Page 67 of Saved By the Alien Hybrid
Sophia flailed onto the shore and crawled in the dirt for a moment before she found her feet. She was tall for a human and leaner than any hybrid. She was wearing the same inconsiderable uniform that the other humans had, but it was now translucent with water.
Cordelia sprang forward and snatched Sophia by the arm as she stumbled past the bush where they were hidden. Her hand clamped over Sophia’s mouth, smothering the scream of surprise the woman loosed. They struggled as Cordelia dragged her deeper into the brush.
“It’s me!” Cordelia said urgently. “It’s Commander Normandy. Calm down!”
Sophia went limp. Her eyes were wild, and her chest heaved from the struggle. Her face crumpled, tears spilling down her cheeks.
“Where did she go?” one of the auretians shouted—the dry one, who’d dropped down onto solid ground while the other swam to shore. There was something vaguely familiar about him. Maybe it was the long, black braid hanging down his back. Rentir couldn’t recall his name.
Rentir peered through the bush, watching the other drag himself onto dry land.
“Soaked for nothing,” the auretian griped, shaking out his short, white hair. “Bitch.”
This one Rentir knew; he’d been part of the rotation accompanying the Lord Commander of theGidalanwhen he deigned to set foot on Yulaira. Melet, a foul-tempered auretian who complained about his assignment at every opportunity. That made him weak, as far as Rentir was concerned. He had no desire to die for honor or money.
“Who even cares if they find the females?” Melet whined. “Let them have a few warm cunts to amuse themselves. They’ll be so busy fighting over them that they won’t even notice when theCeltalairshows up to blow them to pieces.”
TheCeltalair—that was the freighter that came once every three years to collect the next shipment of teserium. They were equipped with far stronger weapons than theGidalanto deal with pirates, given their priceless loads.
“It is not for you to question the Commander’s wisdom,” the other argued.
“Oh, ease up, Yefan. You’re only agreeing with the directive because you’re hoping the Commander will toss some of that snatch your way. You’re always havering on about bonding and settling down.”
Yefan glared at him. “Must you be so crass?”
“Yes.” Melet sniffed, crossing his arms over his chest.
Yefan looked up at the dropship, sighing heavily. “Let us find the female so we can be done with this.”
He pulled up a mask that was hanging loose around his neck, covering his mouth and nose. It was peculiar; Rentir had never seen any of the Aurillon wear such a mask, though he’d seen a similar design among the miners, meant to protect their lungs from the teserium dust as they worked. Melet did the same, then he drew a length of rope from a canister at his hip and stretched it between his hands.
Rentir glanced back at Cordelia, who’d let go of Sophia and put herself between the trembling woman and the other males. She had the blade Melam had given her in her fist, and she was shaking slightly. He thought she was afraid, at first, but when their eyes met, he realized it was a battle rage. With pride, he turned back to the others.
Kneeling, he held up his blaster, closed one eye, and took a deep breath. Holding the air in his lungs, he steadied himself and squeezed the trigger. The plasma bolt only grazed Melet, blowing off the tip of his ear and burning all the flesh on the side of his head. The searing heat had him on his knees screaming, anyway.
Rentir sprang from the bush, launching himself at Yefan, who had turned to gape at Melet. He took the auretian to the ground, scyra lashing at the male’s neck. Yefan recovered before the blade of Rentir’s tail could sever his arteries, bringing up an armored wrist to block the blow. He grunted, rolling until Rentir was pinned beneath him.
“Istaflitplasma round!” Melet shouted, pressing a hand over the wound. “Bastard! Kill him, Yefan!”
Rentir wrapped an arm around Yefan’s neck, legs around the male’s waist, and moved to rake his plasma blade over his throat. Yefan caught at Rentir’s arm with his free hand, the other still struggling to keep his scyra at bay.
“Damn it, Yefan!”
Melet lurched to his feet and drew his blaster. Cordelia burst out of hiding, crying out with anger as she caught the male around the middle. His feet shifted in the soft, uneven earth, and Cordelia managed to upset his center of gravity enough to take him to the ground.
“Cordelia!” Rentir’s heart began to beat double time. He’d expected her to use that blade defensively, not throw herself into danger. He should have known better after their last encounter.
She followed the male down and wrestled him for control of the blaster. Rentir could see the hilt of her blade jutting from the male’s ribs, but it wasn’t enough to weaken him. Melet balled up one massive hand and punched her hard in the side. Something cracked beneath the blow. She wheezed in pain, but she didn’t release her grip on the male’s wrist, refusing to let him turn his weapon on Rentir even at the cost of her pain.
Rentir saw red. A strange, lethal calm spread through him. Suddenly, Yefan’s auretian strength was not enough to combat him. His muscles bulged and burned as he brought the plasma blade into the male’s throat. The blade sank into him inch by agonizing inch as Yefan screamed in agony and tried to jerk free. Rentir felt nothing for his suffering.
When Yefan stopped thrashing, Rentir threw him aside and twisted in the dirt until he was braced on his hands and knees.
Cordelia had ended up under the male, whose mask had been knocked loose in the struggle. She was still managing to keep him from aiming his blaster despite how her arms trembled with the effort.
“I will not bond with an insignificant human whore like you,” Melet spat. He struck at her with his teeth, biting down on her wrist until she screamed, but she would not relent.
Rentir pushed to his feet, staggering over to grab a fistful of the male’s armor and rip him off of Cordelia. He flung him an impossible distance with his otherworldly strength. Melet landed face-first in the lake. Rentir looked down at Cordelia, taking in her injuries. A bruise was already darkening her cheekbone, and the male had bitten clean through her shirt sleeve to the delicate flesh of her wrist beneath. It was a small blessing that he had not chosen to use the fangs concealed beneath his flesh. Rentir had no antidote for the deadly venom they would have administered. The scent of her blood made the world blur. Hatred pounded in Rentir’s veins.
