Page 21 of Return to Sender
“I’ll draw their fire,” I decide. “You circle around and—”
“Negative,” he interrupts, his voice carrying a note I’ve never heard before—something raw and almost violent. His grip on my arm tightens. “We move together.”
“There are at least seven of them now,” I argue, hyper-aware of the way his fingers burn against my skin. “We’ll never make it across that open space without a distraction.”
His jaw tightens, and tension radiates from every line of his body. “The risk to your safety is unacceptable.”
“And what about your safety?” I challenge, stepping closer, close enough to see his chest raising with his heartbeat. “In case you missed it, there’s a bounty on your head too. A rather insulting one that paints you as some kind of mind-controlling alien abductor.”
“My status is irrelevant to mission parameters,” he says, but his breathing has gone shallow.
“It’s not irrelevant to me!” The words burst out before I can stop them, surprising us both with their intensity.
Wi’kar stares at me, those alien eyes unreadable, his breathing pattern shifting to something deeper, more deliberate. The air between us suddenly feels charged with something that has nothing to do with energy weapons.
“Dominique,” he says slowly, like he’s testing the shape of my name.
Before either of us can speak again, a new barrage forces us deeper into cover.
“They’re flanking us,” Wi’kar observes, though his eyes never leave my face. “Approximately 42 seconds before our position is compromised.”
I make a split-second decision, reaching into my bag and pulling out one of the spiky purple fruits I’d been examining earlier. “How good is your aim?”
He follows my gaze to a cluster of power cells stacked near a market stall—the kind used for portable cooking units, now abandoned in the chaos. “Volatile if breached,” he notes with approval. “Distance: 18.7 meters. Probability of accurate throw under current conditions: 94.3%.”
“Show-off,” I mutter, handing him the fruit. Our fingers brush in the exchange, and the contact sends electricity racing up my arm. “On three?”
He adjusts his grip on the spiky projectile with practiced precision, and I notice how his hands—so careful with his precious protocols—handle the makeshift weapon with deadly competence.
“One...” His voice has gone lower, more focused.
“Two...” I find myself staring at his mouth, wondering what it would feel like against mine.
“Three!”
Wi’kar’s throw is absolutely perfect—the fruit arcs through the air and smashes directly into the power cell stack. The resulting explosion isn’t massive, but it’s loud and bright, sending upsmoke and sparks that immediately draw attention and create confusion.
“Excellent destructive instincts,” he says with what might be admiration, and the approval in his voice does things to my insides that should probably require a medical license.
“I have many hidden talents,” I reply, then immediately regret the suggestive phrasing when his breathing hitches and he goes very still.
“Now!” He grabs my hand, and we sprint toward the fountain.
His grip is firm, warm, and sends electricity up my arm that has nothing to do with the energy weapons firing around us. We’re halfway across the plaza when a hunter emerges from the smoke, weapon raised. Wi’kar pushes me ahead, turning to face the threat, and I get a clear view of his expression—cold fury mixed with something protective and possessive that makes my knees weak.
I should keep running. The fountain is just meters away. But something makes me hesitate, watching as Wi’kar engages the hunter with lethal grace, moving like violence and poetry combined.
That’s when I see it—a second hunter on an upper market level, taking careful aim at Wi’kar’s unprotected back while he’s occupied with the first attacker.
I don’t think. I move.
Sprinting back toward Wi’kar, I shout a warning, but the market’s chaos swallows my voice. The hunter’s weapon charges with a distinctive high-pitched whine—a sound I recognize from my combat training. Not a standard energy pistol, but a neural disruptor. Illegal in most systems, and potentially lethal to non-humans.
Time seems to slow. Wi’kar, still engaged with the first hunter, hasn’t noticed the threat. The neural disruptor reaches fullcharge, its barrel glowing with sickly yellow energy. The hunter’s finger tightens on the trigger.
I launch myself forward, colliding with Wi’kar just as the disruptor fires. Searing pain explodes across my shoulder as the edge of the neural blast catches me, sending fire through my nervous system. I hit the ground hard, Wi’kar’s body partially breaking my fall, his arms immediately coming around me with desperate strength.
“Dominique!” His voice sounds distant through the ringing in my ears, but the anguish in it is unmistakable.
