Alien Mercenary’s Destiny by Mina Carter
3
It any society, shit and the unfortunate sank to the bottom and there were always places like the Tarviisan pits. Human history was littered with them, and, it seemed, it was the same over the galaxy.
So Sparky felt right at home as he walked through the front gates of the pits and down the corridors. He was aware of the looks he got from the aliens he passed as they tried to work out whether he was predator or prey. He could understand it.
As a human—compared to some of these assholes, particularly the seven-foot guy who looked like he was hewn out of a cliff face—he looked small and soft, unthreatening. So he winked at them, just to confuse them, as he passed. If they thought he was a mark, they had another think coming. He hadn’t survived Ruas and countless other shitholes to go down easily.
“You know, one day one of them is going to try their luck,” a voice chuckled.
Sparky grinned as he looked up to see Rishnakt leaning up against a wall just ahead of him. The horned alien was one of the new owners of the pits, and a big bastard Sparky wouldn’t want to tangle with on any day of the week—perhaps twice on Sundays.
“They’d get the fucking shock of their lives then. Wouldn’t they?”
Rish cocked an eyebrow. “Why? What would you do?”
“I do a fucking cracking can-can routine,” he replied with a wink.
“I have no idea what that is,” the big alien replied mildly.
“Dance routine. Frilly dresses and everything. I’d say I’d do the makeup, but honestly, Scott does that way better than I do.”
“Uh-huh,” Rish nodded and then pushed off the wall. “You here to see the kid?”
“Yeah.” He fell into step with the horned guy. “Figured he could do with a friend. You know?”
“You’re a good male.” Rish nodded in approval.
“Fuck’s sake, mate, don’t say that too loudly. I’m a complete tosser. Everyone knows that.”
“This is fucking embarrassing,” Eric grumbled, one arm slung over Zero’s shoulder as the big cyborg helped him the few steps back from the toilet.
“Suck it up, buttercup. You wanna play with the big boys, you’re gonna get a few boo-boos.” Zero grinned as he deposited Eric back on the bed shoved in the corner of the Sprite’s tiny medbay.
His condition had improved so much that Tal, the Warborne’s medic, had allowed him out of the auto-unit, the precious piece of medical equipment stowed against the other wall. Tal’s definition of improvement and Eric’s appeared to be very different. As far as Eric could tell, as long as he wasn’t dead or about to die and breathing on his own, the medic considered him “improved.” Never mind that he could only take a few steps on his own and he was still pissing blood.
“I was practically disemboweled!” He winced as he passed a hand over the dressings on his tender stomach. He’d been healed most of the way, but he still had wounds. Tal had said it was better for the body to heal up at least some of the damage on its own rather than get confused. As if that wasn’t the biggest crock of shit he’d ever heard. Cells did not get “confused,” but Tal was the doctor here. The medical doctor anyway.
Eric gritted his teeth and leaned back against the edge of the bed rather than look weak in front of Zero. Not only was the cyborg built for combat in a way Eric could never match, but he was also his sister’s husband—a member of the family. That was the only reason Eric had allowed him to help when he needed to use the facilities.
“Yeah, and I’ve lost limbs before. Beauty’s had his throat cut and Red busted her spine once. You’re not special.”
Eric gaped. “That’s not the same at all! Most of your limbs are metal, Beauty’s a fucking space dragon and Red’s some kind of lizard-woman. She could probably regrow her own tail or something.”
“She’s part Krynassis,” a voice said from the doorway. “We don’t have tails. But we do have limited regenerative capacity. Not enough to regrow a limb, though, usually just enough to replace lost scales.”
Eric turned suddenly, wincing as his stomach pulled, to see the angel from his dreams standing in the doorway. His sister was behind her, but he barely paid Eris any attention. Everything, his whole being right down to the cellular level, was focused on the woman.
She was beautiful. He’d only gotten glimpses of her in the corridors between the darkness and the scaled aliens—did she call them Krynassis?—that had been trying to rip his guts out, but she was utterly beautiful. Like supermodel, statuesque, goddess-level beautiful. Tall and slender, she had curves in all the right places with long dark hair that cascaded over her shoulders. Dark eyes were locked onto him and he swallowed, hard, hoping like hell she didn’t look below his belt.
“Hi.”
As soon as the word was past his lips, he wanted the deck plating to open up and swallow him whole. Hi? What a fucking inane thing to say… his embarrassment was not made any better by the side look Zero gave him. Eric didn’t agree with a lot of what the alien cyborg said, and there was a certain amount of friction because the guy was involved with his sister. In that moment, though, they were brothers in arms and the look Zero shot him clearly expressed his disappointment. There was even the hint of cyborg eye-roll. Could cyborgs eye-roll, or did their implants prevent it?
“Hello, Eric.”
Oh god, even her voice was beautiful… the sultry rasp went right to his cock. Wincing, he leaned forward, hand over his stomach as though his wounds were playing up. His shirt fell forward to cover his reaction.
Instantly her expression creased in concern and she stepped forward. “Eric? Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.” He waved off her concern with a smile. Well, what he hoped wasn’t too strained a smile, cutting a glare at Zero as he ushered Eris out of the room.
“We’ll leave you pair to it,” the cyborg called out cheerily. “Eris and I have some… reports to attend to.”
“We do?” She looked up at her husband, caught off guard, her expression so surprised that even Eric, not known for his ability to pick up on social cues, felt like groaning.
“Yup,” Zero reached out to trigger the door release as he went through it, winking at Eric. “You know… in our quarters.”
“Oh, those reports—” Eris’s voice was cut off as the door shut, leaving the two of them alone in the room.
He risked a look at the woman in front of him. She smiled, wariness shadowing her eyes. They were a warm honey-brown and he found himself instantly captivated.
“I-I…” His brain refused to make any more words as she took another step forward, only realizing he was canted forward, hand over his stomach when she touched his shoulder.
“Eric?”
He straightened up instantly, relieved to realize he was at least taller than she was. It was a tiny sop to his male ego, given she’d seen him getting his ass handed to him on a plate. And she was a fighter herself, which meant she could probably whip his ass as well. There was no way a woman like her would want an egg-head like him.
Weak… the little voice in the back of his head informed him with a sneer. Couldn’t even rescue her properly. Had to go and get yourself hurt.
“I don’t even know your name,” he blurted out.
Instantly he was fascinated, taking a step forward. Her skin looked so soft, the scales themselves appearing to be under the skin somehow. He tilted his head, lifting a hand. At the last moment he paused, looking at her. “May I?”
Zad nodded, holding her breath. She needed him to touch her, the ache like nothing she’d ever felt before. Her breathing shortened, and she looked up at him as he brushed gentle fingertips against the skin of her cheek.
“Zad,” she said, her voice gruff.
His attention shifted from her cheek and he speared her with a piercing gaze. His eyes were a clear, startling blue.
“Your name or your species?”
His bluntness made her blink for a second. “It’s my name. Why would I introduce myself with my species?”
The smallest hint of a smile crossed his face, bringing her attention to the curve of his lips. He had the most kissable lips of any male she’d ever met. She ached to reach up and touch them, to trace the bottom curve with her fingertips. Shards, any queen would want to add him to her harem. And he’d called armor from her.
“I do apologize. That would be ridiculous. Wouldn’t it? It would cut down on a lot of misunderstandings, though… ‘Hey, I’m Homo sapiens, and you are?’”
She frowned. “What is Homo sapiens?”
“Ah…” he froze and then smiled. “It’s Latin for human being. Literally means ‘wise man.’ We’re from the genus homo and the sapiens part… and I’m waffling. You don’t need to know this.” He cut himself off quickly and offered her a smile. “And you? What species are you?”
Yeah… he was intelligent. Scary intelligent. It shone in his gaze as he studied her… once he knew she’d had no education to speak of, couldn’t even—she cut the thought off right there. No… no way would he be interested in her.
“Krynassis.”
Recognition flittered over his handsome features. “Like Red?”
Zad nodded. She had met the other female briefly during the pit attack and rescue. “Yes and no. She is a half-breed. I am full-blooded.”
“Fascinating. She doesn’t have these.” He stroked her skin again. “It’s so soft, yet I can see the scales beneath. Do they extend everywhere?”
She arched an eyebrow. “That has to be the worst come-on I’ve ever heard.”
He froze, and she saw the moment the scientist warred with the male. “It was more scientific interest, but would it be wrong of me to admit… no, don’t answer that. Zad,” he said with a smile. “It’s a lovely name.”
Pleasure filled her at the sound of her name on his lips. What would it be like to hear him moan it instead?
“Thank you. It’s the one thing I have of my father’s. The full version is Zadaenae. My father was Zadek.”
“Uh-huh. Is that a naming convention for your species?” he asked.
He’d dropped his hand but hadn’t moved away. He was so warm, his body heat calling to her even through their clothes. Humans must run a lot hotter than Krynassis did.
“Huh?” She blinked, realizing she’d missed his question. “I’m sorry, what?”
His lips quirked with amusement. She kicked herself. He’d obviously caught her slip.
“I asked if it was common for Krynassis children to be given derivatives of their parents’ names? What was your mother called?”
She barked a laugh. “Shards no. Most Krynassis offspring are male and are lucky to get anything other than a clutch code. Females are rarer and normally take their mother’s name after her death.”
“Oh… I’m so sorry.” He blinked and then frowned. “If you have your father’s name, does that mean your mother is still alive?”
She nodded. “She is.”
“Do you know where she is? We could take you home.”
Zad froze, her smile just this side of brittle. “I know where she is, yes. But going home is out of the question. I do not have a home.”
“Oh.” She could see all the questions crowding behind his eyes and prepared herself for an onslaught. Instead he just smiled, rubbing a hand against his broad chest. The movement shifted the fabric against his skin, releasing a rush of scent, and she almost groaned at the deep richness of it. He’d been aroused, a trace of it still lingering on his skin, and all she wanted to do was wrap herself around him, bask in the heat of his skin, and bury her nose into the side of his neck where it met his throat.
Mine, all her instincts growled at once, her armor flaring across her skin.
“Fascinating,” he breathed, tracking the movement. “What was that? Can you do it again?”
Instantly he was back to the scientist, his attention on her skin rather than her as a woman.
“Uh… sure.” Each time she did it, it was easier and she raised and lowered her armor as he watched. Rapt.
“It’s beautiful,” he murmured, leaning in a little to look closer. “Like diamonds under the skin.”
“You can touch if you like,” she offered as she raised it again, even though she’d never made that offer to anyone else. But then, she’d never wanted anyone else to touch her. Not ever. Not that she was a virgin, far from it. She had needs, just like any woman. But she’d never met a male who drew her in like him.
His gaze flicked to her eyes for a moment and then back to her skin. She saw the controlled need there and nodded. Biting his lower lip, he reached out and touched her. His eyes widened.
“It’s hard!”
She couldn’t help it. A chuckle escaped. “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?”
He blinked, his expression blank for a second. She caught the precise moment his male brain kicked in as color flooded his cheeks. He cleared his throat and stepped back, putting distance between them she didn’t want.
“Uhm, yeah.” He cleared his throat again and focused on her skin. “It’s natural armoring then? But you didn’t have it in the pits, or those… your attackers were the same species as you. Weren’t they?” he asked suddenly.
She nodded, dropping her armor. “They were, yes. And I had my armor, but I couldn’t keep it raised for long. They knew that, and it gave them the window of opportunity.”
“Huh.” He leaned back, his hips resting against the edge of the bed behind him. He was dressed in typical patient scrubs, which were loose on him because he was smaller than even the smallest Lathar. “Why couldn’t you keep it raised?”
She looked away at the blunt question, not bothering to tell him how rude it was to ask. He wasn’t stupid, and he’d already spent time aboard the mercenary ship with a species not his own. So he had to have realized that some questions were insensitive. Obviously, the scientist part of him just didn’t care.
“Malnutrition,” she lied, not wanting to tell him the real reason she could keep her armor raised now. “Exhaustion. Fighters in the pits don’t get much in the way of luxuries or relaxation.”
His expression tightened, a flare of fury washing over his features that she found fascinating. “You won’t have to go back there, ever,” he announced in a hard voice.
She shrugged. “It’s what I’m good at, and I got nowhere else to go. I was thinking about hanging around and seeing if I could make some money fightin—”
“Not a fucking chance,” he snarled, the deep sound vicious and unexpected. He pushed off and took a step toward her until he loomed over her. “You are not going back to that fucking place, not while I have breath left in my body.”
She froze, her eyes locked onto his as every traitorous instinct in her body urged her to drop her gaze and tilt her head to expose her neck in submission. Confusion and anger rolled through her. She was born to be a queen, for shard’s sake. She bowed to no one.
Except a consort, the little voice in the back of her head whispered. No one’s seen one for generations though… why?
The battle with her instincts felt like it raged for an eternity but could only have been a couple of seconds before she gave in and lowered her gaze, tilting her head. His breath fanned over the side of her neck and she shivered.
He made a sound of approval in the back of his throat. “We’ll find something else for you. There must be something you can do on board.”
She blinked as she looked up at him. “What? You mean I could join the Warborne?”
