Page 2 of Fated to the Hunter
I knew that after this display of strength, this warrior was sure to have gained at least a dozen new admirers.
But he wasn’t anything more than eye candy for me. First, I wasn’t interested in anything serious, and most relationships with Xarc’n warriors turned serious real quick, especially if they thought you were their mate. And second, they reminded me too much of everything I’d lost when the world fell apart.
Our Xarc’n warrior was now retrieving the twin blades from his back. The moment the blades left their scabbards, the edges turned a bright white-blue, beaming with plasma energy. He lunged, swinging his weapons in practiced arcs, his ponytail of dark, wiry hair whipping behind him like a model on a romance cover. The way he wielded the massive glowing blades was nothing short of impressive.
Yup. This guy was racking up the crushes in real time.
I glanced over at Holly, who was practically drooling over him.
The flyer waved its tail in the air over its head, ready to strike. It happened so fast, all I got out was a squeak before the spikecame crashing down. But the hunter was faster. He rolled out of the way just in time to avoid being impaled, and the tail slammed into the ground, the spike so strong and sharp that it cracked the concrete.
But the beast’s tail was already rising. Once more it struck, and the hunter dodged. Except, this time, the flyer had the misfortune of hitting the ground right between two concrete slabs. Its sharp tail pierced into the ground below, momentarily getting stuck in the dirt. That single second was all the hunter needed. He moved, fast as lightning, his glowing blades dancing. Before I knew it the flyer was dead, and our hero was pulling a blade from the creature’s eye.
It was a clean kill, one almost impossible for a human to accomplish without using a high-powered rifle and perfect aim. Straight through the eye was the only way to avoid a mess. And that was super important. Scourge guts and their symbiotic fungus couldn’t be allowed to contaminate the market.
We also had a no-projectile-weapon rule in effect in the market because we didn’t want any friendly fire on such a special day. We didn’t need the first annual Trader’s Market to be marred by any unnecessary deaths.
Almost immediately, men wearing hazmat suits—yes, it did seem a little excessive, but bug remains were the definition of biohazard—came running out of the rec center, the closest building, with equipment to clean up the mess.
I ran to Garrett, who was still sprawled on the ground where he’d tripped, and offered him a hand to help him up.
“You got lucky this time,” I said. “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to run unless you know for fucking sure that you’re going to make it? There was no way! That door is way over there!”
“I know. I know.” He brushed himself off. “I panicked. Aren’t the shuttles supposed to shoot them down before they get close?”
“They are. But you know they can’t get every single one,” I said as we hurried back to our booth.
He blew out a breath. “Yeah. I know.”
The shuttles weren’t the only defense we had. Deciding to run an outdoor market during the bug apocalypse sounded like crazy talk, or at least it had a few years ago. A gathering of this many people would be irresistible to the deadly space bugs. We were, after all, their favorite food.
But this was New Franklin, and not only had we destroyed the nest at the center of town, but we’d also managed to prevent any new nests from forming in the area. This was the safest location for such an event. And besides, we really needed this.
It had been six years since the first scourge landed on Earth. Six years since the Xarc’n warriors, super soldiers genetically modified to hunt the scourge, came to help. Six years since my life was turned upside down and I lost everyone and everything I knew.
The fact that we were still alive was nothing short of a miracle. A miracle and lots and lots of hard work. But no matter how hard we tried, it was impossible to continue living in isolation from the rest of the world. Even with the help of the hunters.
This First Annual Trader’s Market was open to any and all Xarc’n-friendly groups, and many had traveled a long way, some by land, and others by shuttle, to come here with extra food, supplies, knowledge, and other things they wished to trade. It wasn’t only physical items either.
Information was super important too. All the Tech Wizards, a traditional Xarc’n military role now commonly filled by humans who understood their technology, were here for their first North America Tech Wiz Meet Up.
This market was a big deal, and it required big security. Every group in attendance had hunters here to keep the scourge hungry and the humans alive.
The Xarc’n warrior who’d just saved the day was stomping toward us, an angry look creasing his purple brow. His golden eyes locked on mine, and he scowled before baring a set of sharp fangs.
Chapter 2: Bael’k
There it was again: the deliciously enticing scent I’d encountered the last time I’d visited New Franklin. I hadn’t found the source last time, despite searching every kitchen in the settlement, and now I understood why. I’d been looking for the wrong thing.
No wonder I hadn’t found it! The scent wasn’t food. It was a female!
I opened my mouth and inhaled, tasting the air. The male standing next to her, the one who’d tried to run from the flyer, gasped and took a step back.
Krux! My fangs were out. That must’ve scared him.
It had scared the female, too, but there was something underlying the scent of fear, something much more tempting: interest.
Her cheeks, which were covered in a splatter of pale, unique markings, flushed a delightful shade of pink that was nearly as bright as her halo of curly, flame-colored hair.
