Page 27 of Captured

His lip curled.

If there was anyone near the door they were too still for him to spot, so he eased the door open the rest of the way. Stepping out into the space around the support, he gave his wings a cautious stretch, watching the skin he’d stitched back together for any signs of pulling. It was still too soon to test it by flying, but he decided it might hold if he had no other choice.

Checking the scents in the stale air, there was a trace of strange alpha, but it was hours old. Nothing of Flea’s sweet spice reached him, so he knew she hadn’t been brought nearby. He’d have to retrace his steps to the water recycler and pick up her scent from there.

Gra’ar slipped through the shadows, keeping to the darker patches where his coloration helped him blend in. There was no sight or sound of others, so he had to assume whoever followed him to the stairwell had left and rejoined their group, which was probably better for them since they’d have been the next to die.

He was back in the clearing where he’d left Flea in a short amount of time, the stains lingering on the ground the only sign of what had happened. It was strange to climb to the roof since he normally would have simply flown up to it, and a new respect for the little omega bloomed considering she’d done it with her hands bound and the disadvantage of being shorter.

Once he stood on the tiles it took a moment to pick up her unique scent. It was buried under layers of alpha pheromones that set his hackles rising, the urge to growl and issue a challenge riding him. It was all instinct, a natural response to the note of fertility lingering in her scent, but it offered him another edge of advantage. The alphas he’d seen on the roof with the one who’d taken her had been various species, but most were the typical, populous breeds with few special adaptations. None with the enhanced scent tracking and night vision his species boasted.

Grinning to himself as the rush of the hunt flooded through him, Gra’ar separated three scents from the miasma lingering on the roof. If he lost Flea’s, he’d be able to track one of the others, and eventually they had to lead him to her. His quick little side-job was turning into a full mission, one he was having more fun with than he’d had in years.

He had to shake away the thoughts that tried to crowd in about how much more fun he could have once he had Flea to himself again. The pull of his instincts was potent, and he told himself his attraction to the feisty female was nothing more than biology.

Gra’ar tracked the group across the roof to another before returning to the ground. They’d made their way through narrow alleys like the ones Flea had used to thwart him in their chase on the level above, but since he was on foot it wasn’t an issue to follow. Her scent was weak, barely lingering in the air due to there being no breeze, but the musk of the alphas was unmistakable and easy to follow.

He had no idea how long he followed their trail, but it was longer than he’d lingered in the stairwell. He passed through the desolate cityscape, just another shadow moving amidst the others. The only thing living he encountered was a scrawny sack of bones hiding amidst a pile of rubble, too scared to even breath as Gra’ar slipped by.

A gradual change in scent tipped him off to the fact that he was getting close. The smell of unwashed male grew stronger, burning the inside of his nose and making him struggle with the need to sneeze. Knowing there were likely to be people on the lookout if this was where the gang called home, he resisted the urge and slowed his steps.

The alleys and sidewalks were the obvious way to travel, so they would be the most watched, but their appearance on the roof near the water recycler was proof that they would be watching those as well. The rooftops provided less cover, so in the end he decided to continue following Flea’s scent until he was sure where she was. Then he could figure out how to reach her.

The stench of alphas grew the closer he came to a large warehouse. It seemed to be the most intact building around and was the obvious choice for housing a gang when the other structures in the area were too small for the group he’d seen.

Gra’ar was forced to stop a distance away when the two buildings he walked between ended, leaving nothing but open space between him and his target. He had to admit the location was a good choice for someone who didn’t want to be surprised by any unexpected arrivals, and the people he could see walking the edges of the roof were likely the guards.

He moved deeper into the shadows, curling his wing forward to break up any potential outline he might present to someone with vision like his. It would be unlikely that anyone could see where he stood watching, but he hadn’t survived the types of missions he did for as long as he had by taking unnecessary risks. Risks were inevitable, but it was stupidity and ego that got you killed.

Only years of training kept him in place long enough to learn the pattern of the guards and spot the others lingering near what appeared to be the only entrance into the warehouse. His instincts kept urging him to rush in and save Flea, but if he’d been outnumbered at the water recycler, he was more so now.

Looking around as he tried to decide what to do, Gra’ar grimaced up at the overhead light. This level supported even less of them than the one above, but somehow the warehouse still had two working bulbs above it.

His gaze traveled to one further away, the jagged glass catching his attention. He knew the people in the warehouse would have hand lights but darkening the area around the warehouse would enable him to sneak closer with less chance of being spotted. The only problem was reaching the bulb.

More time passed before the solution to the issue presented itself.

Two alphas came down the path he hid on, their conversation giving them away long before they would have stumbled across Gra’ar. Their confidence being close to their base was their downfall as Gra’ar moved deeper into the alley to be sure they wouldn’t be seen, palming his knife as he let them pass him as he hid in an empty doorway.

The first went down with nothing more than a gurgle, choking on his own blood as Gra’ar slit his neck from behind. The other took two more steps before he realized his fellow had fallen. Mouth opening to call out, all he managed was a wheeze as Gra’ar slipped the blade between his ribs, jerking the knife to the side to be sure.

Gra’ar had seen the silhouettes of the alphas on the roof when they took Flea and knew most of them had worn a belt carrying multiple items. It was only logical for them to have weapons and lights on them, he was only hoping these carried more than the simple metal pipes of the three who’d ambushed them.

Checking the first body, his hope dimmed. The man only had a club. Gra’ar knew it was difficult to get energy weapons or anything more advanced outside the military, but he’d thought they might have something considering they moved illegal drugs.

Moving on to the second body, he almost gave up before he realized what he’d found. Slings were so primitive he almost didn’t recognize it for what it was until he found the pouch of smoothed stones. Hefting its weight in his palm, he frowned up at the bulb overhead.

It was a long way up.

The new levels were built an equal height across the whole planet, and they were never any less than four stories above the tallest building. Even on these older levels, that meant there was no way he was slinging a rock high enough to take out the bulb.

Growling his frustration, Gra’ar went back to the end of the alley, looking out at the warehouse once again. The patrol on the top of the building was spread out enough that he could sneak past as long as he approached from an angle where the guards at the front couldn’t see him. As long as no one else tried to pass through the doors they watched he could take them out to get inside, but there would be no way to hide what happened. He’d have to hurry, which meant he needed to see if he could figure out where exactly in the building Flea was.

Tamping down the impatience his instincts kept flooding him with, Gra’ar moved down the alley to a path that would let him circle around behind the warehouse. It would mean having to work his way around to the front with no cover but the shadows around the building, but it was the best way to cover the open area without being seen.

He worked his way around then back toward his target, pausing behind a stack of wood lining the wall of the building beside him. It appeared to all be old pieces of furniture, nothing else left on the level to use as firewood to keep warm in the constant chill. Even he was starting to feel the drain of the ever-present cold, and he spared a thought for how Flea was faring. Her clothing was thinner than his, everything she’d had to help keep warm lost in her mad rush to escape him, but her encroaching heat would keep her from feeling the lack.

Just the thought of her coming heat had his groin tightening and distracting him. They hadn’t had much time to get her back before she’d been taken by the gang, and he didn’t know how much he’d have left once he rescued her.

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