Page 7 of Chased By the Alien Mercenary
Rising to my feet, I knew I had spooked her with the abrupt movement, so I turned my back to her to show I wasn’t about to pounce. The door was too heavily locked to be practical, so I began testing the bars one after the other, until I found one with a little give. My head ached from where a laser shot had grazed my skull, but otherwise, my body was in good shape. I hadn’t been hurt badly when they’d subdued me and thrown me in here. Maybe a little brute force would limber me up and shake off some of the anxious energy coursing through my body.
The metal groaned when I began to pull, but a different sound halted me in my tracks. Footsteps were approaching—several of them—and the scent that came ahead of them was telling: a stench particular to Krektar alone. I curled my nose in distaste, then found myself sneezing twice as the acrid smell burned my nostrils. “I know, it’s foul,” my female agreed from behind. I looked at her, eyes watering, and discovered she’d pulled her blanket over the lower half of her face to mute the stench. “The question is, are they here for you or for me?”
The answer was her, as it turned out, and that, I could not allow. Rage came hard and swift when they threatened her, both theprotective and the territorial kind. I was lost to the fight then, to the all-consuming need to keep them from laying so much as a finger on her fair skin. I had only just decided that I was going to keep her, after all, and they weren’t going to take her from me.
Chapter 7
Lyra
I think I screamed when my beastly alien companion went down for the second time that day. It felt so wrong this time that I was halfway across the cell and at his side before I could even consider if that was a dumb or smart move. Probably dumb, but the Krektar were licking their own wounds and not paying me any attention this time.
Skidding to my knees at the fallen alien’s side, I tried to figure out what to do to help him. The door to our cell had slammed shut immediately after he’d collapsed, but I still kept his body between me and the threat on the other side. He didn’t look wounded—at least, not like the bleeding, clawed-up Krektar he’d gone all enraged feral beast on again.
Laying my head against his chest seemed like a dangerous thing to do, but I couldn’t see it rise and fall this time, and I wanted to make sure he still lived. They’d shocked him with some kind of cattle prod stick, over and over. What if he’d had a heart attack? As the Krektar retreated and the lights were turned off, I settled my ear against the black armor over my alien’s massive chest. A thump greeted me almost immediately, and then another. Good, so he was alive. Relief made me sink down against him for a brief moment, soaking up his warmth.
“I owe you a thank you. Nothing good would have come of them taking me from this cell. Pretty sure you’re much better company.” Oddly enough, I knew that was the absolute truth. I no longer thought he was going to kill me as soon as he woke. Hehadn’t last time, and I’d begun to believe he was more worried about approaching me than the other way around. The way he’d huddled in a corner and paced the cell like a trapped predator. He was definitely all feral and terrible at communicating, but maybe that was just because my translator implant didn’t have his language. I had a feeling he understood me, or at least some of what I said.
With the Krektar gone and my date with that awful, gold-embossed, fancy boots postponed, I was once again stuck waiting. At least this time, I wasn’t scared out of my mind, just worried about my poor companion. I didn’t know what to do for him other than sit with him and wait. So I talked while I did, about my life and the stupid blue monkeys on Colony Planet 12, my boss and his nose for a good story but sucky survival skills, and how I hadn’t been any better.
I worried he’d have another nightmare, and at the same time, almost wanted to see what would happen if he did. Would he suck me into his dreamworld again? Would I need to rescue the boy—him—from the rubble once more? But he didn’t dream, and this time, he was not out for very long. A few minutes at the most, just long enough for the wounded, angry Krektar to leave. I had a feeling they’d be back with reinforcements, and they wouldn’t stop for a non-lethal scuffle, they’d kill him, then take me. I was certain of that.
When he opened his ruby eyes, he blinked down at me where I still sat huddled close to his wide chest to stay warm. He did not growl or snarl this time—not even bared his sharp teeth. He just blinked, slow, confused, a little uneasy perhaps, but not as defensive and angry as last time. I called that an improvement.
“Hi, welcome back,” I said to him, and then, wholeheartedly: “Thank you for that. I don’t want to contemplate what they would have done to me if they’d taken me from here…” His answering growl was so loud that I clamped my hands over my ears in shock, tumbling backward. It wasn’t exactly because I was worried he’d bite my head off, just that it was so bloody loud.
Catching me completely by surprise, his arms came around me, trapping me against his chest, and his growl cut off in the middle, abruptly plunging us back into silence. Almost as if he’d realized the noise hurt my ears. Being in his arms was also a very different, new experience. This close to him, I could smell his pleasant, musky scent, and, for the first time, I wasn’t cold anymore. Given how wild and feral he was, how skittish about contact he’d seemed, this new development was the last thing I expected.
“Oh, okay,” I said as he pulled me closer into his lap, scooting up into the corner like before, only this time, he took me with him. I didn’t feel threatened because he’d protected me against the Krektar. Granted, that could have been the instinct of a cornered animal rather than a conscious choice, but still. “If we’re going to get all close and personal, maybe I should introduce myself. I’m Lyra.”
I would have added my last name, but that was rather meaningless out here, and I was pretty sure this guy couldn’t talk at all. Did he even have a name? He cocked his head at me, listening but not talking, and I was suddenly extremely aware of how close we were. In his lap, my body was only separated from his by the thin blanket, and I could feel his thick thighs as they cradled my ass. His breathing ghosted over my face—warm and pleasant—and his arms kept me pinned to his chest withsteely strength. Very close, and definitely not going to be able to squirm out of this one. It made my stomach swoop, and that wasn’t nerves.
He huffed, and his warm breath skated over my cheeks. My stomach grew even tighter with the beginning stirrings of arousal. He might be feral, and his face was… well, let’s say different, but he wasn’t bad to look at. Huge, lean, muscular, he was clearly the ultimate fighter, and thus, protector. The ghoulish, skull-like markings on his face were beginning to look dangerous but familiar rather than terrifying. I could actually admire the sharpness of his cheekbones and the cutting edge of his jaw. The way his breathing skated over my face and down into the too-wide collar of my stolen shirt… it did something to me I wasn’t quite ready for, but I also didn’t want to retreat and disturb the delicate balance between us.
“Lyra,” I said again, and I tapped my chest. If I could just convince him to like me, to see me as a person, maybe he’d continue to protect me. The thought of using him made me feel bad, and I briefly flashed to images of him getting shocked by those vicious sticks and winced inwardly. We needed to avoid that at all costs; I didn’t want to see him any more hurt than I wanted to get hurt myself.
Then a curious thing happened. Enough time had passed that I was certain he was never going to respond to my name, but he proved me wrong. His hand shifted along my back, and I felt the heat of it through the thin blanket, sliding up my spine and cupping my shoulder. Then it lifted in the small space between us, and a dark red finger curled, a black talon gleaming at the tip. It retracted like a cat’s claw as he moved it to my chest and tapped.
“Oh, you want me to say my name again?” I asked at the insistent nudge. Was he just mimicking my own gesture, or did he know what it meant? It was a pretty universal action, to tap one’s chest and say your name. I’d introduced myself more than once like that on my extensive travels. Maybe he was just a curious little monkey; the blue ones on Colony Planet 12 would have been clever enough to mimic the motion without actually understanding what it meant. Then he nodded, and I knew he understood a hell of a lot more than those cute blue monkeys had.
“Lyra,” I said, my voice rising with excitement. “My name is Lyra. What is your name?” The arm still curled around my back grew a bit tighter, pressing more of me against his chest, and I had to tilt my chin all the way back so I could still look at his face. It exposed my throat, and that should have made me feel vulnerable, but I wasn’t so scared of his sharp teeth now.
It was like he read my mind and set out to prove me wrong, startling me yet again. A growl rattled between us, not as loud or intimidating as the previous one, as if he’d tempered the noise so as not to hurt my ears. The finger that had tapped my chest shot up and curled against the collar around my throat, the target of his sudden fury. So he knew what that was, and he did not like it.
Taking a few deep breaths to ease the racing of my heart, I nodded awkwardly. “Nothing we can do about that now, yet. We need to try and escape first.” I leaned a little on the wordwe, testing to see if he understood—that is, if he was willing to see this as a partnership. He had certainly gotten awfully cuddly very quickly, not that I was complaining about finally being sorta warm. Though my feet were still planted on the cold floor, my toes were frozen and sore.
His claw tapped against the collar again, and a frisson of unease went down my spine, recalling all too well the pain that thing had caused. I didnotwant him to set that off by accident. Thankfully, he eased up a moment later, and his hand slid back around my shoulder, burrowing under my hair before settling against my neck. Then he tugged, and suddenly my head was beneath his chin, pressed snugly into his embrace.
He was a hugger. Who would have thought that? Honestly, I kind of liked it. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d just sat and hugged with someone, and he was warm, big, and he smelled extremely good. For the first time since I’d woken up in this nightmare—barely dressed, threatened, clearly sold by my own people—I felt safe. Safe because the feral, monster alien was hugging me in his big, brawny arms. Huh. That wasn’t even so weird when I thought about it.
The exhaustion of the past days—the stress—it began to catch up to me then, as if it had been waiting for the chance to pummel me with fatigue now that I felt better. Also not strange, but damn if it wasn’t inconvenient. We weren’t safe at all; I justfeltsafe because he was such a great hugger, and he would bite the head off anyone who tried to approach. Of course, my thoughts jinxed the moment, footsteps echoed from afar, scuffing against the marble in the fancy hallways above. Someone was coming.
I went tense, and then he went tense. The world tilted and shifted as he leaped to his feet and took me with him. I stumbled when he planted me on mine, then pushed me into the corner and stood defensively in front of me. Any doubts that he was protecting me—or himself—went out the window then; he was definitely protecting me. A warmth filled me at that knowledge, but it did not erase the fear for those about to visit us. Was itgoing to be more of the same? How much pain and hurt could my feral alien withstand before they subdued or killed him and took me anyway? Was it selfish of me to hope he’d last a long time?
Peering around the black edge of his armor, I squinted at the figures coming down the stairs in the distance. There were several silhouettes, but with the light behind them, I couldn’t even see their skin color, let alone their faces. Then something shimmered golden. Oh no. Not him. I had clutched the back of my big protector’s sleek black armor before I could curb the impulse. “That’s the boss coming down the stairs now. He’s the one who threw me in here. He’s going to hurt me bad if he takes me.” I couldn’t even twist my tongue around the wordrape—or evenassault—as if saying it would make it too real.
My feral protector rattled as he growled, his back hot against my fingers. It was almost as if he seemed bigger after I’d said that, full of killing intent. Whoever tried to come through that door first was going to be dead, but they weren’t going to be stupid enough to do that. They were going to shoot him, from a distance. Fear for him—for myself—made everything in my chest grow tight. Agony: there was no other word for this kind of anticipation, fearing the worst.
The lights came on, brighter than before, and I winced back, briefly blinded. An unholy sound reverberated through the tunnel, followed by the groaning of metal as it warped and twisted. I blinked, hearing many shouts go up, and then the heat against my hands was suddenly gone.
