Alien Mercenary’s Destiny by Mina Carter
10
Zad looked like an angel when she slept.
Eric stood by the door in the small room, watching her. Delicate and beautiful, she was entirely too good for him. He knew that. Fuck’s sake, she was royalty and he was… some nerdy kid who got lucky when he was picked up for scholarships and internships.
He wasn’t under any illusions. His mind was the only thing he’d had going for him until his physical transformation, and he’d spent years honing it, expanding his cerebral functionality and knowledge until he had a passel of degrees under his belt and more clout in the scientific community than he could shake a stick at. Well, he had. Until his bosses had tried to have him killed and declared him dead in a terrorist attack.
But that clout, the fact that just his name on any research project guaranteed funding and a level of success, meant jack shit when it came to her. He wasn’t royalty, not anything close, and she was the daughter of a queen.
She was a princess and he was a pauper. On paper, or whatever passed for it all the way out here, they should never have worked. Hell, he probably wouldn’t even have been allowed in her presence had she still been aboard her mother’s ship. She’d probably have been promised to some prince when she was born or something. His lip curled back from his teeth in a silent snarl. No other man would touch her. She was his. All his.
She sighed in her sleep and turned over, a lock of her dark hair falling from her bare shoulder to the hollow of her throat. His greedy gaze caressed the lines of her collarbones and the soft swell of her breasts before the sheet covered her. He looked back at her collarbones, worry drawing his eyebrows together. She was too thin, the line of her collarbones pronounced, and he remembered feeling her ribs as he’d touched her last night. Guilt hit him that he hadn’t realized at the time.
Food, he decided, she needed food. He could do that. Despite the fact he’d lived on takeout and canteen food at whatever facility he’d been working at for years, he knew how to cook. It was one of the few useful things his mother had taught him before she’d married Max Russell and had servants to do everything for her.
To look at her now, you’d think she’d never known any differently, that she’d always had servants scurrying to obey her every whim and to see to every comfort, but he remembered a time before that, when she’d had to cook and clean like someone without a damn trust fund. He’d preferred those times—before Max had come into their lives and every little thing had become a competition, a way to prove themselves so their mom would pay attention to them instead of her constant rounds of social functions and spa visits.
He hadn’t had Eris’s athletic ability, so he’d gone down the academic route. Even then, he’d been a disappointment, preferring to focus on expanding the frontiers of science rather than become a plastic surgeon as his mother had wanted. He snorted silently to himself as he made sure Zad was still asleep and left for the galley. The only reason his mom had wanted him to become a surgeon was so she could get her surgery for free.
The walk to the galley was laughably short. On the same level as his quarters, it was only at the end of the corridor. He shook his head as he ducked through the bulkhead doorway. It was good their rooms had halfway decent soundproofing or there would be some very sleep-deprived people aboard given the number of couples on the crew.
The galley was already occupied. He pulled up short at the sight of Beauty at the food prep counter. Like him, the other man was in casual clothing, workout pants and an oversized tee replacing the combats and tactical rig he normally wore. For a moment his ego swelled as he realized he was bigger and more heavily muscled than the alien mercenary. Until he remembered that Beauty was an actual space dragon, complete with wings and the ability to breathe fire. The guy was scary and then some.
The Seratovian looked up and nodded to Eric. “Hey. You been kicked out for food as well?”
“Yeah. Well, no,” he said as he walked into the room, looking with interest at what Beauty was doing. He had a bowl in one hand, battering the hell out of the gloopy liquid within like it had personally offended him.
“Which is it?” Beauty asked, a small grin on his face. “Or are you still not thinking straight? To be honest I’m surprised to see you walking.”
“Huh? Why is that?” Eric asked distractedly as he leaned in. “Is that chocolate cake?”
Beauty stopped beating the mixture and dropped the bowl to the counter, tapping it twice to level the contents.
“It’s field cake,” he replied as he put it into the oven. “Contains all the right nutrients to keep a Latharian warrior active in the field for a day. Apparently it tastes just like chocolate cake.”
Huh. Women liked chocolate.
“Can you show me how to make it? Zad’s still asleep and I want to have breakfast ready before she wakes.”
Beauty leaned back, his arms folded across his chest as he looked at Eric. “I can, but she’s Krynassis so there’s no point.”
He tilted his head in curiosity. “Why would her species make a difference? Does she have different dietary requirements?”
Beauty nodded. “Red can’t eat chocolate either. Makes her sick. She still does it, though, stubborn female. But she’s only half Krynassis, so she can get away with it. Best make Zad something else.”
Eric grunted, opening the chiller unit and looking inside. “What should I make? Please tell me she doesn’t eat bugs or something.” He chuckled and suppressed a shudder at the idea. He hated bugs with a passion.
Beauty’s expression cooled, his eyes icy. “Bugs? Why would she… and why do you find that funny?”
“Errr… uhm.” Words failed Eric for a moment as he realized he’d wandered into dangerous territory. “Because she has scales and Krynassis look like… yeah,” he admitted. “That was a stupid thing to say.”
“It was. Do better. I suggest a steak sandwich. Krynassis are primarily carnivorous.”
He nodded, grabbing items from inside the chiller and setting about making a sandwich. “Hot or cold?”
Beauty watched the bowl rotate in the oven and shrugged. “Don’t think it makes a difference. Red eats both hot and cold food, so I assume Zad would as well.”
“Makes sense.”
He layered sliced meat onto the bread and debated with himself for a second over adding cheese. Worried about lactose intolerance, he skipped that and made a side salad, just in case she wanted it. If it wasn’t on the sandwich, she could always skip it if she couldn’t metabolize it.
Looking up at Beauty again, he asked. “What did you mean, you’re surprised I’m walking?”
“Zad’s a full-blooded Krynassis,” the other mercenary said, as though that explained everything. It didn’t, a fact that must have been obvious from his expression. Beauty grinned. “They have a high sex drive, like massively high. Usually they need a harem to deal with it.”
The oven pinged and the dragon straightened up to retrieve the bowl. The gloopy mixture had risen to the largest, fluffiest chocolate cake Eric had ever seen. Even his mouth watered at the smell, and he didn’t even like chocolate cake.
“A harem?” he echoed.
“So one male?” Beauty chuckled as he headed for the door. “I’m surprised your dick’s not red raw with all the action.”
The Warborne were all assembled on the bridge by the time Eric and Zad arrived. He smiled, ushering Zad ahead of him as they tucked themselves in by Skinny at the ops console. Like everywhere else on the Sprite, space on the bridge was at a minimum. He nodded to the heavy-worlder as Skinny moved over to make room for them. His tiny mate, Marika, stood in front of him, leaning back against his larger frame.
“Okay, now we’re all here finally,” T’Raal’s voice was dry as he sent a glance their way.
Zad stiffened. Automatically, Eric tightened his arm around her, pulling her closer against his side protectively. He knew without asking that she felt her position on the crew was tenuous. Not that she’d told him, but it had to be part of what was bothering her. How he knew that, he had no idea, he just did.
“Sorry. I overslept,” he replied, his expression level. “This body takes a lot more food and sleep than expected. I’m still catching up.”
“Makes sense.” T’Raal flicked a glance at Zad and nodded. He didn’t say anything else, but it was obvious what he was thinking, what they were all thinking, Eric realized as he caught the quickly suppressed smiles from the rest of the crew.
“Okay, let’s get to it. Fin, on screen.”
The holo table in the middle of the deck at the back of the bridge flared to life, showing a woman. She was lithe and delicate, a gown made of little more than straps wrapping around a flawless figure. Her hair was pulled up high on top of her head to cascade from a crown all the way down her back almost to her ankles. Her face was ethereally beautiful, skin smooth like a doll’s and dominated by large, liquid green eyes. Sparky gave out a wolf whistle.
“Who’s the hottie?”
“That is her most royal highness, the Star of Nerishnia, Princess Ameria al atna Kantara. Heir apparent to the throne of Kantar.” T’Raal looked across the table at Sparky. “It is an honor to look on her likeness and she most certainly should never be described as a ‘hottie.’”
Sparky grinned, totally unperturbed by the Latharian’s stern manner. “Yeah, but she totally is. Isn’t she?”
T’Raal’s lips quirked a little at the corner, the tiniest movement.
“Yes, she’s hot. She’s also heavily guarded by the Zhol, the Kantar elite forces, and the royal bodyguard of the Kantarran throne.”
“So?” Red leaned against the back of the command chair, her arms folded over her chest.
Eric didn’t miss that, once again, Fin had taken up position near to her, his looming frame and stance almost protective. Even though he couldn’t think of any woman who needed protection less than Red.
His gaze slid sideways to Zad. Okay, maybe he knew two women like that. With Eris, three… okay, every woman but the ones on the Warborne crew. They were obviously special cases.
“She is also a premier scientist and a lead researcher in the field of Vallhaushni.”
“What?” Nat asked, wrinkling her nose and wiggling her finger in her ear. “Sorry, my matrix didn’t like that one. What was that?”
Eric shook his head. “It’s not your translator matrix. There’s no direct translation for it. It means ‘the ones before.’ Basically they’re looking for a race of gods, a little like the Viking or Greek gods, or maybe the Tuath De Danann.”
The rest of the crew turned to look at him in surprise. He shrugged. “Took a class in ancient Earth traditions once. I was bored and had a gap in my schedule.”
“Excellent.” T’Raal gave a rare smile. “At least we have someone who speaks the same language as the princess.”
“Do you mean actual language?” Sparky asked. “Or uber-geek?”
“Why do we need someone to speak her language?” Zad wanted to know, a frown on her beautiful face. “If she has these royal bodyguards?”
T’Raal chuckled, his amusement echoed on the face of the other Warborne veterans. “Because they’re not us. Several credible death threats have been made against the princess recently, and given she’s about to speak at the inter-quadrant science summit at Tesnit-Four, the throne has decided she needs protection that is a little more… robust, shall we say?”
“I’m more than happy to run close protection.” Sparky leered, a grin on his stubbled face. “Like really close protection.”
“Which means you are definitely not getting anywhere near the princess,” T’Raal replied. “Besides, the princess’s personal bodyguards are all female, so you’d stick out like a sore thumb.”
He nodded to Fin and the image of the woman on screen expanded to a larger scene. She was surrounded by other women, all of them taller and toned, making her seem like a child in their midst. They were dressed in armor, almost. It was only armor if you squinted and looked at it sideways, leaving large swathes of their bodies and skin unprotected.
“What the fuck use is that crap?” Red laughed. “It barely even covers their asses.”
“Yeah, we know,” Fin replied with a grin, his eyes locked to the screen. Red growled and punched him in the arm.
“Nope, but you’ll be wearing adaptive skinsuits beneath to give you an extra layer of protection.”
Red blinked and looked at the big Lathar. Then her expression tightened. “No. Fuck no. Not happening.”
“What?” Eric asked.
“Red and Zad will be posing as the princess’s bodyguards.”
“What are you doing now?”
Zad watched Eric with fascination as he moved around the lab. It was a small space and he was a big male, but he moved with a grace and elegance that surprised her. Especially when he did so while reading—not just from the notebook in his hand, with actual, handwritten notes, but also from a data pad and at least two different screens. Through it all, he didn’t stumble or bump into anything once.
“How do you do that?” she asked.
“Hmmm? Do what?”
He looked up at her, blinking a little owlishly through the glasses perched on his nose. There was no glass in them now, not like when she’d first arrived, so she assumed he didn’t need them for visual correction. Why he wore them, she didn’t know, but the effect was kind of sexy.
She gestured around the room. “You don’t bump into anything. Like, at all, even when you’re not looking. Do humans have some kind of extra sense I don’t know about? Nat was good with spaces as well.”
He frowned, shaking his head. “No extra sense, no. But a lot of us have good spatial awareness. For Nat I would say it was more making sure she wasn’t crept up on and caught unawares. For me? It’s more that being a wrecking ball in a lab gets expensive fast. I quickly learned to be careful so breakages weren’t taken out of my wages.”
“Huh. That makes sense.”
Financial considerations altered a lot of species’ natural behavior. As did violence. Take the Karthician for example. Mostly they were considered peace-loving and amiable, but she’d seen a few in the arena over the years, and when pushed, they were dangerous and unpredictable.
She’d say humans as well. Most of the humans she’d seen were as dangerous as vaark. In fact, when Nat had told her that her sister was a noncombatant on board, Zad had actually laughed at her, thinking it was a joke. But no, Marika and Jess, another of the human females aboard, were small and delicate. Neither had a violent bone in their bodies.
It was… strange to be around such females, especially when they chattered and included her in the conversation. Red just shrugged, her expression plainly saying, “Humor them.” But she had to admit, their company was nice—untaxing and relaxing. They accepted her for who she was and didn’t ask uncomfortable questions.
“So what are you doing?” she asked as she slid off the counter to approach him. They didn’t have long before they arrived, and they really should be starting to kit up, but he’d said he wanted to check something while they ate. Well, she’d eaten. His sandwich was still on the counter behind them, barely touched.
“I’m looking at the activation coding for your armor. See here?” He moved to one of the screens and altered the image, spinning it around to show her a portion of the helix. A flick of his hand and he went deeper, the helix disappeared, and the screen filled with letters and numbers. A small section highlighted and then blinked at them. “This part doesn’t make sense. I can see the expression to make it activate, but there seems to be a second part to make it remain active. It’s missing.”
He frowned, running a hand through his hair and making it stand up in messy spikes. “I know I’ve seen something similar, but I can’t remember where.”
She gaped at him in surprise. “You can tell all that from all those letters and numbers?” It just looked like gobbledygook to her.
“Hmmm.” He nodded, his lips compressing into a thin line. “DNA or something like it, is the same the universe over—simply a code that tells cells and other things how to act and interact with each other. The Lathar have made huge strides in the field, but I can’t make too much sense of the Krynassis studies. There’s something here about the armor, but I can’t work out the context and meaning. Perhaps you could take a look and tell me what it says?”
She froze as he shoved a data pad in front of her. The symbols on the page were just like any other. Meaningless to her.
“We don’t have time for that right now,” she diverted, pressing up against him suddenly. Her lips grazed his neck as she slid her hand down the front of his pants. His breathing caught, the scent of his arousal billowing on the air. “We need to get ready for the mission. And I can’t wait to see you dressed up in your combat gear again. It makes me so hot.”
He growled, grabbing her and lifting her up onto the counter. Shoving her legs apart with his hips, he settled between them, bending his head to claim her lips in a hard, almost biting kiss. She hid her smile as she kissed him back. Disaster averted, for now.
“I’ve never done it in a lab,” he broke the kiss to admit in a low, raspy voice.
“Well… we don’t have long…” She trailed her fingers down the center of his broad chest and rocked her hips against his. He was hard already, practically bursting through the fly of his pants.
He growled again, lifting her with one arm around the back of her waist to yank her soft workout pants down. They hit the floor as her ass hit the cold metal of the counter, making her shiver.
“Don’t worry. I don’t need long,” he murmured, sliding clever fingers through her pussy lips to find her clit. She gasped. She was already slick and wet for him.
“We only have ten minutes,” she argued, a soft moan escaping her as he thrust two fingers deep, curling them back to catch her g-spot as he pressed his thumb against her clit.
“I only need seven.” He nipped her ear, making her clench around him.
She barked a laugh. “You do know that being a quick finish isn’t anything to boast about. Right?”
Her hands clutched at his broad shoulders as he began to stroke her. Scales, what this male could do with his fingers and tongue should be illegal.
“Who said anything about me finishing right now?” He grinned, his expression wicked as he leaned in, his words whispered against her lips. “You’re going to come for me, right here, over my hand. My fingers. But later on, you’re going to come screaming as you ride my cock. And I want you thinking about that, what I’m going to do to you later, for the rest of the day. Do you think you can do that?”
She whimpered, nodding as she surrendered to him and the pleasure he was building in her. Yes, she could do that. Scales it would be hard to do anything but think of what he was going to do to her later.
She was so screwed.
