Page 35 of Stalker
“They are warm-blooded, but I have no knowledge of testing them for genetic compatibility,” he said.
“Maybe you can find out when the prisoners are interrogated.”
“I will ask. Right now, I want to go out and check the flyers for survivors… and to see if any are salvageable.”
“May I come?” Neely was asking him as her commanding officer rather than her mate.
“Yes. I think everything is under control here.”
Blackwood lay on the floor with his hands cuffed behind him. Brandix was in the sitting room with the woman he’d rescued from Blackwood’s bedroom. He’d freed her, helped her find clothing to put on, and brought her downstairs before the upper story was nearly obliterated.
The first flyer was intact, but the pilot had fled. The second was a total wreck from being shot and crashing through the building.
Neely turned to see where the third shuttle landed in time to see the pilot taking aim at them with a long gun. The first bolt whizzed by Stalker’s head. Neely pulled out her blaster and shot him before he could fire again, only feeling a little guilty that she had reset the pistol to kill.
Holstering the weapon, she turned to Stalker to reassure herself he remained unhurt.
“Thanks, baby,” he said. “I’m glad you insisted on coming with me. I knew you were ready, but I was afraid… No terrified I might lose you.” He paused, scanning the area by sight and with his internal sensors. Apparently satisfied it was safe, he pulled her against him and hugged her, kissing the top of her head.
It might not have pierced his skull, but the impact could have damaged his processors and organic brain matter. His preoccupation with Neely’s safety had put him in danger.
But Neely was so much stronger than he let himself believe. She put on her armor and took up her weapons, proving how strong and capable she was… And so sexy…
That was enough to make his cock swell. But he willed it back into submission. One of the drawbacks of working with his beloved mate. It was hard to separate his feelings from his job as her supervisor.
Stalker reluctantly set her from his embrace, stifling the temptation to taunt her with what he wanted to do to her when they were home alone again. He had to halt that line of thinking while he processed what he still needed to do.
The protectors quickly replaced the captives they had liberated from the old school building. It was mid-morning when Stalker got Vradin Blackwood back to the makeshift jail. He took him to a room with a table and two chairs to interview him. Sitting him in a chair at the table with his hands still bound behind his back, Stalker sat in the chair across the table from him.
“Why? Why would you sell your people to the Mesaarkans? Do you have any idea how many billions of humans they killed?”
“They aren’t my people. They live like filthy animals in the rubble, fighting over scraps of food and rutting with any female they can find whether she wants it or not,” Blackwood growled vehemently. “They were all I had to offer. The Eastern Overlords were trading with me at first, then I met a middle man for the aliens. Going through him, I got three times the merchandise.”
“Who is this middle man?” Stalker demanded.
“He’s one of your kind. A cyborg named Colton Price. When we have a full load, I call him, and he sends a hover transport to pick them up. Then they drone ship payment in the form of tech and weapons.”
“What you have done is treason to the Federation. You and your gangers are going to prison.”
“Well, fuck you and the Federation! Where the hell were they when we were down here fighting to stay alive?”
“They—We were out there in the galaxy trying to save humanity on every world they’ve colonized. Some greedy prospectors were more concerned with the credits they could make on a mining colony than sentient life. They murdered two hundred Mesaarkans and tried to cover it up. Only one escaped.
“The Mesaarkans rained down hell on every human colony they could find, starting with Earth. That you have sold humans to the Mesaarkans for profit warrants no mercy. The only reason I don’t kill you… A quick death is more than you deserve. Sending you to Penta Prison Planet is far more fitting.”
Seeing no further need for questioning, Stalker stood and came around the table. He gripped Blackwood’s upper arm, pulling him to his feet and knocking over the chair. He dragged Vradin Blackwood to an empty cell and pushed him into it after uncuffing him.
Chapter Nineteen
After putting Blackwood in a cell, Stalker went looking for Neely. Even the therapy he received for PTSD didn’t make him forget his war experiences. It allowed him to remember but not let it intrude on his daily life.
After the day he’d had so far, he wanted to hold his mate. He found her outside, consoling the female Vradin Blackwood had tied to his bed. She was crying.
“This cyborg says he is my male, that I am his mate. I don’t want to belong to any man, I don’t want to be touched, and I don’t want to fuck anyone,” she sobbed.
Neely hugged her and let her cry.
“Rena, it’s going to be okay. Cyborgs are not like the men who hurt you. They have been trained to treat women well. Brandix won’t force you to do anything. The medics can help you,” Neely soothed.
