Page 26 of Tempting Jupiter (Arena Dogs #2)

He released Ears and shed the role like an old skin.

His shoulders stretching back into place and away from the young man’s touch.

“He’s telling the truth.” He met Jupiter’s eyes, refusing to hide from any judgment he might find there.

He saw only confusion, a reaction he could live with.

He was almost glad there was no time to explain.

Helping Jupiter get to Feeona was more important.

He turned back to Ears. “Can you tell us how to get to her without being seen?”

Ears shuffled back and his gaze darted between him and Jupiter.

“Answer,” Jupiter demanded.

Ears jerked out of his thoughts. “Tunnels. We’ll use the tunnels.” He headed for the hatch. “Come on. I’ll explain on the way.”

***

Fee fisted the cloth of her surgical gown in one hand and put out the other to stop the med-tech trying to put the anesthetic wrap around her arm. “No, thanks. I’m good with a local.”

Dressed in a blue med-suit, the technician frowned. “Standard protocol—”

“I said no. And I’ve been through this before.” Fee turned her head to the surgeon, working at the terminal on the end of the med-bed. “Doc?”

The man looked up and nodded. “It’s fine. Better actually, if you aren’t squeamish.”

“Not a bit.” Fee breathed easier at the answer.

“Just use the restraints.” The surgeon dropped his gaze back to the terminal.

Fee’s gut lurched. Her first instinct was to refuse the restraints with as much determination as the general anesthetics, but her original surgeon had done the same.

So, why was anxiety gnawing at her nerves, giving her second and third thoughts about the wisdom of letting the surgeon cut into her head.

His office seemed professional enough. A brightly painted medical symbol hung on the wall outside his offices.

A sympathetic reception worker had been seated behind a counter explaining to an unhappy patient that their procedure had to be rescheduled.

The patient hadn’t looked as if he were escaping a face-off with a hatchet man.

The surgeon looked perfectly average. Average height.

Average weight. Average brown eyes. Maybe it was his averageness that was setting her off.

“Okay,” said the medic. “I’ve turned off the sedative, but we still need the monitors.”

Feeona scowled as the man wrapped the padded sleeve around her arm. He didn’t seem to mind her attitude. He smiled blandly as he moved to the end of the table, and she struggled to remember why she’d been scowling.

“Now, just relax.” The tech patted her shin with a gloved hand.

Think of the cargo, she reminded herself as the first restraint locked into place around her ankle. Think of the cargo waiting on Petro-5.

His hand wrapped around her free ankle and the absence of a visual to go with the contact made her realize her eyelids had closed. Damn him. Turned the sedative off, my ass. She reached for the arm wrap, but nothing happened. Her muscles barely twitched in response to the mental command.

The sound of a door opening and voices whispering raised her heart rate and pumped much needed adrenalin into her bloodstream.

She pulled her right leg free of the aide’s reach just as a wall panel crashed to the floor.

Jupiter. His brawny form appeared in the newly made opening and it took her a moment to decide he wasn’t just a drug fueled dream.

He stepped through. The lines of fury carved into his face helped to convince her.

In her dreams she was pretty sure he’d have been looking at her with a very different heat in his eyes.

Startled shouts and booted feet had her scrambling up to a seated position. Fear fueling her muscles, she twisted, reaching for something to defend herself with, but her hands came up empty.

She didn’t recognize the people coming in through the door, but the lead man had a thuggish look with a nose that had been broken and healed badly.

There were too many, but Jupiter and Seneca didn’t hesitate.

Both Arena Dogs surged across the room. Jupiter slammed into the crush of thugs like a wrecking pylon, before they got off a single shot, and then they were all too close for pulse weapons.

The med-tech and surgeon disappeared, leaving Feeona to focus on freeing her ankle.

She pulled against the restraining band, using her leg strength to drag herself down the table until she was practically wrapped around her foot.

Her free leg hung over the edge of the table as she wrapped her arms around her restrained leg.

Knee pressed against her chest, she tugged at the restraint.

The thing wouldn’t budge. A dot of light flashed defiantly, proof of locking circuitry at work.

The clash playing out just a few meters away crushed her concentration.

Jupiter fought in the center of the armed men and Seneca danced around the edges, sending more of them to the floor.

The sight mesmerized her. Like watching a blaze from the heart of a fire as a ritual dancer dragged away and discarded half burned branches until all the fuel was gone.

The slender man from the money-lender’s office brushed her hands away from the restraint. “Let me help you.”

Where had he come from?

He made quick work of the locking mechanism and held out a hand.

She took it long enough to hop off the table and get her balance. “What the hell is going on?”

“It’s okay, Angel.” He grabbed her arm and urged her toward the opening in the wall. “It’s my turn to rescue you.”

She studied his face, looking for that hint of familiarity she’d dismissed. “I don’t know you,” she said, but it was almost a question.

A small smile curved his lips. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago and there’ve been a lot of kids since me.”

He lifted his wrist to show her. Oh, God. The tattoo marring his skin looked so much like the one she’d had removed on her sixteenth birthday.

She shook her head. “You shouldn’t be here.” But concern for Jupiter and Seneca stole her attention. She looked over her shoulder. “We have to help them.”

“They’re doing fine.” He put an arm around her waist and urged her toward the damaged wall.

He was right. As she watched, Jupiter lifted one of the remaining men by the neck and slammed him against a wall. The man’s feet kicked and shook as he clawed Jupiter’s hand at his throat. Seneca had the last attacker backed into a corner.

A loud thump drew her eyes back to Jupiter. He released his opponent and the man’s lifeless body spilled to the ground. The back of the man’s head was coated with blood.

Feeona swayed, feeling dizzy. It had to be the drugs in her system.

She’d never fainted at the sight of blood before.

Not knowing what was going on always made her edgy and she was seriously in the dark.

She took a steadying breath and turned back to her young rescuer.

Her fists clasped his tunic as she tried to make sense of things. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“Roma knows you’re here.” Jupiter’s rumbling bass at her side was an impossibly welcome comfort.

Jupiter pulled her against his chest and framed her face with his hands. “Are you hurt?”

The heat of him soaked through the surgical gown and chased away the chill that had stolen into her bones.

“I’m fine.” She wrapped her arms around him, no longer able to remember what had distressed her. Her fingers dug into the solid mass of his muscles and his familiar masculine scent enveloped her. Her panic settled and Seneca came into focus at Jupiter’s side.

“We really need to go now.” The kid’s insistence had turned desperate.

His presence brought her back to the harsh reality of her situation with a jolt.

“Damn it all.” She needed the funds to pick up her cargo. “The surgeon. I need –”

“We’re getting you out of here,” Jupiter insisted.

Seneca stalked through the room, ending at the back wall. “The medics are gone. There’s an exit back here.”

She would’ve turned, gone after them, but Jupiter held her still. She reached up and pressed her hands to his cheeks, meeting his gaze, trying to make him understand. “You shouldn’t have stopped them. I need the funds I was going to get for this.”

“The money-lender betrayed your trust. The doctor would have turned you over to them.” Jupiter spoke softly, like a rough-hewn blanket to ease the bad news.

Fee glanced over to where the thugs lay on the floor. The big lug had gone from lethal to comforting in a moment. For her.

Jupiter’s thumb brushed against her cheek, urging her to look at him. “I’m sorry we brought you this trouble.”

Fee loosened her hold on him, slipping her hands down to lie against the tempting expanse of firm muscles across his chest. “This is so not your fault.”

“When these guys don’t report back, there’ll be more.” The kid picked up Bug from the med-cart and shoved it into Feeona’s hand.

“There won’t be any place on the station that’s safe.” With that thought, she linked with Bug, powering up the small device. The familiar sensations buzzed through her brain and suddenly she could think clearly again, despite the weakness lingering in her body.

“Come. We must go back to your ship now.” Jupiter wrapped one of his hands around hers as he pulled her toward the opening in the wall.

His hand was cool and slick with blood, but she clutched it like a lifeline. Getting back to the ship was smart, but what then? If she didn’t have the funds, there would be no point in going to Petro-5. Toolman was a hard ass. There was no way she would get to the cargo without paying upfront.

When they stepped through the hole in the wall and into a maintenance tunnel, the kid stopped. “Just go back the way you came,” he said to Jupiter. He shifted his attention to Feeona, lifted a hand and smiled. “Let them protect you, Angel. We can’t lose you.”

She acknowledged his words with a nod and watched as he disappeared down the opposite end of the tunnel.

There was no doubt left in her mind, that he was one of her kids.

And it no longer mattered that she didn’t have the funds.

Not yet. Not going to Petro-5 wasn’t any kind of option.

She had to get to her cargo. There was no way she was leaving her next load of children to die.