As if in answer to her prayers, a bolt rifle skidded through the open doors, coming to a stop by her side.
Arin picked it up, checked the charge, then crept up to the edge of the door, where a narrow strip of wall protected her from sight and fire.
She peeked around the corner and quickly withdrew her head as a blast shot past and struck the metal bench in the center of the room, sending it careening off into a trolley of medical equipment.
Once again, she chanced a look. This time, she saw Rykal fending off two attackers. One of the guards charged him from the front, the other took the back, aiming his bolt rifle at Rykal’s head.
Rykal was fighting naked, and he’d taken hits. There were rapidly healing burn marks all over his body, and he wasn’t moving as quickly as was usual for him.
Perhaps he hadn’t yet recovered enough to be able to summon his full armor-suit. After all, the guy had just been hit withfournuclear missiles.
Arin raised her rifle and squeezed off a shot. It hit Rykal’s rear attacker in the back, and he collapsed to the ground.
Rykal managed to shoot her a grateful glance just beforehe took on the other guard, sustaining a point-blank shot in the chest as he grabbed the guard with his bare hands.
Rykal slashed his neck with his claws, and the guard went down in a spray of crimson.
And then, silence.
Just like that, it was over. It had all happened so quickly. Arin looked around the corner, then ran to Rykal as he dropped to his knees, his chest heaving.
His hands were coated in blood, but as Arin watched, the strangest thing happened. Swarms of black nanites rose to the surface of his skin and absorbed the blood, leaving not a single trace of it.
She shrugged. The bizarre sight didn’t bother her. Nothing much could shock her anymore, not after what she’d seen and done. As for the humans who had just gone down?
They weredefinitelythe enemy.
Rykal wasn’t her enemy.Never. Kneeling amongst the death and destruction he’d wrought, he looked up at her, and his gaze softened. His expression became tender as he reached out to her, his hands now smooth and clean, his sharp obsidian claws retracted.
“You protected me?” he murmured, a boyish smile gracing his dark lips.
“Just returning the favor,” Arin said, marveling at how good it felt to stand before him, even in the midst of all this carnage. He was the calm after the storm, even though hewasthe storm, the tempest, and the fucking hurricane.
Rykal’s smile faded. Disquiet flickered across his face, and his golden eyes narrowed.
“Rykal, what’s wrong?”
He gasped and looked down, a strangled sound of pain escaping his lips. “I…”
“Rykal?” Arin stepped closer, threading her fingers through his silken hair. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“I…” For some reason, he refused to look at her, his voice cracking as he bowed his head. “I remember everything.”
Arin heard pain and confusion in his tone. Rykal dropped his head into his hands, shaking it over and over again.
And Arin realized he was having the mother of all flashbacks.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Images flooded his mind. He was here with Arin, surrounded by dead humans, with her gentle fingers threading through his hair, but he was also back out on the Vaal, with his people.
He was Rykal Sarakunin, of the Aikun tribe, and he’d been stolen.
He’d loved to hunt. Amongst the boys his age, he’d been one of the fastest and most agile, fearlessly slipping into the frigid black depths of the Sleeping Ocean to huntlamperkwhen all the other children had been too afraid.
He’d been wild, and he’d been free.
He’d been an expert at catching the vicious wingedkuthlek, which were particularly delicious when roasted, and he’d known how to skillfully avoid the venomous fangs of a femaletarguk.
