“Don’t touch the princess!” she screams back at me.
Which just goes to prove that nothing good ever comes from trying to help someone else, especially not someone like her.
Lesson fucking learned.
I reach behind me and peel whoever the hell is hitting me off my back before dropping her to the floor. I have no clue who this woman is, but she’s slowing me down, and that I’m not having. While saving the princess could be a smart bet for me later on, this other one gets me nothing. So she can go down with this flying fucking torture chamber.
But before that happens, I plan to be long gone.
I continue dragging Princess Pain-in-the-Ass, my lungs screaming for oxygen.
At the security door, I release my grip on her arm and plug in the only security code I know for these things.
The door doesn’t budge. Big fucking surprise.
Our rogue technician, Gage, memorized every code to every door in this place, and now that everything is going to shit, I wish I had, too. But wishes won’t get me much, and they sure as fuck won’t get me out of here. So I reach for my hip and pull out the one thing that will.
The princess backs away, staring at me with those strange silver eyes of hers, like she’s afraid I’m about to shoot her.
I probably should—something tells me my escape would go a lot smoother.
Instead, I shoot a blast at the scanner. Nothing happens.
“Fuck,” I growl and shoot again. This time the scanner bursts into flames, but at least the door slides open.
I turn to the princess and wave at the door in the closest thing to a gentlemanly move I’ve got. For a moment, she doesn’t look like she’s going to budge. But then the ship shimmies around us hard enough to have her careening into the wall. Which is all that needs to happen for her to make a dive for it, with the other girl close behind.
I follow right after them, and as soon as I’m through the door, oxygen floods my system, filling my lungs, spreading through my body.
Fuck, that feels good.
I take a couple of deep breaths before looking around to get my bearings. The princess glares at me like I just stole her favorite tiara or something. Again, typical. The Ruling Families aren’t exactly known for saying thank you.
“Don’t touch me!” she yells.
What is it with the touching thing? I hold up my hands. “Believe me, I wasn’t planning to.” But I’m starting to get a little pissed off. “I did just save your life, though, so a thank-you would be nice. Not to mention—”
Two more people burst through the security door, both dressed in these weird white robes that make them look fucking creepy. At the rate things are going, who knows who could appear next? An Ancient?
Either way, these two can take care of the princess from here. I’ve done my good deed for the day—probably for the century. I’ve got to go.
As I turn away, another explosion shakes the ship. Alarms are shrieking nonstop now, blaring up and down the corridor as the comms system crackles to life.
“Evacuation protocols have been instigated. Please go to your designated evacuation point.”
“What about everyone in the lab?” the princess asks. “We can’t just leave them. What if something happens?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, Princess, something is happening,” I tell her.
“My name is Kali,” she snarls. “Not Princess. Or, if you insist on formality, the correct address is Your Highness.”
“Because formality is what I’m worried about right now. Princess.” I start to move down the corridor. Then, because the lack of oxygen obviously did something to my own self-preservation instinct, I call over my shoulder, “You can stay here and blow up with the rest of the ship, or you can come with me and try to get the hell off this thing.”
Why did I say that? I don’t need her trailing me.
She stares down the corridor where the two in the robes have disappeared. Then at the girl beside her, whose face is ashen, her eyes wide and panicked. The princess gives a curt nod. “Let’s go.”
She tries to run but, two steps in, trips over the tight skirt of the dress she’s wearing and lands on her ass, muttering something about sloggs under her breath.
I pull my knife from the scabbard at the small of my back—it’s not standard issue, but it’s gotten me out of a lot of jams in my life, and I don’t go anywhere without it. Her expression goes scarily blank, and she shimmies away from me.
Why the fuck am I wasting my time again? I start to say to hell with it, but once again something prevents me from leaving her.
Instead, I point out, “You can’t run in that.”
I see the moment she gets it, because she scrambles to her feet and gives another quick nod. “Do it.”
It sounds enough like an order that it gets my back way the hell up, but I let it go as I kneel beside her.
Her friend gives a horrified gasp, but I ignore her, too, as I grab the heavy, stone-encrusted material. Are the jewels real? I wonder as I try to figure out the best way to cut the damn thing. If they are, she’s walking around wearing enough wealth to feed a good portion of my home planet for a month.
Fucking Ruling Families.
A slit up the front would be easiest, but it’s so long she’ll likely still trip and break her royal neck. So, I hack away at it just above her knees. Beneath it, her long legs are bare and she’s wearing very high heels.
She follows my gaze, then kicks them off with a scowl. “Are we going? Or waiting around here all day?”
“Going.” I drag my gaze from her bare legs by reminding myself they belong to a princess. Then I’m off and running.
I hear them behind me but don’t slow. I’ve already gone fucking way beyond the call of duty.
I’m racing toward the open docking-bay doors up ahead, determined to make it before shit goes any more sideways. I’m almost there, but then another explosion rips through the ship, and I go careening into the wall.
“What the fuck is happening on this fucking piece of shit?” I roar.
I push off the wall and dive for the door as behind me, I hear someone stumble and fall.
Don’t look back. It’s not your problem. None of this is your fucking problem.
They’re words to live by—literally—but I whirl around anyway, just in time to see the princess running back toward her fallen friend. But she only makes it a few steps before another blast hits us and she crashes to the floor just as a bulkhead slams down between them.
“No!” the princess screams, scrambling to her feet and banging her fists on the metal. “Lara? Lara!”
“It’s too late,” I tell her. “She’s gone.”
She ignores me, running her hands along the edges of the metal door as though she can find a way through. Not going to happen. Max and I have studied all the plans of this station, and once that particular fucker closes, nothing is opening it until the state of emergency is over. And judging from the way the ship is bucking like a pissed-off ocewallen, that’s not happening anytime soon.
“You can’t open it,” I point out in my most reasonable tone.
“But I can’t leave her. I just can’t.” She pounds on the door.
“Damn it,” I growl. “We don’t have time for this. The ship—”