Warlord Reunited: 3 (Barbarian Claims) (7 page)

She tilted her head back, confused. “For what?”

Color crept up his bare chest. “For caring enough to stand up to me. For putting my desires first. For returning to me when I needed you the most.”

“Oh.” She studied him, the power dynamic between them shifting once again, their connection tightening, their bond strengthening.

“The unidentified warship is requesting we open hailing frequencies, Captain,” the ship informed them.

“Already?” Elle reluctantly returned to her captain’s chair. “Was your father as impatient?”

Grooves formed on Berke’s sloping forehead. “I believe he was. You can ask my mother when you see her.”

When I see her.
Elle wiggled with excitement, Berke’s casual assumption that she’d meet his mother thrilling her. “Open hailing frequencies, Ship.”

“Video and audio link established.”

Tolui’s image filled the main viewscreen, his silver scars accentuated by his tanned face and dark hair. “I transferred the credits, bounty hunter.” He scowled, his eyes blazing with a frightening fury. “Yet you didn’t contact me.”

With a couple flicks of her fingertips, Elle verified the credit transfer into her account. “So you have, Chamele clone.” She showed him no weakness and no emotion. “I’ll be expecting you. Alone.” Tolui opened his mouth. “That’s not negotiable. Ship, end transmission.”

The main viewscreen returned to the more soothing image of Chamele 4. “He won’t arrive alone,” Berke drawled, expressing Elle’s thoughts.

“No, he won’t.” She turned their ship to face the rapidly approaching warship, Tolui clearly impatient for the confrontation. “Ship, arm the detonators on the docking doors, five count delay upon breach.” She reached for the black body armor stored on the console and strapped the thin protective gear over her arms, legs, and torso.

“Detonators armed, Captain, five count delay upon breach,” the ship confirmed.

“I’ll kill the surviving clones. I don’t want you to go near them.” Berke’s fingers closed around the hilt of his sword, his expression icy cold, deadly, her Warlord preparing for battle.

“Not even you can kill four clones.” Elle shook her head. Berke continued to view her as his weak, inferior human mate. “We’re working together on this retrieval.” She slid guns and daggers into empty leather straps on her thighs and waist, the weight comforting and familiar.

Berke sheathed his sword, metal gliding along leather. “You’ll follow my orders.”

“If your orders are logical,” she agreed, wrapping restraints around her forearms, the devices doubling as extra protection. Her heart pounded with anticipation. Tolui was possibly her most skilled opponent.

If my orders are logical.
Berke pressed his lips together, biting back his retort. He recognized Elle’s concerns as legitimate as his feelings about his
gerel
were not at all logical. He palmed his favorite gun, the metal cool against his fingers, the heft reassuring.

“Come, Ellie.” He held out his free hand, needing to touch, to control his reckless female, the thrill of battle dampened by his fear of losing her.

“Yes, Warlord, high commander, sir,” Ellie replied with a playful insolence he only tolerated from her. Her small hand slid over his skin, the tremble in her fingers communicating her trepidation and arousing Berke’s protective instincts.

He closed his fingers over hers, securing her, and they walked across the bridge, through the silver sliding doors and down the narrow dimly lit corridors. Her hips brushed against his leg coverings with each stride, heightening his already heightened awareness of her. Her feminine musk teased his nostrils, the scent uniquely hers.

“I don’t want you to go near them,” he repeated, his gaze sliding to the mark on Ellie’s cheek. The burn Tolui had given her with a mere touch hadn’t yet healed.

“I might not be as physically strong as they are.” She lifted her chin, as defiant and fearless as ever. “But I have other skills.”

“You can outshoot me,” Berke declared proudly, having watched her practice daily at the ship’s firing range. Ellie’s eyes widened, her face flushing a delightful pink. “You’ll cover me with gunfire as I move closer.” She opened her mouth to protest and he added softly, “They’re male, Ellie.”

“Oh.” Her mouth dropped open. “I could be a hindrance.” She touched her cheek.

“You won’t be.” Berke assured her, linking their fingers together. “You were correct,” he confessed. “I can’t kill four clones and subdue Tolui on my own.”
Tolui, my father’s clone.
He couldn’t think of that now, putting everything except for the upcoming confrontation out of his mind. “I need you,
gerel
.”

“You need me?” Ellie’s gaze met his. “Your weak human mate?”

“Weak?” A bark of laughter escaped Berke’s lips. “You?” His female nodded, her brown curls bouncing around her slender shoulders, her expression adorably serious. “You captured Tolui on your own. You flew across numerous galaxies to rescue your friends. You dare to question my orders. Constantly. Ellie, you’re the strongest female I’ve ever met.”

“Truthfully?” She squeezed his fingers.

Berke squeezed back, using only a fraction of his strength. “Truthfully.” They turned a corner, the docking doors visible down the corridor. Red beams outlined the frame, his clever female having set bombs around the entrance.

“Then I was wrong.” Ellie worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “Me being human isn’t the reason.”

Berke concealed his confusion under a mask of indifference. “That isn’t the reason for—”

The ship shuddered and Berke wrapped his arm around Ellie’s waist, steadying her, reassuring himself she was unharmed.

“Tolui may be extremely impatient.” He guided Ellie into an alcove, positioned across from the docking doors, far enough away to shield them from shrapnel. “But he’s not a fool.” Berke created a protective cage around his female with his body, supplementing her woefully inadequate body armor. “He’ll send his clones into the ship first.”

Ellie wiggled her ass, swishing her pert curves back and forth, back and forth, tormenting Berke’s semi-hard cock. “You take the clones closest to us. I’ll take the farthest clones.” She raised her guns, her hands impressively steady.

Berke’s lips twitched. His little human was accustomed to assuming command. “You agreed to follow my orders,
gerel
.” He drew his second gun and aimed toward the door. “You take the clones farthest from us. I’ll take the nearest clones,” he joked, seeking to break the tension between them.

Ellie laughed, rubbing her body against his, and Berke’s heart beat faster, adrenaline pumping through his veins.

A blast rocked the ship. The docking doors propelled forward and bounced off the far wall panels. Berke silently counted.
One. Two. Three. Four.
Figures rushed into the corridor and crouched behind the docking doors.
Five.

A second blast ripped through the space, temporarily deafening Berke, shrapnel pinging around them. He flattened Ellie against the concealing wall, covering her with his body. Bodies flew, blood splattering the metallic panels, the odor of death scenting the air, the doors reduced to fragments.

“How many did we get?” Ellie asked, her voice muffled.

“Two.” Berke released her, his ears ringing. “There are two more clones to kill and Tolui to apprehend.”

Shots sounded, bullets pelting the panels around them. Berke ducked into the corridor, shot at the gap where the docking doors once were, and ducked back. Ellie did the same, Berke’s breath catching every time her body was exposed to the bullets.

A dark form rushed across the narrow space. Berke shot, the form stumbled and disappeared into an alcove, leaving a trail of blood on the floor.

“You got him.” The pride in Ellie’s voice warmed Berke’s heart.

“I injured him,” he corrected gruffly. “I’m crossing the corridor.” He coiled his muscles, lowering his torso. “Cover me.” He sprang, rolling across the space.

Bullets flew around him, stinging his skin as they skimmed his arms and legs. The fourth clone leaned out of the door frame, his gun aimed directly at Berke.

A gun retorted and the clone was tossed backward, blood blooming over his right shoulder. His body jerked as more bullets ripped into his tanned flesh.

“Gotcha,” Ellie crowed, his female’s enthusiasm making Berke smile.

“The last one is mine.” He flattened his body against the door of the storage chamber, his chest heaving, perspiration streaking down his back, the recess concealing him from the clone’s bullets.

“Not if I get him first.” Ellie swung her gun into the corridor and her bullets glided along the wall, tearing strips of metal away from the panels. “I can’t reach him.” She retreated into the alcove.

“I can reach him. Keep him trapped in his hole.” Berke surged into the corridor, firing both his guns. Ellie’s bullets rushed along the wall, pinning the clone in place. “We—”

Ellie’s triggers clicked. “Empty.” She tossed the guns onto the floor.

Before she could draw new guns, the clone rushed away from them, zigzagging from alcove to alcove. Berke raced after him, shooting, his prey shockingly fast.

He must be genetically enhanced.
Berke’s muscles ached and his lungs burned. He exchanged weapons, not breaking the rhythm of his gunfire.

The clone hesitated at the end of the corridor, looking from left to right, his long black hair swinging over his shoulders. Berke shot him in the shoulder blade and he spun around, a gun dropping from his twitching fingers, the barrel clinking against the metal floor.

“Do you surrender, clone?” Berke approached him cautiously, both his guns aimed at the clone’s scarred face. He saw the resemblance to his father now, his features achingly familiar.
A clone of a clone of my father.

“Never,” the clone sneered, his eyes as hard as Chamele 1’s ice crust. “And my name is Twelve, not clone. Scream that when you die.” He dived to the right, raising his remaining gun.

Berke lunged toward him, pressing his triggers in rapid succession, riddling the clone’s body with bullets, inflicting wounds too deep and too severe to heal. The clone, Twelve, shook on the floor, blood dripping from his thin lips, his death noises slowly fading.

“Gotcha,” Berke uttered one of Ellie’s favorite phrases.

She didn’t respond, the silence eerie.

“Ellie.” A sheet of heart-stopping cold swept over Berke. He pivoted on his boot heels and froze, a band of pain constricting around his chest.

“Gotcha.” Tolui grinned, the humor not reaching his black eyes. Blood streamed down his right leg, his leg coverings torn. He stood with his feet braced apart, his left arm slung across Ellie’s frail neck and a gun pressed to her side. She pulled at his arm and kicked her feet, her boots not touching the floor, her eyes wide.

“This is between you and me, Tolui.” Berke struggled to contain his rage, his claws pricking his skin. “Don’t hurt her.”

“Lower your guns.” Tolui shifted his grip, lowering his arm, and Ellie gulped air, gasping and sputtering. “And I’ll let her go.”

“He won’t let me go.” The rawness in Ellie’s voice escalated Berke’s anger. “Shoot him, Berke. Aim for his shoulder if you can’t bring yourself to kill him.”

“She’ll be dead before you press the trigger,” Tolui warned, shaking Ellie’s small body, rattling her teeth.

Berke tightened his grip on his guns. Tolui living was no longer an option, not after the clone threatened and hurt his
gerel
.

“You could end the war right now, Berke.” His rash female continued to talk, risking her life by invoking her captor’s ire. “You’ll save lives, your people’s lives. Think of your people.”

“My people?” Berke stared at Ellie. “I can’t think of my people now.”

“You can. You love your people.” A sheen of moisture covered Ellie’s brown eyes.

“I love you more.” Berke crouched, setting his guns flat on the floor. “I’d give up everything for you, Ellie—my planet, my people, my life.”

“Berke, no,” she pleaded.

“So the great Warlord
does
have a weakness.” Tolui smirked, loosening his clasp on Ellie. Her boots touched the floor, her heels ringing on the metal.

“I’m not a weakness. I made an error,” Ellie explained, her tone defensive. “I didn’t know Tolui was so fast. I was distracted and he surprised me.”

“He did more than surprise you,” Berke muttered, blaming himself, not his mate, for this situation. He’d left her alone to face Tolui. He fixed his gaze on his soon-to-be-dead enemy. Blood pooled around the clone’s big black boots, an injury he could exploit.

“You vowed to let her go,” Berke added louder. “She’s a frail human female and not part of this war.”

Ellie stiffened, her shoulders straightening, and Berke braced, cursing his mate’s pride.
For once in your rebellious life,
gerel
, follow someone else’s lead.

As though hearing his silent plea, she suddenly sagged against the Chamele clone, her form disturbingly limp and lifeless. “Berke is right.” Her voice was pitifully weak. “I should have stayed on Dorian 2. I was safe there.”

She wasn’t safe on Dorian 2.
Berke met Ellie’s gaze, her face shielded from Tolui’s watchful gaze by her thick brown curls.
She fought off an attacker.
She flashed him a lightening-quick grin, the same grin she always wore before she implemented one of her crazy plans.

Son of a
Gechii
.
He swallowed a groan.
She’ll be the death of me.

“Are you breaking your vow, Tolui?” Berke taunted, drawing the clone’s attention away from Ellie. “I’m unarmed yet you continue to cower behind a tiny female.” He curled his top lip, openly revealing his disgust, and Tolui’s eyes blazed with anger. “Let her go and fight me like a warrior.” Berke contracted his muscles, preparing to act. “Or are clones incapable of honor?”

“Only fools risk victory for honor.” Tolui aimed his gun toward Berke. “There is no need to prove my hon—”

Ellie drove her elbows into the clone’s stomach and Tolui folded over, gasping. Berke sprang forward, bellowing with rage, extending his claws. A shot rang out, the impact flinging Ellie back, her ass skidding along the floor, and Tolui’s gun dropped to the wire mesh.

“Ellie!” Berke skewered Tolui on his claws and threw him down the hallway. The clone connected with the wall, bones crunched and his form stilled.

“Ellie.” Berke rushed to his
gerel
’s side, his heart pounding. “Ellie.” He fell to his knees in front of her and sharp shards of pain jabbed up his thighs. “My Ellie.” He brushed back her long, brown curls, revealing her pale face.

“Did we get him?” She wheezed, holding her stomach.

“Did he get you?” He pried her fingers away from her body and probed the long, deep horizontal tear in her body armor, finding no bullet and no blood. “The bullet skimmed your stomach.” Berke released his breath. “Are you hurt?” He grazed the red marks around her neck.

“He didn’t hurt me very much, surprisingly. My skin didn’t blister. My tolerance to strange males must be increasing.” Ellie gave him a feeble smile. “Where?” She coughed. “Where is Tolui?”

Berke turned his head. The corridor was empty. “He’s gone.” He frowned, shifting closer to Ellie, protecting his
gerel
being his highest, his only priority.

Ellie clutched his right arm, digging her short, blunt nails into his skin, and she struggled to her feet. “We have to capture him, stop him.” She swayed.

Berke swung her into his arms, her weight slight. “
We
are not doing anything, foolish female.” He carried her toward their sleeping chambers, planning to lock her in before hunting Tolui down.

“Tolui didn’t pass us. He must have run in the other direction.” She reached over his shoulder, stretching her hand toward the vacant corridor. “He’ll access my bridge and—”