.
There was only Willow, still dressed in her uniform, boots on the floor next to the bed, ion blaster peeking out from under her pillow. Her body was curled into the smallest, tightest ball she could manage.
She shivered, as if freezing. The room was not cold. I’d made sure of that when Bastion and I discussed sleeping arrangements.
“What the fuck?” Bastion’s course whisper came from behind me. I spun to find him in a nearly identical stance, weapon ready. “I heard her. What’s wrong?”
I shook my head and answered in a nearly imperceptible whisper. Bastion would hear me, the incredible number of Hive integrations in his body not only made him stronger, they amplified his natural senses to an incredible level. “I do not know.”
We both stretched to our full heights in the dark and put our blasters away, careful not to make a sound.
“Is that a blaster under her pillow?”
“It is.”
“What female sleeps with a weapon?”
I sighed. Perhaps one who had been captured and tortured by the Hive. A female with a mate who had betrayed her. One who did not feel safe.
Rather than give away Willow’s secrets—she had not mentioned her captivity to anyone else as far as I knew—I shrugged. “She was a law enforcement officer on Earth. She told me she carried a weapon. She is very skilled. Better accuracy than most warriors.”
“What?” Bastion looked at her, where she lay curled up on top of her bed and whispered back to me. “She’s too small. What idiots would allow her to risk her life in such a manner? No criminal would fear her.”
“Ask Captain Mills. His mate is small as well, and serves in the I.C.”
“Humans do not make sense to me.” After another long look at Willow—who whimpered yet again—he lifted his eyes so our gazes met and held. “Take care of her.”
He turned and left the room. The door slid closed, sealing me inside as a new, tangy scent filled the air. Salt? Tears?
Did Willow now cry in her sleep?
Careful not to wake her, I slipped the weapon out from under her pillow, made sure she couldn’t kill me before she knew what she was doing, and put it back in place. I wanted her to feel safe, not threatened by a hulking Prillon warrior looming over her in the dark.
No, looming was not what I intended. But I could not bear to hear her suffering. Nightmares haunted all of us, especially those who had seen battle.
I crouched down until my face was nearly even with hers and whispered her name in the dark. “Willow. Wake up.”
Nothing. She cried out, the sound an agony in my soul. If I ever found the Nexus unit who had captured and tortured her, I would tear him apart piece by piece.
