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Onnika had nearly dozed off when Caryn suddenly shot out of her bed, gasping, her expression filled with white-faced terror.
“What is it?” she asked, instantly concerned.
Without a word, Caryn hurled herself at the hatch, her shaking hands fumbling to unlock it.
“What are you doing?”
“I don’t know. Something’s wrong. I want off this ship. We have to go.”
Onnika’s heart did a sickly flip. Was Caryn sensing danger? Had something in their path changed?
The lock was operated by a heavy rusted valve that had required their combined effort to turn. Alone, Caryn made no progress.
Onnika scurried out of bed to help. When they yanked the hatch open, Zeek, who’d been curled against the opposite wall, roused from a light slumber and pushed to stand. “Huh? What?”
Having already registered, processed, and acknowledged Caryn’s terror, Onnika now shared her urgency. “Zeek, get up. Get your gun. We need to go. Now.”
“What?” He rubbed his eyes.
“Where’s Aidan?” she demanded.
“I…uh…”
A familiar, menacing voice answered from the opposite end of the corridor. “Sorry, love, your Aidan instructed me to come take you away.”
“Tag!” she yelped. He was headed their way, with Rice and his new crew in tow, their predatory expressions twisted with dark triumph.
Grabbing Caryn’s arm, Onnika retreated back into their bunk and proceeded to heave the heavy hatch closed behind them. But before they could latch it, the hatch burst open, propelling them backward. Tag’s imposing frame lumbered inside, his threatening gaze bearing down on them.
Behind him, Zeek reached for his gun, but Rice got there first and kicked it out of his grip before the others descended on him like a vicious pack of animals, kicking him to the floor and bludgeoning him repeatedly. The sound of Zeek’s suffering only heightened their rabid frenzy.
“Stop it!” Onnika screamed, jumping into the fray, scratching and clawing and throwing elbows. She caught one of the hulking men in the jaw before Tag yanked her back. Too focused on Zeek, she didn’t see the backhand coming. A brilliant flash of white flooded her vision as pain sliced her cheek. She blinked, dazed and confused to find herself on the cold, hard floor. Propping herself up on both hands, she shook her head as though to clear it of a terrible fog. Then a familiar weight clamped her wrist.
Oh, God. Not again!
A beat later, sizzling volts of electricity snapped her every nerve. Agony curled her body in on itself. While she helplessly writhed, Tag stood over her, demanding, “Do you have it? Tell me you still have it!”
The searing pain overwhelmed her—vaguely she realized he was using full power—squeezing and twisting her organs until she feared they would burst like soggy grapes. When her torment became too much to bear, she screamed, “Yes! I have it.” It was all she could manage to push through her clenching teeth.
The shocks to her system ceased, but her abused muscles continued to twitch. She gulped cool air into her heat-laden lungs.
Where was Caryn? Onnika forced her bleary eyes open but didn’t see her sister anywhere. Had she been dragged from the room? Had they cuffed her, too?
With a harsh grip, Tag yanked her off the ground. She’d have fallen right back over if he wasn’t holding her up. Nausea and dizziness assailed her.
Zeek was keeled over, bloodied, unmoving. Desperate to rouse him, she cried out his name. He didn’t move.
Uncaring, Tag hauled her away. She couldn’t even tell if Zeek was breathing, or if he was even alive. She called out again. Still no response.
Tears sprang to her eyes. “You son of a bitch!”
“Careful, girly. You’d do well to appease my wrath now that I have you back.”
Her stomach plummeted.
He dragged her to the hangar. Caryn stood there, unharmed, though closely guarded by Rice. Her eyes were stark, and she was cuffed as well. Worse than that, she’d given up, crestfallen and devastated, surrendering to her fate. She must have realized Onnika could sense her defeat—crushed by shame, she refused to meet Onnika’s eyes.
