If those were his labels, he might as well live up to them!
Grimly, he let his hand brush the heavy yat-stick still concealed beneath his tunic; forced his face into the caricature of a grin as he gazed at Nelva.
The girl seemed scarcely to be breathing.
Dane said softly, "We're getting out of this place. You and me, together. We're going to walk through the entry door at the far end of this room. Understand?"
Nelva's eyes distended, wide with sudden panic. Her mouth started to open.
Dane caught her wrist in a savage grip; twisted so sharply she came forward on tiptoe, face drawn with pain. "Scream and I'll break your arm!"
Only the faintest flicker of Nelva's lids indicated that she'd heard him. But she turned as he did under the pressure on her wrist and moved with him in the direction of the doorway.
Behind them, a loud voice cried, "Hey, there!"
Dane flung a quick glance back; glimpsed the guards starting towards him.
With a curse, he shoved Nelva forward, ahead of him, in a frantic dash for the door.