Page 44 of The Commander

Ahhh. That’s right.The heating and ventilation system in this room was broken. Part of the ceiling gaped open, a black hole of temptation. Connected with several other rooms on this side of the building, he knew there was a gap somewhere in the roof letting in fresh air. An escape route if the prisoner was strong enough. They never were, though.

This time the extra air saved what life the human had left, helping circulate the poison. The rebel’s broken leg had swollen to ugly proportions. Bastian heard a wheeze in his every breath. Sounded like he had an issue with his lungs. “Still alive?”

The man glared at him.

“Care to tell me more about those contraband power cells?”

“I don’t want to tell you anything, you big fuck. Go back to where you came from.” He snarled his hate in Bastian’s general direction with swollen, bloodshot eyes.

“I’m considering it, but I’ve found your planet so welcoming.” Bastian baited the man.

“Fuck you. I’m sure you have. My sister couldn’t get enough of blue dick. She lost her mind. I should have killed her.”

“Your sister?” The prisoner’s humanity wasn’t in question—therefore the sister—was a prime battler mate.

That was unexpected. Had Control engineers intentionally chosen this region for a reproduction program? Planted into a young, underdeveloped world, those DNA seeds had slept for more than a thousand years.

“My baby sister. She belonged to the man you murdered, you bluey bastard.” Unhindered vitriol spilled like acid from every word, but Bastian wouldn’t punish the man for it. Yet.

“That must have been years ago.” Bastian didn’t know if Sarrian DNA would override a previous human commitment. Human emotions were a tricky element. Something about this male’s attitude hinted that his sister was better off wherever she was now.

“You expect a man to forget that his only family walked off with a blood sucking alien?” The prisoner broke into a fit of coughing that scrunched up his face and forced him to curl inward on himself, his whole body constricting with the effort.

“Did your sister get a taste of one of my kind? Oh, she must have wanted a decent fuck for once. How else did she manage to walk off with you still here?” Bastian faked a laugh, showing his teeth. This was very interesting and convenient information.

The blood drained from the prisoner’s face as his coughing continued, eyes bulging.

Did this human have something to do with the disappearance of a prime battler and the disconnection of his name day blade? Why had he been left alive to tell tales?

“Do you know the name of the alien?” Bastian asked.

Still coughing, the human’s lips turned a dull gray color. Bastian would be irritated if this source of unexpected information died now. He’d have to have 48001 aid the rebel until there was a better opportunity for a civilized conversation.

Leaving the man to find his next breath, Bastian retraced the evening’s events to make sure he got everything cleared to his liking. He did not want any bit of Kitten left in the building to be examined should Control send an evidence sweep team.

Returning to his apartments, he washed and secured the name day blade. He had questions. Had this belonged to that other prime his captive had mentioned? Who else could it be? What did his mate know?

He’d wasted enough time with the red hats’ nonsense. Clean but still wet, he went to the bed where he’d left Kitten tied, spread eagle. So exhausted she’d fallen asleep, he had a chance to admire his mate in the dimmed lights.

Her hair was garishly bright against her skin. He didn’t understand it. The red came naturally to her, but it didn’t quite match the hair on the other places on her body. She’d taken color out, then put color back with chemicals for no good reason that he could guess. It looked overtly bold and angry against the spotted and white expanse of her milky skin and fragile lines.

Perhaps she had done that to herself to hide how small she was. Delicate. So under fed he could see her ribs. There were scrapes on her elbows and knees, raw marks left behind from his use, bruises, but shockingly, not a single broken bone. Having broken enough human bones to know they snapped like thin wood under his hands, he couldn’t believe she hadn’t harmed herself by attacking him.

He grinned, proud. She had certainly tried.

Releasing the ropes, he carried her with him back into the shower. He’d love a good ion bath for her but would have to make do with dreary soap and water. Soap wouldn’t do a damn thing to help her heal faster, but it would keep the small wounds from getting worse and wipe away the grime.

He had the water set at his favorite cool temperature, thinking to ease her into wakefulness. Holding her in his arms and allowing it to cascade over her back.

She woke up screeching and clawing at the first touch of water. “What the fuck?”

“None of those filthy human words now, Kitten. You will only say fuck if you want to feel my cock pounding into your pussy.” Bastian covered the back of her head with his hand to keep her from banging it against the wall of the narrow space. His bigger palm easily forced her head back, so that she had to look him directly in the eyes when he spoke.

He wasn’t sure she heard him since she was busy kicking and sputtering.

“You don’t put a sleeping person in a freezing shower!” She yowled. Clinging to him, her legs tightened as she lifted herself up, trying to evade the water and pressing her breasts into his chest.

“I do whatever I wish,” he answered her against the lovely curve of her neck.