Page 39 of Surrender
He opened his mouth to reply, but a shadow moved in front of them. Soon followed by two additional shadows. Merokk tensed and pushed Betsy behind him as the three human males came into focus. All were dressed in black and two of them wore cuts and bruises on their faces.
When the human males paused in front of Merokk, not moving out of the way, he became certain of their nefarious intentions. It would be their undoing. Didn’t they realize who he was? He wasn’t an unseasoned warrior. He was Merokk, son of Penka, a decorated Kall warrior, and a powerful ambassador. If he decided to allow these miscreants to survive this encounter, he could have them sent to a labor camp or locked away for the rest of their miserable lives.
“What is it?” Betsy asked in a quavering whisper.
The need to protect her filled him. He would do anything to keep her safe. Murder. Lie. Steal. Commit the worst acts of violence. All that mattered was protecting her.
“Stay behind me, little one. But if a fight breaks out, you are to run directly for the hovercar. Do you understand?”
She sucked in a shaky breath. “Yes, I understand.”
“If you don’t turn around and walk away immediately,” Merokk said to the men, his deep voice echoing off the nearby buildings, “I will spill your blood on the sidewalk.” He unsheathed the long knife he carried for protection and it glinted in the moonlight.
He waited to see if the human men would flee or reveal weapons of their own. It was the latter, and each man soon withdrew a knife from his pocket. One of the men staggered, looking intoxicated, and after a deep inhale Merokk deduced that all three of them must’ve been drinking. It would be an easy fight. Too easy. Perhaps he would take his time carving them to bits. His blood hummed with the anticipation of battle.
But then he remembered Betsy. Even though he’d instructed her to flee to the hovercar once a fight broke out, she would still probably glimpse some of the carnage. He didn’t wish to frighten her, didn’t wish to remind her that he’d killed thousands of her fellow humans in a similar manner during the war.
“Don’t worry. After we kill you, you fucking Kall, we will take good care of that woman of yours,” the shortest of the men said. “I reckon she probably misses human cock.” He shot a leering glance around Merokk, in Betsy’s direction. “And lucky for her, there are three of us!”
All the human men chuckled. Their threat to harm his beloved wife sealed their fate. Even though he suspected they operated under the foolish bravery wrought from too much drink, he would show no mercy.
“Step back a few paces, little one, then run into the street to avoid the fight. Once you reach the hovercar, have the driver lock it down. You will be safe, I promise.”
“But what about you?” she whispered.
He gave a dark chuckle. “You need not worry about me.”
He heard the shuffle of her feet as she stepped back a few paces.
Then he made his move. He threw his knife directly at the first man, plunging it straight into his heart. The rebel collapsed, his eyes wide with the knowledge of certain death. A growl of satisfaction ripped from Merokk’s throat.
He tried to listen for sounds of Betsy complying with his command, but he couldn’t hear the potential noise of her footsteps over the sudden cursing of the remaining men. The need to have her close and wrap his arms around her pushed him to dispatch these last two rebels quickly.
As one tried to jump him, he snatched the knife from his hand and hurled it at his companion, who’d hesitated to attack in a bout of obvious fear. After that, a single, bone crunching punch ended the human male who’d come at him. The man collapsed with a noticeable dent in his skull.
Merokk paused and surveyed the scene, listening for any sounds of breathing, wanting to verify all three men were deceased. But he only heard the breathing of one individual, and the sound was coming from behind him.
Fluxx. He spun and locked eyes with Betsy.
“I thought I told you to run to the hovercar.” Agitation rushed through him.
“Please,” she said, her face crumpling. “I-I didn’t mean to disobey you, Merokk.”
“Then why didn’t you run?” He strode forward and grasped her arm. “I wanted you to seek safety in the hovercar.”
“I-I tried,” she said, suddenly shaking. “But my legs wouldn’t work. I’m sorry. I-I couldn’t move.”
He softened his grip on her arm, and guilt promptly fell upon his shoulders. What an unfamiliar emotion. He almost didn’t recognize it. He sighed deeply.
“Forgive me for yelling at you, Betsy. I only wished to keep you safe, and I didn’t mean for you to witness what just happened.” What if he’d decided to savor the kills, to torment the rebels as he slowly cut them to pieces? She really ought to have run.
He clasped her shaking hands and searched her face. Was she afraid of him now? Did she feel any pity for the human males he’d just slain?
“Why did they want to hurt you?”
“Some human males are foolish, and they cannot accept that the war is over. While rebel attacks like this are happening less and less, they still occur from time to time.”
He noticed her legs starting to buckle, and he immediately swept her up in his arms.
