The Claiming

by Imogen Keeper

  Boots ran down the dock. People were shouting. Where the fuck was Tessa? Quinton should be right about here, by now, but he wasn’t.

  Sanger spun in a circle.

  Tor and the others were moving on the dock.

  There was a splash a few feet to his left. Quinton, swimming downstream now.

  Sanger lunged through the water, grabbed him by the foot, caught his boot, got a grip on his shoulder, muscled him under the water.

  Most people would thrash around at that. Fight back. Their instinct to survive making them panic in the need for air.

  Not Quinton. He turned his body into a stone, started tugging Sanger deeper, dragging Tessa with them.

  Shit.

  Tessa clawed at his face, fought her way to the surface, got a single gulp of air before Quinton let go of Sanger and got to her and hauled her under.

  Her lips were still parted when she went under, the water filling her mouth.

  Sanger punched Quinton’s face, but the motion was slowed. The punch lacked any real might.

  No one on the docks could shoot. It was too dark. They were too far down. They wouldn’t be able to tell who was who.

  He needed air. Tessa needed fucking air again, her limbs flashing frantically through the water.

  Quinton must have needed air too because he let go of Sanger, and they both thrashed their way to the surface, where they sucked in air.

  Sanger grabbed him by the throat, shoved his head under, tried to manipulate the angle so he was above Quinton, holding him down. But Quinton managed to flip them, turning to a stone again, dragging him deeper, getting his arm around Sanger’s neck.

  They thrashed underwater. Wrestling, tearing and yanking at limbs.

  Bubbles and splashes, curses and sputtering.

  Tessa was there, still fighting. She must have gotten air somehow. She grabbed Quinton by the throat, with the crook of her elbow. They all breached the surface, gasping for breath, Tessa clinging to Quinton’s back. He tried to buck her off, but she held.

  Now, in this moment, this was when Sanger let the mask slip. He let the robot go and unleashed the beast within.

  Raw, strangled, animal noises built from his throat, echoed through the cavern, as he got a grip on Quinton’s face, dug his thumbs into his eyes.

  Gouged deep, pushing past the natural pressure of his eyeballs.

  Quinton howled, a horrible sound as his eyeballs burst with a spray of blood.

  “Get off him, Tessa!”

  Shockingly, she listened. Releasing his neck and swimming away, getting behind Sanger.

  He spun Quinton’s body around, so it was between him and the dock.

  Quinton bucked in the water, unable to see, unable to think probably from the pain of his burst eyes. Blood streamed from the darkened sockets, mingling with the water, to rain down his cheeks like pink tears. Waves, reflecting that eerie green light rippled around them, flashing and sloshing against the dock.

  “Now,” Sanger roared, already lamenting that it wasn’t his hand on the fucking gun.

  A second later, a whole army of shots blared out. His ears would never stop ringing. And it didn’t matter.

  The was nothing left of Quinton, but a bloody hole-riddled body floating down the river.

  It was over.

  And this time, he got to do the one thing he didn’t get to do before. He got to be there for his woman. Tessa was safe.

  She swam to him. Her smile somehow luminous and perfect despite the bruises and the swelling and the slit of an eye.

  Her thin wet arms slid around his shoulders.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “Shut the fuck up,” she said back instantly, her arms and legs wrapping around him like a vice.

  And for some reason that made him laugh. He dragged her to the bank, where some of his guys helped haul their sodden bodies out of the water.

  A few warriors were in the boat, retrieving the carcass. Sanger pulled Tessa’s hand into his and started toward the stairs.

  “Tor, Freysa, Shane,” he said over his shoulder. “You’re in charge in my absence.”

  “Where are you going?” Tor barked after him.

  “Anywhere else.”

  “I don’t want to be in this shit hole,” Tor belted out. “I want to go home to Klym.”

  Tessa’s hand was wrapped in his. Safe. Warm. Alive. Vaniiya, she was alive.

  “Then leave. Freysa and Shane, you’re in charge of my army.”

  “For how long?” Shane barked.

  Sanger didn’t answer. Maybe forever. He’d never thought past this day. Never imagined it. He’d been hunting Manivietto for so long, he’d never even considered this moment. All he wanted was her. And maybe some sunshine that wasn’t hot and didn’t smell like river shit.

  “Where are we going?” Tessa asked.

  Light spilled through the doorway, blinding and carrying the scent of wind and sunshine.

  “Anywhere you want.”

  They stepped out of the dark cave, flinching as the sun hit their faces. He touched her cheek, the bruises and the blood.

  She looked past him, up at the mountains. “Is there anywhere on this planet that isn’t hot?”

  He nodded.

  “Let’s go there.”

  He opened a door to a hover, held it. She hopped in.

  As he settled behind the controls, he glanced at her. “I love you. You know that right?”

  A wry smile twisted its way across her face. “Yeah.”

  “Don’t ever lie to me again.”

  “I’ll lie when I need to, Prime.” She leaned back in the seat, like she was settling in for a long ride.

  “You won’t need to.” He swallowed, trying to find the right words. “Just hum.”

  “I hum. You listen.”

  He reached over, touched her chin. “I’ll listen. I won’t stop again.”

  46

  a blood-thirsty robotic asshole

  “WHAT HAPPENS NOW?” Tessa asked, five days later.

  They were standing on a mountain top, in a country as far away from Didgermmion as you could get without leaving Vesta.

  The wind whipped through her sweater, tugged at her hair. It carried the breath of ice, having just swept across the canary-yellow shards of frozen ice on Vesta’s northern pole.

  It was summer here, so only partially frozen.

  In some places, the water was darker, nearly orange where it had melted. Yellow lizard-like creatures bathed in the sun and splashed in the water.

  There was so much she didn’t know about this planet. Felanas weren’t educated. She’d barely been taught how to read. That hadn’t really bothered her back in Didgermmion when all she did was steal food, run to stay in hiding, bicker with Leyla and hunt the Boss.

  Now, it did.

  “Anything you want?”

  Tessa lifted her shoulders. “For a long time all I wanted was to kill you.”

  He laughed. “And now?”

  “I don’t really want anything but you. But I guess I need to start thinking about that. I can’t spend my whole life fucking you.”

  His grin faded. “Guess not.”

  “Do you have anything you want to do?”

  “Other than be with you?”

  “Other than that.”

  He frowned. “Not really.” His arm settled over her shoulders, pulled her against him. “Though…I miss my bathhouse.”

  “Me too.” The people up here didn’t bathe. They sweated. It was not the same experience, sitting in a hot humid room with a bunch of other people and scrubbing sand on each other. She always left feeling a little dirtier than when she went in. Though, they’d had a good time when they’d had their own sweat chamber. “Plus, you smell.”

  He frowned and smelled his armpit, making her laugh.

  “You’re such a robot. I was kidding. Let’s go.”

  He pushed none-to-gently toward the hover, where she climbed in.

  He didn’t go around it tho
ugh. Just stood there staring up at her. “I don’t want to be in Didgermmion.”

  She thought about it. Nodded. “I hate that place.”

  “You need to talk to Leyla though. She’s worried.”

  Tessa leaned back against the seat. “I know.” She’d been putting it off. Alone with Sanger, she felt like a person she was proud to be. It wasn’t Leyla’s fault, but a huge part of Tessa was terrified that she’d see her sister again, and start to feel like the rude, overly-loud, uncouth family loser again. She missed her sister, but she didn’t miss feeling like that again.

  “I will.”

  His neck tightened and he stepped forward, so she couldn’t avoid his eyes. The hover was big enough, her chair up high enough, that his face was about even with her feet. He was probably trying to decide what to say.

  She blew out a breath. Neither of them was used to this. Emotional honesty and sharing. But they were working on it. Her hands formed fists. “What if she blames me?”

  He ran his hand along the back of his neck, but she got the impression it was just to keep from reaching for her. “She doesn’t. She blames herself.”

  “For what?”

  “For yelling at you. Tessa, when we thought you were dead, she was crying the whole time, digging in the dirt until her hands bled.”

  His hands had bled too. The cuts only now healing. Like her face.

  She looked back out at the shining canary ice shards. “They don’t like who I am.”

  “Who are you?” his gravelly voice raced along her spine.

  “I’m yours.” She glanced back in time to see his face split in a white-toothed grin.

  “Fucking right.” He slammed the door and walked around to the other side while she buckled up. “And I’m yours.”

  When he hopped in, she pushed out a long breath. “What do you really want now, Sanger?”

  He did his own buckles, that look crossing his face like he was facing off against ghosts of his own. “I think…I think maybe we both need to let go of the past. I don’t want to live there anymore.”

  “Me neither.”

  “I want to be here with you.”

  “Me too.”

  “And…I think I want to be near my brother.” He smiled, his face going unguarded for a moment. She could imagine who he’d been before Manivietto and his father sank their vicious claws into his life and nearly destroyed it. “Get to know him and his wife. You’ll like her. Everyone does.”

  She jabbed him in the ribs, making him laugh. “Should I be jealous?”

  “No.” All amusement left his face. “I live for you.”

  It almost hurt to hear. It was hard to believe, hard to force her brain to adapt. Her whole life, no one had wanted her, loved her, cared for her like that. And now, he was everything. He was offering everything.

  He flipped a few switches. The hover hummed to life and a second later, they lifted into the sky, spinning a lazy half circle, so the yellow sea was behind them.

  “You know what I want to do?” He asked suddenly. “I want to fuck my felana through every heat, bathe with her in a bathhouse so my armpits don’t offend her, make sure she eats.”

  “Sounds like subjugation.”

  “Protection.”

  “Trapped, Sanger.”

  “You only say my name when you’re lying.” His face spread in a grin. “Or when you’re coming.” He pitched his voice high, like he always did when he was mocking her. “Sanger. Sanger. Sanger.”

  “Great, and my jailer thinks he’s funny.”

  His massive hand came out and snagged hers. “Adored.”

  She sucked in a breath, trying to remember this moment, this perfect moment of acceptance, of belonging to each other. Sanger wasn’t perfect. He was a bloodthirsty robotic asshole. And she wasn’t perfect. She was a loudmouthed, thoughtless bloodthirsty bitch. They were perfect for each other.

  “Adored sounds okay.”

  His thumb stroked over hers. “You want kids?”

  She put a hand over her flat belly, tried to imagine a baby growing there. “I don’t know. I never thought about it. I guess I never really thought I’d make it that long.”

  She studied his profile. Hard jaw. Dark eyes. He hadn’t shaved the whole time they’d been up there, and the lower half of his face was covered in thick bristle.

  “What if they’re like me?”

  “Like you?”

  “Rude.”

  “I like you best when you’re rude.”

  “Do you want kids again? Do you want to do that again?”

  He turned toward her. She’d braced herself for grief, guilt, longing or regret, grief or pain. None was there. On his face she saw only hope. “If you do.”

  She bit her lip. “Do I have to decide right this minute.”

  A laugh bubbled out of him. “No. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

  He turned back to the endless sky ahead of them, not a cloud in sight, just an empty blue that stretched on forever all around them.

  “That sounds amazing.” She crossed her legs in front of her, getting comfortable. Her whole life, all she’d ever wanted was to keep her sister safe, avoid Primes, and be free.

  Well, Leyla was free, living at home without a Prime overlord in sight.

  Right beside her was the biggest Prime she’d ever seen.

  And she’d never been so free in her life.

  “We’ll be free together,” she whispered, too soft for him to hear.

  But maybe he heard anyway, because a massive hand swiped out and grabbed hers, held it tight, and promised one final thing she’d always wanted but never even dared to voice aloud.

  You’re not alone.

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  THE BONDING

  “SHE’S DYING,” Tam announced flatly to the control room a few minutes later.

  He hated leaving her, even for a few moments so he could contact base again. He spoke to the hologram of one of Base Fleet Sierra-Six’s healers, Ajax.

  “Look at her stats,” Tam said evenly, glancing up at the HolCom of the healer. His ship’s computer had linked to the base’s mainframe and sent her medical stats for the healers to review. “Tell me what to do.”

  The connection was as shitty as ever. The three-dimensional HolCom of Ajax’s blond head appeared and disappeared, fading and crackling.

  In order to send transmissions across lightyears of space, they had to be relayed through a series of tiny portals, anchored at even intervals. The resulting delays meant fading images and choppy sound. Better than nothing.

  Ajax’s HolCom eyebrows furrowed as he reviewed the woman’s health status. He met Tam’s eyes but his voice stayed even and calm. “It’s a common form of hypothermia that results from long cryo freezes. It’s called the blue-tinge.”

  “Whatever it’s called, it gets worse every godsdamned second.”

  “Quite the find, Tam.”

  “Shut up and tell me how to fix her.”

  Off-screen, chatter surrounded Ajax, who stood in WarCom, a massive, dark conference room on Sierra-Six where the higher-ups made important decisions.

  Ajax tapped away at his own glass digi-screen tablet, probably searching for past patients with similar afflictions. “How far up her arms and legs does it go? From her mouth?”

  Tam frowned. “Last time I checked maybe mid-thigh, upper arm, and to her collarbone.”

  Ajax looked up from his screen, eyes narrowed. Tam hadn’t felt fear in a long time and he was embarrassed to admit its fingers stroked along the back of his neck as he studied his friend’s face.

  “Her fingernails?”

  Something in the lines around Ajax’s mouth warned Tam his answer wasn’t going to be a good one. “Dark purple.”

  Ajax cocked his head to t
he side, and the hologram wobbled. An almost amused curve lurked at the corner of his mouth. Tam held his breath, knowing and fearing at the same time what that half-smile meant.

  “It’s time you started considering using your serum.”

  Tam rolled his shoulders, flexing his palms, glad that his dick, stiffer than any of his swords, was below the viewer of the HolCom feed.

  “Her body scans show her organs are similar to ours. We’ve never encountered a race as similar with whom the Bonding didn’t work.”

  Tam stayed stubbornly silent.

  “You can save her by Bonding with her.”

  “We don’t even speak the same language.”

  Ajax tilted his head slightly, regarding Tam with pale, laughing eyes. “I’m sure you can find a way to communicate. It’s a formal request. From Healing to you. You can say no.”

  That was a lie. There wasn’t a warrior on board Sierra-Six, hell on any base or colony of Argentus, who wouldn’t blame him if she died. Tribe warriors didn’t let females die. Not if they could stop it. Not ever. End of story. And beyond that, he’d never forgive himself.

  Ajax continued, “Forming a permanent union is drastic. But I’d say the situation is drastic.”

  Tam looked past the holograph, out into space. He saw the ghost of his own reflection there, only half-formed, but already somehow determined. When she’d opened her eyes, a green so intense it was unlike anything he’d ever seen, and she’d looked at him for the first time, he’d seen fear bloom in the depths of that green. Part of him had died. She’d been so sick, too weak to do more than shiver.

  And in her fear, she’d somehow managed to ask him for help, to trust him to save her.

  He didn’t know her name or age or even if she liked music or sunshine or swimming in the sea. If he used his serum to save her, she’d be stuck with him forever. How would she feel about that? He couldn’t explain the repercussions to her. It felt like a theft of her whole life. And the the method he had to use to save her?

  He shook his head.

  He wanted nothing more than to claim the female as his mate. But like this?

  How do you explain to someone that you need to fuck them or they’d die?