Page 29 of Guardian's Heart

"No."

I braked with my feet. He was so much stronger than me that he pulled me a few paces before he realized I wasn't moving.

"No?"

He glared at me furiously. "No. It's too dangerous. You will be safe aboard my ship. You can shower, eat, rest."

That gave me pause. Shower?

My stubborn nature however won out. I held out my arm with the tattoos. For good measure, I removed the material of the cloak to make him look at the entire thing. "I'm not." I paused dramatically. "Going to wait on your ship, writhing in pain, while you prance through town."

His glare intensified, but my words sunk in with him. He looked heavenward before he changed direction and started moving again.

"Alright." He yelled.

Since I was walking behind him—dragged would have been the better word—he missed my gloating expression. It was petty, but I couldn't help myself.

"At least put your hood up," he snarled over his shoulder.

I gritted my teeth at him having the last word but conceded to the wisdom and covered my head with one hand while he kept moving us forward. In order to keep the hood in place, I stared down at the ground and grumbled quietly to myself.

"Well, what do we have here?" a voice rang out; a set of feet moved into my field of vision, and I felt my free arm yanked back.

"Do not touch her," Zaarek snarled.

"Hran, that's a Space Guardian," another voice stated, and I looked up, wishing immediately that I hadn't.

"What is that?" A thirdmanstepped from the shadows, grabbing my arm, followed by two more.

An irritated sigh from Zaarek reached my ear before he pulled me free from the other's grip and pushed me behind him. Speechless, I allowed it to happen because the five, no seven now, men—creatures—who accosted us were something straight out of a nightmare.

It seemed none of the aliens fancied shirts because these creatures' chests were unadorned, exposing a sickly-looking,washed-out aqua coloring. Their skin was loose and bloated, giving me the heebie-jeebies.

Long loincloths covered their midsection and part of their thighs. Long, dirty-looking white hair grew from their heads, elbows, and knees. Their eyes glowed whitish in the darkened ally, but what spooked me the most were their faces. They looked… melted, drooping, as if gravity was pulling every loose piece of flesh down except the skin on their wide noses. Their lips were peeled back, making it look like they were snarling, exposing yellowed, sharp, long teeth.

What in the hell were these creatures?

"Get back," Zaarek ordered.

"Give us the pretty," the thing who had held my arm—an arm I was now furiously rubbing to get his touch off—said, pronouncing pretty like pruttttyyy.

"Not happening," Zaarek replied in a clipped tone, pulling a knife.

A knife? Go for your goddam blaster, I wanted to scream, uncaring how wicked-long and serrated it was. There were seven of those creatures now, no, wait, eight. Nine!

"Zaarek," I pushed out warningly.

"Stay behind me," he hissed.

"Fuck this," I mumbled, pulling one of his guns, weapons, blasters, whatever the fuck they were.

"Nova, no," Zaarek ordered, but I was already trying to figure out how the thing worked. Apparently, like every other gun I had ever held. The trigger needed more pushing than I was used to, but there was no kickback when a brilliant white light emerged, hitting the thing straight in his chest.

"Fuck!" I jumped back as the creature exploded into a million blueish pieces of flesh and… goo, raining down on us in a heap of gore.

"You never listen," Zaarek complained, aiming his knife at the first incoming monster.

My shot must have activated some kind ofrush them noworder because all seven of them came at us at once. I didn't care what mess would happen next; I gritted my teeth and shot at the first creature. Only to be rewarded by another explosion of flesh.

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