Chapter Fourteen: Ronan
Ronan would have liked to just hold Erica. Unfortunately, they didn't have time. He pulled away, putting a hand to his chest as the muscles there pulled. Months of healing and he still hadn’t fully recovered. Erica's hand joined his over his heart.
"How are you alive?"
"The Bloodstore and Fleshseal you used were enough to keep me alive until Tag could get me to an infirmary."
"You were stabbed right through the heart. No regeneration could fix that."
"No. I needed a heart transplant. If I had been anywhere else in the universe I'd be dead, but with their hybridization techniques, they were able to use alien tissue as a base model to clone a new heart. It's never been done before."
Erica looked amazed. "A miracle."
"We have to go."
Gripping Erica's hand, he headed for the door, but a twinge in his chest had him leaning on his sword as if it were a cane. He tried not to let Erica see how much pain he was in. Not now when he just got her back. He couldn't let anybody come between him and his mate again.
"Healing isn't going as fast as normal. Apparently blending alien DNA together has its drawbacks." He tried to smile at his mate, but the worry in her eyes stopped him. He cupped her face again. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. I would have, but—"
"That doesn't matter. You're here now."
Ronan nodded. He grit his teeth against the pain and strode from Lirreb's rooms, holding Erica's hand tightly. Maybe Tag was right when she said he wasn't ready to take on the Planchet Corporation, but that didn't matter–they didn't have any time to spare.
A security force was charging up the corridor, armed to the teeth. Ronan grinned at them, pushing Erica out of harm's way. The front row of the security force dropped to their knees, raising their guns, but Ronan didn't give them the chance to fire. He leaped through the air, channeling the lingering pain into rage. The broadsword swung through the air, cleaving through three guards at once. Their limbs jerked and writhed as they fell.
A guard slammed the butt of his blaster into the back of Ronan's head, making him stumble. He recovered quickly, swinging around with a roar. His sword sliced through the blaster-resistant armor as though it were butter. With a quick stab, he skewered two guards on his sword. Releasing it, he swung around, using fists now. He dug his toe claws into the floor as a giant Dibat crashed into him. Ronan used the Dibat's momentum to flip him around and into his companions.
The T'shav followed it up with a kick to the throat. With a quick flick of his ankle, his claws tore through flesh. The Dibat stumbled back, both hands going to his throat. Ronan howled, retrieving his sword once more. He cut down another guard before a lucky blow landed right on the scar in his chest. Pain exploded, blinding him.
Coughing, Ronan backed up, swinging his sword in defense. The security force pressed his weakness, bringing their guns up again. He heard Erica scream and charged forward again, gasping for breath. He severed first one arm and then another, but he was still outnumbered by half a dozen and he couldn’t catch his breath.
The lights flickered out.
Ronan threw himself out of the fray, sagging against the wall to give himself a moment to recover. The security guards cried out and there were sounds of continued fighting. Ronan waited until they realized they were fighting each other before he leaped back into the fray, howling a challenge against them all. He felt flesh give way to metal as they fell before him.
A familiar voice shouted through the darkness. "Need some help?"
He felt Tag drop behind him. Together they made quick work of the security guards that were left.
"Here." Tag clapped him on either side of the head. There was a sharp pain in his temples, but his vision flickered back on, green-hued but very much there. "Night vision. It'll give us an edge for a while at least."
Ronan nodded his thanks to the female warrior and hurried back to Erica. Her eyes were wide as they peered into the darkness. He took her hand in his, panting for breath. It would take him a little longer to fully recover from his heart transplant. But he was going to make it out of this. He was going to get Erica out of here.
"It's okay," he told her. "Just hold onto me."
She nodded, clinging to his arm with one hand while the other rested atop her swollen stomach. He couldn't let himself spend time thinking about what a beautiful sight it was, to have Erica's body round with his child. He promised himself he would worship every inch of her later, when they were out of this life-or-death situation.
Ronan shook his head. They had to get out of here now, before more security showed up. He couldn't waste time thinking about what he would do in the future. He led Erica through the corridors, listening for any sounds around him that indicated enemies nearby. Twice he picked her up and tiptoed past an open door where a scientist or two were peering into the darkness, calling for help. Tag came silently behind them, her twin swords drawn. When they came to the stairs, they headed upwards.
"Bethy has the ship positioned at level with the roof. They'll be expecting us to get out the way we came in, which is downstairs," Ronan explained. "But Tag took care of the power so they can't see we have a ship upstairs waiting to fly us away."
The lights came back on. The night vision adjusted instantly, so there was no blinding glare of light, but Ronan tensed nonetheless. They were out of time. Erica blinked hard, her eyes watering. A look of horror came over her face.
"Until they turn the lights on again, you mean," she said.
Ronan picked her up and ran hard, taking the steps two at a time. His chest pulled, and by the time they were halfway up, a thin sheen of sweat covered his face. Without a word, Tag took Erica from his arms. They reached the roof just as the sounds of pursuit came up the stairwell after them. The ship was hovering right at the edge of the building, the gangplank extended to rest on the roof.
Tag ran towards the ship with Erica in her arms. Ronan followed close behind, shielding the two women with his body. Shouts followed them. A few blaster shots fired at them. Ronan answered with his own fire, and then they were there. He followed Tag into the ship even as Bethy raised the gangplank. Wind whipped around, throwing things off the wall, as they started away.
The gangplank closed and the wind stopped. Ronan groaned, letting himself fall to the floor. His chest was on fire and he felt like he was about to pass out, but he still couldn’t help but laugh. They had done it.
Erica knelt beside him. Her cool hands pressed against his face. He smiled up at her beautiful face. Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she laughed as well. She kissed him, hard. Ronan wrapped his arms around her, bringing him closer. He didn't break the kiss until he couldn't breathe, and even then Erica kept peppering his face with smaller kisses.
"I love you," she gasped. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
She pulled back then, lips trembling. "You're alive. I thought you died."
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I should have come for you—"
A finger pressed to his lips silenced him. Erica shook her head, smiling again. "You did come for me. I don't care that it took a few months. You came for me. That's all that matters, Ronan. You came for me."
He smiled. "Always."
Erica wiped her face and nodded. "Bethy, pass me that regenerator. You're covered in cuts and bruises, and judging from the way you were gasping and clutching your chest back there, your heart needs a little help, too. A transplant! You're lucky you didn't give yourself an attack carrying me around. Why didn’t you let Tag carry me?"
"Sorry."
"Lie still."
Ronan obeyed, grinning like a fool as he watched Erica's brows pinch in concentration. If he had never bought her, he'd never be in this situation, with a strange heart in his chest and no real way of knowing if he would ever fully heal. But there was one thing for certain–if he were given the choice, he'd do all of it again.
"I love you," he told her again, and her work-focused expression melted once more.
"I love you. But the Planchet Corporation is going to follow us. What are we going to do?"
Ronan shook his head. "They won't follow us where we're going. Zon's fleet. I'm taking you home."