Another sting followed, summoning a hiss.
“Easily led by these Malods.”She nudged her head at the Purple Robe who hovered, injection gun extended.
One Eye’s face darkened to a dull silver.“An alliance does not make us the weaker, Earthian.It is you who should be concerned.”More flicks of his dagger heralded minor bites like bee stings, all while his gaze remained fixed on her.He relished the hurt he inflicted.
What a dick.
“Do it, kuliriji,” One-eye spat.
She blinked.Ah, so kuliriji must mean scientist?Like Frankenstein?But when Purple Robe squeezed beside the Yithian holding her in place, she shuffled back though it would buy her no more than a few seconds.
The fire exploding outward, from her neck to her toes, was nothing like before.Ice and heat took turns to flush her body.Muscles spasmed and cramped at random.Memories and darkness sputtered on and off.Emotions bombarded her: glee, curiosity, revenge?It had to be her imagination, her tortured mind grasping for sanity while her body became…something else.
“She lives?Intriguing.”Purple Robe turned his back on her and fiddled with things unseen on the counter.The four Yithians tightened their hold on her limbs.
“Stop this,” Hiossu demanded.
“Gag him,” One Eye said, hiss-laughing.“Nothing pleases me more than a silent Maloidian.”
“Do not overstep,” Purple Robe muttered.
“Yes, kuliriji,” One Eye said, but his black eyes twinkled with an eagerness that summoned a shiver down her spine.He frightened her more than anything theMaloidianscould inject into her.
Chapter Ten
Itwastooquiet.Cylo hadn’t expected the Yithians to post guards, but no one hindered their approach.No movement or light showed life.Nhyht’s frown said it all.The front doors were unbarred, swishing open on silent puffs of air.With blasters drawn, they spread out, ensuring no one hid.In the process, they planted incendiaries and set the timer for ‘twenty.’In the foyer, they reunited then hurried along the corridor, their steps no more than a whisper.They dared not use the pod lest it drew attention.Down they scampered: ears on heightened alert, armor maximized, and blasters raised.
No life signs on the second level made planting the explosives simpler, then downward they went.
Chaos on the third floor had Cylo wincing, but he didn’t adjust his hearing.“Scan,” he muttered to Olin, who waved his O.D.I.
He pointed at each room they passed, sending a male in to investigate.Cylo stayed in front of a distracted Olin locked on his O.D.I., keeping him safe.When they neared the end of the passage, Olin tapped his wrist, swiveled his gaze from left, center, then right at the last three doors.He pointed to the third door.
Cylo inched it open.Sprawled on the table was an unconscious female, her hair solid black, her limbs not strapped to the table.Without hesitation, he fired, killing the two Maloidians unaware of his presence.On the counter was a data belt charging two cubes.He tagged them, porting them to the scimitar.Slapping the explosive to the wall, he hoisted the female over his shoulder and met Olin in the passage.
“One more,” Cylo said, heading to the left room.Inside, a damu-like female lay alone.
Olin slipped past him and, with one arm, held her against his body.He dug out an incendiary and tossed it onto the table.No data cubes were visible, and they didn’t have the time to search.
“There is another,” he said, his tone unfazed as he nudged the female over a shoulder.
Cylo blinked.“Do you mean an eighth female?”
“I believe so.She is in a central room with walls almost too thick to scan through.”Olin paused in front of the middle door.“Six additional life signs spell trouble.Her core temperature is elevated: stress, pain, fear… I cannot say.”He gestured to the black-haired female Cylo was carrying.“Give her to me.”
Cylo did, gently scooping her onto Olin’s spare shoulder.
“Do not do anything foolish.”He held Cylo’s gaze.“I will hand these two to our males and return.”
“Very well, my battle-bond,” Cylo said, though he had no intention of waiting.
A second could mean the death of this unexpected female.Deception was against Etterian honor, but he was an operative, trained to lie if it served his mission.When Olin almost reached the stairwell, Cylo faced the final hurdle.
Eight?So Smez had lied.Cylo harrumphed.That shouldn’t have surprised him.He brought up his blaster, checked the red kill button was set, and cracked the door open enough to assess the larger room.A female writhed and yelled on a metal table, her tears soaking into her multi-colored hair.Four Yithians held her limbs in place.A Maloidian sat on the floor, bound.Another in a purple garment focused on an injection gun.
“You’re insane,” she screamed.Exposed parts of her body showed bleeding cuts, bruises, and the side of her face had swollen, now dark blue and black.An eye was half-shut.
Yet she fought on.Cylo admired her determination and strength of will.
