The tip of the knife broke and went twirling off into the darkness. Rona lifted the ruined blade and stared at it in disbelief. Around her, the three big men just laughed, and the one she had stabbed seemed to laugh the loudest of all. Rona could feel his voice rumbling up through his shoulder and vibrating deep within the pit of her belly.
“I had a feeling she was going to be a feisty one,” Aeron chuckled. “Murdok, would you please get that knife away from her before she hurts herself?”
The big, hooded Merc was so quick, Rona didn’t even see him move. In a blink he was standing behind Zeth, and his hand was clutching Rona’s wrist. He gave her a light pinch, and an electric impulse of pain zapped up her forearm.
“Ow!”
Her fingers lost their grip on the knife, and it tumbled through the air, winking crazily in the light. Murdok caught it with his free hand. A smile appeared within the shadows of his hood.
“Careful,” he said. “We don’t want you cutting your pretty little self.”
He tossed the knife to Aeron, who spirited it into one of the many pockets on his vest.
“Wanna do what you said before?” Murdok asked. “Take her back in that building and breed her in front of everybody?”
“No,” Aeron answered. “Not now. We’re already back at the ship. Let’s just take her aboard and get her properly secured. I’ll deal with her once we’re airborne.” He paused. “Actually, let’s let Murdok handle the woman. Zeth, I want you in the cockpit with me.”
Zeth made a reluctant sound, but he complied, and Rona found herself transferred from one big shoulder to another.
“Good,” Aeron said. “Come get me once she’s been secured. Oh, and Murdok?”
“Aye, boss?”
“Make sure to search her. Thoroughly.”
“Aye, boss.”
Rona could not see Murdok’s face, but she could tell by his voice that he was smiling.
CHAPTER 5
“Do you have anything that’s going to poke me, prod me, or stick me?”
Rona was alone with Murdok. As soon as the boarding ramp had closed, the other two Mercs, Aeron and Zeth, had headed for the cockpit. Rona, meanwhile, had been forced to ride Murdok’s shoulder in the other direction, toward the back of the ship. Along the way, she’d caught glimpses of a bedroom with bunks, a spartan bathroom, and an armory with racks of rifles, pistols, flamethrowers, grenade launchers, and other implements of destruction.
At last, they had arrived atthisroom, which Rona took to be a small cargo hold. It was empty, save for a large metal trunk in the corner and metal rings all along the walls. Rona guessed those rings were there as a way to strap down cargo during flight.
As soon as they had entered the room, Murdok had taken Rona off his shoulder and set her down on her feet. She was free to move again, but the door was already closed, and the big Merc had positioned his body in front of it, further hindering her escape.
“Hey!” Murdok growled. “I asked you a question, woman. Do you have anything in your pockets that’s going to poke me, prod me, or stick me?”
The menace in his voice sent a shiver racing up Rona’s spine. Somehow, being alone with this man was even more scary than being with the three Mercs together.
“No,” she answered.
“You’d better not. Now go stand against that wall there and don’t move. If you try anything clever, I’ll make you regret it. Understand?”
Rona understood. She did as Murdok told her and stood with her back against the far wall of the empty cargo hold. The air inside the room was nearly as stifling as the Common Hall had been, but Rona was shivering as if it were freezing cold. Murdok stood and regarded her for a moment, his augmetic eyes glowing within the shadows of his hood like the eyes of some nocturnal predator, a vulpire or a shadowulf.
Then he pulled the hood back, and Rona gasped.
If Aeron’s face was brutal, Murdok’s was downright oppressive. Angular and anvil hard, covered in scars and a coarse black beard so dense it looked as if it would require a diamond-edged blade just to trim it. As Rona watched in horror, a wicked smile appeared within the midst of that beard—twin rows of sharp, white fangs.
“Don’t be afraid, woman. I’m not going to hurt you… unless you give me a reason to.”
Rona didn’t find that particularly reassuring. At least it wasn’t Zeth she was alone with. She’d already given that one a reason to hurt her when she’d stabbed him with her knife. Ortriedto stab, rather.
She watched warily as Murdok went over to the trunk and knelt in front of it. The lid opened with a pneumatic hiss, and the Merc plunged his huge arms inside. After a bit of rummaging, he found what he was looking for and smiled.
