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He ground his foot against her skull until she whimpered in pain. He reached down and took the gun away from her, jamming it against her temple.

“I should use this on you, you disgusting, treacherous creature,” he spat out.

“Do it. I’ll never willingly be with you. I’d rather die than have that happen.” Her words wheezed out as her head throbbed.

“Maybe you’ll change your mind when you’ve spent a few days in that stinking cage. When you’re starving, thirsty, and your wounds haven’t been treated, you’ll be begging me on your knees to take you and have my protection. And trust me, I’m not the worst of them on board the ship. Pledge yourself to me now, and you’ll have everything you need.”

“I’ll never do that,” she gasped.

He grunted and removed his foot from her head. “You’ll change your mind. They always do.” He yanked her up by the back of her jumpsuit, the gun still aimed at her.

Every inch of Wren’s body screamed in protest. She’d lost. Everything was gone. Her freedom had been taken, Striker was dead, and her friends were captives of the Gente.

“Submit to me, Human. You have nowhere else to go.”

Her shoulders slumped, and her heart beat heavily. Striker. He couldn’t be dead. She wouldn’t believe it, but she’d seen the footage.

She was out of options. The Gente had won.

***

“Will you stop moving? How am I supposed to treat your injuries if you keep squirming around?” Dallin glared at Striker as he sat on the edge of the examination table in the lab on the Apocalypse.

“You’re not even a real doctor. Where’s Angel?” Striker winced as Dallin prodded a bruise.

“She’s busy. You’ll have to make do with me. It’s lucky you’re even alive.”

“It’s bad luck for the Gente.” Striker jerked away as Dallin slapped a healing plaster on a wound. “How are Blaze and Rexx?”

“Rexx is sedated. Cleo’s orders. He wanted to take over the ship and attack the Gente.”

“Good call.”

“It’s a dumb call. And he won’t stay under. It’s like he’s programed to find Daisy and destroy anyone who gets in his way. Blaze has a few burns, but he’s mending. Angel is taking care of him, which is why you’re stuck with me.” He whacked another plaster over a cut.

Striker grunted, glad everyone made it out. “Patch up the worst so I can get back out there. Wren’s in trouble.”

“We know that. We know the Gente have them. We’re tracking their ship now that we can identify their cloaked signature. It’s weak, but ELVIS is locked on them. We won’t let them get away.” Dallin ran a scanner over the side of Striker’s head again. “You’ve got a concussion. They should have killed you.”

“They wanted the women. That’s all they cared about.”

Dallin grumbled as he read the scanner results. “I don’t think you’re going to die, but I’m no expert.”

“Thanks, buddy.”

He whacked Striker’s shoulder. “Any time. Try not getting shot so much. It won’t do your rep any good.” His expression grew serious. “They may have part of our crew for now, but they won’t get to keep them long.”

Striker grunted again. His head throbbed like it had been squeezed in a vice, but he barely registered the pain. His thoughts were on Wren. He pressed his fingers against his closed eyelids. If they were hurting her, he’d destroy every single Gente.

“How’s it going in here?” Cleo’s strode into the medical lab.

Striker opened his eyes and glared at her. “Why didn’t you see that other ship?”

She lifted a hand, her expression tight. “I know. I screwed up. The tech they’re using is more sophisticated than we expected. Gente don’t usually have that kind of shielding tech.”

“You should have seen it.” Striker almost growled the words. “ELVIS should have seen what was happening.”

Cleo paced the room. “I know! And he registered an anomaly. But the Gente don’t usually work with other bounty hunters. They don’t trust them.”