Page 83 of The Commander

“She is your blessed mate,” the priestess corrected.

“She’s mine,” he snapped his teeth at Eld. How dare she assume he didn’t value his Kitten?

“You’ve learned nothing. We shall return to the ship, and we shall make it our personal mission to teach you your place.” Her hover disc lifted off the ground as she pointed at him.

“I think I got it, Bastian!” Kitten’s shout sounded like triumph.

There was a soft snick in his head. A click that shouldn’t be there. Behind him, he heard the grunts in the mayor’s building bark. They heard it too.

The humans moved as one, turning to gawk at the reds behind them, sandwiched between alien threats. Whining on the ground next to the two dead men, Brenda tried to climb up the platform to get closer to her people. “Mayor Danov. What’s happening?”

Humans had fed the grunts small amounts of their blood—making friends with them—using them to cow the town. Turning them into full-fledged blood addicts. As the electrical tracking and download chips in Bastian’s head went dead, the same devices deactivated in the grunts. All of them instantly free of their leash in the invisible burst of an EMP pulse.

“Reds! What are you doing?” the priestess asked imperiously.

The engineer next to her tilted his head, his big eyes narrowing. Uncertain if the EMP pulse disconnected the gray-skin, Bastian fired his weapon before leaping to protect Kitten. The male turned to dust in a swirling cloud next to the priestess.

“How dare you!” Eld screamed as dust stained her robes.

The soft bone badges circled, trying to draw her back toward the shuttle. Her red hat guard hesitated. Their head chips had burst by the EMP pulse along with all the others.

Bastian stole a sniff of Kitten’s head as he shoved her into the truck. That scent reminded him of howfucking preciousshe was. Worth his life. Worth everything.

She shouted his name as he got her in but didn’t fight him this time.

On the platform, the humans screamed, red hats succumbing to the frenzy. Claws raked across the soft meat of throat and gut. Copper and salt saturated the air. Bastian wanted to open his lower chin and allow his proboscis to suck in the chaos.

One of the priestess’s domesticated badges shouted about detaining the target.

Another demanded they protect the priestess. Seconds ticked by as her reds ignored orders. Heads raised, as one, they inhaled the scent of human blood like a meal prepared for them by their brothers.

When one lowered its head and relaxed its shoulders, leaning in the direction of the platform, it acted as a signal. The others melted under the pressure of the frenzy. Breaking ranks, they attacked.

Kitten was in the truck. A grunt rushed Bastian while he shoved the margin cell inside the black case—not something he could afford to leave behind—and swept it into the back of the truck.

Reaching for a hairy, bearded throat, he slammed it against the truck as he had slammed Mackie, not holding back. Once. Twice. Three times before he felt bones crumble under his hand, and he could toss the carcass away.

Three uniformed backsides had noticed the open driver’s side door and jammed together trying to get to Kitten. She fought them, screaming her defiance. Yanking one out, blood sprayed across Bastian’s face.

Quickly, he grasped the other two, their belts as a handhold. When they didn’t budge with the first pull, he changed tactics. Hands thrust forward, the extra joint at the ends of his long fingers acted as claws. He punched through flesh, grabbing at spinal cords for his handholds.

One had Kitten’s arm in its grasp. It finally let go as its strength disappeared. He heard her get free with a thump against the door.Shoving himself inside, closing them in, he activated the truck and backed out.

The shuttle sat behind him, blocking a direct exit. The priestess trapped outside between her own frenzied red hats, hovering as high off the ground as possible. The prime battler guard she’d brought to save her stood off to the side, a curious expression on his face as if he’d decided to wait out the results of the carnage.

Gathering as much force as he could, Bastian rammed into two of the legs of the shuttle. As the legs of a device were not meant for hard work, they crumpled inward at a lower joint. It was enough. Turning the truck, he drove them out of the town.

CHAPTER 28 - BASTIAN

Bastian could smell the traces of Kitten’s hot, spicy blood under the nastiness of the reds. She was life, flavor. New beginnings. Would she take it wrong if he leaned over, brought her scratched-up arm to his mouth, and took a little taste?

“What was that?” she asked between breaths. Her heartbeat was too fast, and she’d gone pale. She’d been screaming before but now appeared oddly calm.

Now was not the time for him to indulge in a taste. Later.

“What was what?” he countered, unsure what she was asking. One hand on the wheel, the other fumbled with the truck’s command panel. He ran a quick systems check, gauging the damage from the EMP pulse. He’d prepped the vehicle for their escape, but he wasn’t an engineer or a builder. The engine hummed, but did he still have map access?

Energy reserves?

---