Free Precious Sacrifice by Cari Silverwood Page B

staggered and recovered.
    The Doomslagger , transport, Midget-class attack ship, and general all-round dogs-body of the Preyfinders had indeed moved.
    “Why am I needed here?” he asked as they advanced into the hiss and hum of an entrance hatch. The hatch sealed behind them and Dassenze turned.
    “You’re one of only three men on this planet trained and capable of wearing full mech ceram armor. We have a Bak-lal down there somewhere. The ship will deal with that, if it reveals itself. If it spits out an army, we need you.
    He bit back his first response. Why the kak don’t you kill them yourself? Blasphemy. No one knew the reasons of the gods. He bowed deeply. “I am yours, Ascend.”
    “Of course you are. Come.” The inner door slid open.
    Yours unless Brittany gets hurt.
    He snorted. Now that really was blasphemy.
    Why did he want her so much? It was excruciating. He put his hand over his stomach. He was going to vomit if this kept up.

Chapter 8
    Brittany managed to rise to her knees. She wiped her mouth, struggling to adjust to this whole disgusting feeling of throbbing headache, burning skin, especially her face, and yeah, she was going to be sick in a minute.
    The rug was hurting her knees too.
    “Oh.” She looked down at herself. Naked. Then she looked around at the three alien guys with guns and shit surrounding her. Not that they were bothering her. One was peering out through the curtains. One was listening to nothing and staring at nothing too. One, a really ginormous one, was heading back to her front entrance.
    “Clothes?” she asked softly, and covered her breasts with one arm. “Damn.” They weren’t paying attention, at all. She almost felt neglected.
    “Acknowledged,” the staring at nothing one said. Brask. Jadd had called him Brask. “Keyner!”
    The one at the curtain nodded in recognition.
    “Stay here. Guard her with your life. Gribb, come with me. We’ve got three of the killer clones coming up the stairs.” Brask was running to the front door as he spoke. “We knock them down until they stay down. Don’t worry about locals. Mindblanks and media cleansing will come after.”
    “Got it, Brask.” Gribb, the big one, smirked nastily. He looked like he could knock down enemies by just stomping on them. If he nodded, he’d take out her ceiling fan. “They’re going to be kak. Sir.”
    At a thump on her door, Gribb, shot down her hallway with his stubby, bristly black weapon. The boom rattled her windows and flame flared back into the room for a second. Dammit. There went her door. Then he and Brask ran off and, from the sound of it, kicked open whatever was left of her door then shot at something or someone else.
    “Crap. I needed that door.” Unexpected tears prickled her eyes.
    Where was Jadd? The yearning jerked at her. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand then clambered to her feet, feeling dizzy, and headed for her bedroom.
    “Where you going?” Keyner held out a hand to her. “Stay. I can’t guard you if you –”
    Above the crack and shakalakka of firearms in the corridors outside, some small sound caught her attention. She swiveled. A blood-smeared hand appeared on the curtain behind Keyner. Then, like magic, a knife appeared thrusting out of his neck. The man opened his mouth, gasping, face contorted in agony. He flipped his weapon as if to fire backward but before he could do it, the knife crunched sideways and half severed his head from his body.
    His last action – he flung his gun toward her. The metal spun and skidded crazily across the floor to stop just before her toe. As he crumpled, Brittany kneeled to grab the gun but overbalanced and fell backward onto her heels.
    She had no idea how to fire it.
    The man with the knife was the one Jadd had thrown over the railing. He leaped into the room. He should be dead but he crouched before her, eyes scintillating with menace, clothes torn, hands bloody. Head bloody. Strands of clotted red strung across his