Sure, lots of mercs had poker faces. No one wanted to go up against T’Raal on game night, for example. That way was a quick road to losing all your credits and cleaning the latrine tanks for a month... but all of those could back up a poker face with bloody and brutal violence.
Somehow, he didn’t think his little mouse could. He suspected her poker face was all the armor she had.
“Good. Get up,” she ordered, motioning him to stand at the same time she did while keeping her back to the crate. He could have crossed the space between them in a heartbeat but he didn’t. He wanted to see where this was going. How she wanted to play this out.
He stood, and her eyes widened as she realized how much bigger he was.
“Okay,” he said, his voice mild and low. “What now?”
He saw the indecision in her face and bit back his chuckle. She hadn’t thought this far ahead.
But then any answer she might have made was lost as the door behind her swung open to reveal Fin.
“No!” Skinny ordered in Latharian, holding his hand out as Fin reached for his own gun. “Don’t hurt her. I got this!”
2
She’d never seen anyone move so quickly.
Marika gasped in the back of her throat as Altav got between her and the other guy in a heartbeat. She didn’t understand the language as the two behemoths snarled at each other, but the expressions on their faces said it all. The other guy wanted to kill her, and Altav was stopping him.
Her heart pounded in her ears as she pressed herself further back against the packing cases. The gap she’d hidden the gun in was tiny, but if she could have crammed herself in there, she would have. However, even as skinny and underweight as she was, she’d never have fit in there.
Keeping her arms raised, she tried to cover them both with the big gun. Her hands ached and her arms shook, but she didn’t dare lower it. Not with how quickly she’d just seen Altav move. If she did, she’d never raise it again in time, and it was her only security here.
At least… the threat of it was. Just the idea of firing it and hurting him was enough to make her feel sick.
Weak, pathetic, her father’s voice echoed in her ears. Why couldn’t your mother have done something useful and borne me a boy instead of a stupid weakling like you?
She bit her lip, her hands tightening around the grip of the gun. How the hell did he even use this thing? It was like a damn canon. Then her gaze flicked to his hand, gripping the other guy’s shirt in his throat, and she had her answer. His hands were huge and strong. He’d have no trouble using this.
The other guy snarled a vicious reply, spitting it right in Altav’s face where he had him pinned against the door frame. No, pinned was the wrong word. Neither of them looked cowed or like they were backing down as they snarled at each other in their odd language. It was more like two alpha males butting heads, neither willing to give ground.
She shivered as the other one shot her a dark and dangerous look that made her shiver and want to draw closer to Altav for protection. The new guy was dangerous with a lethal aura that sent cold chills down her spine.
That wasn’t to say Altav wasn’t dangerous. He looked just as dangerous as the other one—he really did—but it was the kind of dangerous that had flutters starting low in her stomach and made her want to press her thighs together.
She bit her lip and ignored the screaming pain in the muscles of her arms. She wished she understood what they were saying. It was about her. She just knew it was. They were probably discussing which airlock to throw her out of.
She watched them through wide eyes as they seemed to come to some agreement. The other guy smirked, snorting something, and then retreated. The door slid shut behind him and Altav turned, leaning back against it to watch her. He studied her with warm blue eyes, completely ignoring the gun she held on him.
“He’s gone. You don’t need to worry,” he said in accented Terran standard, a small smile curving his lips. “It’s just us, little mouse.”
He pushed off from the door and she gasped, jerking the gun higher to point right at his chest. “Stay right there. Don’t come any closer!”
“Or what?” He lifted an eyebrow, taking another step toward her. “What are you going to do, little one? Hmmm? Hit me with the pipe again?”
She didn’t look down to where the pipe was, instead keeping her eyes firmly on him.
“You won’t fool me like that,” she told him, fighting to keep her voice from sounding so breathless and… cutesy. No one took her seriously because she looked like a damn china doll. Small. Weak. Her grip tightened on the gun. “I don’t need the pipe when I have this.”
The corner of his mouth quirked like he was holding back a grin. It didn’t fool her. She could see the smile in his eyes along with the fact he was watching her like a predator. A frown creased her brow. She had the gun, so he should fear her. She had the power here… why wasn’t he scared of her?
He took a step closer. “You’re not going to shoot me, little mouse.”
His voice was warm and low, sending shivers down her spine and heat through her blood. Gods, if he could do that with his voice, what could he do with his hands? His lips? She locked the thought down and glared at him. The gun was pointed directly at his chest. If she pulled the trigger… her hands shook. It would kill him. It couldn’t do anything else at this range.
“I so will. I’ve killed before,” she argued, trying to sound tough. She didn’t know who she was trying to persuade—him or herself.
He didn’t seem persuaded, stepping close enough that the muzzle of the big handgun pressed right in the center of his wide chest. The metal pushed on the fabric of his shirt, creating wrinkles.
“No,” he repeated. “You won’t.”
She couldn’t look away, captured by his gaze. His eyes were odd, the pupils not quite round and she blinked as he smiled. All her instincts screamed that he was too close, surrounding her and pinning her in against the storage cases to cut off any escape.
“I-I will…” Her breathless protest was cut off as he covered her hand on the gun with his. Large and warm, she bit her lip as her skin tingled where he touched her.
“No, you really won’t.”
Gently he took the gun from her unresisting hands, sliding it into the holster on his hip as he leaned in. His other hand remained on the crate by her head as his breath stirred the hair at the side of her neck. “You want to know why, little mouse?”
She closed her eyes, trying to stay as still as possible. Predators could sense fear and Altav was the biggest predator she’d ever met.
His rumble of amusement was deep and rich. “When you want to shoot a man… make sure the safety catch is off.”
The gasp escaped and she turned her head to look up at him, only then realizing her mistake. His lips were less than an inch from hers, his very nearness making her weak at the knees. He was huge, heavily muscled and smelled so good. Everything froze, anticipation rolling through her as he leaned down. He was going to kiss her. He had to kiss her. Her lips tingled in anticipation, the spell he wove around her holding her in place.
A three-note chirp from the speakers overhead broke the spell.