Rekker: Warlord Brides (Warriors of Vaznik Book 1)

by Ava York

  “She’s a great addition to the crew, Captain. Saying I’m surprised is not technically the right way to phrase it, but I’m impressed with how well she’s amalgamated to us. I never would have thought a human woman would be an asset to our team.”

  Rightfully so. The Vaznik Warriors preferred to operate as a cohesive unit, without outside influence or additions. We worked and lived together and were more like family than colleagues. I’d never imagined a human female would integrate into our ranks nearly effortlessly.

  Maybe it had something to do with her mate being one of us, but we’d need further evidence to confirm that. I couldn’t see us getting another human-Vaznik mated pair onboard anytime soon.

  “Thank you for saying that, Kyre. I admit that I was troubled over how all of you would feel about Lila’s presence here,” he said.

  “It was touch and go at first, but she’s part of us now. I think I can speak for us all when I say we’d protect her with our life, as we would any other,” I said.

  He cleared his throat before speaking again, as if some kind of emotion had gotten trapped there.

  “How’re things with comms? I saw you running around the ship this morning collecting various items—have any of them proved satisfactory? Will we be back in business by the end of today?” he asked.

  “I can’t say for sure, Captain. At this point, I’ve tried everything I can possibly think of to get us up and running and nothing has worked. I think we’re just too far out of range. I’m trying to reason out a way to extend what we currently have but . . . so far it’s not looking good,” I said.

  Rekker sighed long and deep, leaning back in his chair. “I’ll have to talk to the rest of the team, but if we can’t find a way to contact base we won’t be staying here much longer. Maybe we should try to ascend through the atmosphere just a little to see if that brings us back up?”

  “Let’s make that a last resort. I’m sure there’s a way to make this work, I just have to . . . .” my voice trailed off as my mind wandered back to the puzzle.

  “Is there anything I can do for you? You didn’t raid my personal stores,” Rekker said with a laugh.

  “And I wouldn’t, Captain, not without your permission. I often find that focusing on something other than the task at hand helps me come up with ideas. If you’re willing, maybe you could tell me more about Lila? Are you happy with your arrangement now? I know it wasn’t so when she’d first arrived.”

  Thankfully, he obliged me.

  “We’re very happy, Kyre. The relationship was not expected, but I’m glad for it now. Part of why I want to get this mission over with so quickly is so I can return to the outpost and find her a ring—it’s a human custom to give one to the woman you wish to marry. A diamond, apparently, which will likely be hard to find out here but I’ll try nonetheless.”

  “A diamond,” I said, the word taking root in my mind.

  “Yes, a clear, white stone. They’re rare on Earth and highly coveted by human females. My research tells me they can fetch quite the price. Even small ones are worth thousands of Earth dollars.”

  “A diamond,” I repeated, barely hearing Rekker’s explanation. “That’s it! If I attached some sort of gem—or—crystal to a metal arm on top of our satellite, I’m sure it would extend the range!”

  “But where are you going to find something like that all the way out here on Gravum IV?” Rekker asked.

  “Permission to explore the surrounding territory, Captain?” I asked, unable to keep the hope from my voice.

  “Permission granted, Kyre. Let’s get this mission done and get the hell off this rock.”

  Ferne

  The next time I opened my eyes I discovered—bewilderingly—that I was in the process of being airlifted from the side of the mountain pass. My body was wrapped tight and secured onto a long stretcher, the hard planes of it pressing roughly into my aching back. Not only was I bandaged from head to toe, but I was also quite obviously strapped down to keep my body still, but the cords felt too tight across my chest and made it difficult to breathe.

  I couldn’t move, but as I returned to consciousness, I recalled what happened. I’d gone back down the ledge to help Julie through a particularly difficult section of the climb and slipped. Knowing I’d take her down with me I’d ordered her to let me fall and she had. I held no ill will towards her for doing as I’d instructed and I hoped I was the only one who’d suffered this fate.

  I couldn’t help but wonder exactly how far I’d fallen. A sick part of me thrilled to discover the distance. Once a daredevil, always a daredevil.

  As my mind woke and started processing what had happened, the pain came flooding in alongside the memories. My arm throbbed so excruciatingly it had to be broken, at least in multiple places. Fleetingly, I’d hoped it would be able to be repaired and wasn’t so badly mangled that it would have to be amputated. I’d be determined and stupid enough to learn how to climb with only one arm, but I’d really prefer not to.

  I could only move my head a fraction of an inch, but it was enough to see that my hands had been left exposed and were covered in scratches and bruises. I knew some of them were old wounds, but there was fresh blood where some of my nails had been torn off. I’d likely scrabbled for purchase along the cliff face as I’d fallen, ripping them off on the stone as I’d tried to save myself.

  At least I’d have a good story if I made it out of this alive.

  When the stretcher finally reached its destination inside the medivac chopper, I was greeted by two flight nurses. They already knew my name and provided theirs, but my head was so sore I couldn’t remember them. When I saw their faces, I realized they meant to take me to a hospital, which was the last thing I wanted.

  Even though my head was pounding and my mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton, I begged them to reroute to a remote cabin close by where a friend of mine could patch me up. She lived alone near the base camp of another peak and had treated many of the various injuries I’d received over the years. She’d have no problem doing it again.

  I couldn’t go to a government-run hospital. Better I’d died falling down that mountain than end up in the hands of the feds.

  The nurses would have none of it.

  “Don’t be silly, dear,” the head nurse, an older woman with a no-nonsense attitude clucked. “you’re lucky you’re not dead, or significantly brain damaged.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Although if you keep insisting on unreasonable things, I’ll have to rerun that scan.”

  “Really, I’m fine,” I ground out.

  “Really, the hospital is the best place for you,” she snapped. “You’ll be safe there.”

  If only they knew.

  I watched helplessly as they started their assessment of my injuries.

  “Right arm is definitely broken, possibly in three places. Head trauma is likely, as evidenced by the patient’s slurred speech and nonsensical requests. We can’t yet rule out internal injuries—she’ll need a full-body scan to assess that,” one of them said.

  The other nurse was typing all of this up onto a portable tablet, but her brow was furrowed. I didn’t think my heart could sink any further, but I was quickly proven wrong.

  “I’m trying to add your notes to the system so the hospital can access them prior to our arrival, but I can’t find her. You sure her name is Ferne Whittaker? With or without the ‘e’ at the end?” she asked.

  “With. Try it without?” the other nurse suggested.

  It didn’t matter, they could spell it however they wanted; they wouldn’t find me in any of their tracking systems. I was a ghost.

  “That’s odd,” I laughed, but even to my ears it sounded weak. “Maybe it’ll be easier for everyone if you just take me to my friend. She’s pretty close, right?”

  She just ignored me, typing away, searching for information.

  I tried to knock the tablet out of the nurse’s hands, but I was so weak I could barely think straight, much less physi
cally assault an unrestrained nurse in perfect health.

  My head was so sore it felt like it was about to split. I couldn’t keep my eyes open and it was evident that the nurses had given me some sort of sedative, but whether it was before or after I’d tried to fight them I wasn’t sure.

  Before I knew it or could say another word, I’d passed out again.

  I opened my eyes again once we’d landed, the jolt of the chopper hitting the concrete shaking me back to reality.

  My mind could focus on nothing but the fact I was being wheeled into a hospital. It was pristinely white, even on the outside, clinical and foreboding.

  Once inside, they brought me straight to surgery. There was no time to form words before they hooked me up to even more machines and pumped me full of anesthetic, dragging me under again to where everything was black and painless.

  When I woke for the third time, I was lying in a basic, yet comfortable hospital bed. Someone had taken great care in treating me, tucking the sheets around my aching body and dimming the lights so as not to hurt my sensitive eyes once I woke. I felt a sharp surge of gratitude for whoever had done so.

  But my contentment was short-lived as the memories of the chopper flight flooded back. My guts roiled as I recalled the nurses’ conversation about how they couldn’t find my name in their system and how I’d tried—and failed—to discourage them from bringing me here. I knew it was only a matter of time before I’d have a government officer on my trail.

  I calmed my rapid breathing as my eyes attempted to focus. My right arm was splinted and the cuts and bruises on my body were treated. Thick white gauze had been taped down all over my skin. I tried to pull myself up into a sitting position, hoping I could see out of the window in front of me and signal a doctor over, but I could barely move without my entire body barking in pain.

  “It’s probably not a good idea for you to be moving so much,” a voice I didn’t recognize said from near the foot of the bed.

  I shot straight up despite the pain, locating what could only be a government operative sitting in a hard, plastic chair, eyes trained on me and holding.

  “Who the hell are you?” I asked, my voice croaking out of me.

  “You must know that evading registration is a criminal offense. Otherwise, why would you have told the nurses not to bring you to the hospital? You would have died,” the operative said, a cunning smile playing on his lips.

  “A friend of mine who’s a healer lived closer to the site of my accident than this hospital—I figured she could help me faster,” I lied.

  The operative only stared at me, his face a blank mask.

  “Besides, forcing anyone to enter into a database for the sole purpose of putting them into a breeding program against their will is disgusting. I reserve the right to have no part in it,” I said before I could stop myself.

  The operative’s face remained completely emotionless. He was silent for a long moment before he spoke again.

  “You have two options, Ferne Whittaker. You can go to jail for upwards of twenty years for failing to register, or you can be tested right here, today, for your mate. Choose.”

  “No,” I refused.

  It was a risky game to play.

  “Choose now. You don’t want me choosing for you—I have no pity for criminals of any sort.”

  “It’s not a crime to demand sovereignty over my body,” I snapped.

  “It is when it violates a peace treaty that’s kept hostile aliens from invading our planet again,” he retorted. “Make your choice.”

  Fuck that stupid treaty.

  “I’ve just come out of surgery. I want more time to think about this—I need more time to think about this.”

  “You’ve had more than enough time to think about this while you were out here pretending to be something you’re not. Choose.” His expression remained implacable, but subtle malice glinted in his eyes.

  My thoughts were racing a mile a minute. If I went to jail I’d be utterly and completely trapped, no chance of getting out for years to come. If I chose to get tested, maybe I could eventually escape to another planet. I was nothing if not resourceful—at least I’d have options if I went the testing route.

  And what were the odds I’d even get matched anyway? Slim to none? I’d probably be fine and then this doofus would be forced to leave me alone.

  I hoped I wouldn’t live to regret my decision.

  “Fine. I’ll get tested, but please, let me get some rest first?” I asked.

  A rictus grin took up residence on his previously bland face, striking fear into the very marrow of my bones.

  “Nope,” was all he said, lips popping on the ‘p.’

  Before I could utter a word of protest, someone—a nurse, I assumed—entered the room and began fiddling with my bed. She was quick and efficient and whisked me, bed and all, out of the room and down several long, winding corridors. By the time we stopped, it was clear I was deep within the hospital.

  The room she brought me to was small and windowless, filled with many machines and devices I’d never seen before, clearly alien tech. She remained silent as she worked, moving me this way and that, using so many machines on me I lost count.

  By the time she was finished, my body was completely healed, including my mangled arm. She’d scrubbed and groomed me, and I couldn’t recall the last time I’d ever felt so clean.

  Lastly, she took a blood sample from one of my fingertips and loaded it into a computer. The test took no time at all to run, emitting a cheerful chime within a minute or so.

  “That’s a match,” she said, smiling as she turned to look at me. “We’re implanting you with a translator.”

  I’d been healed so I could have fought her, but my brain was far too addled to process what had happened.

  That moment’s hesitation was all she needed to paralyze me momentarily so that they could load me into the teleportation room.

  Click to get Kyre now!

  Rogue Mate

  Science fiction romance is the destination of the Rogue Star…. Hop on board!

  Our rescuers are a group of pirates. Or smugglers. They're not exactly answering questions, either.

  More importantly, they're giant, golden skinned aliens...

  And their rogue of a captain seems very interested in the little human commander.

  Me.

  Rogue Mate is the first in the Rogue Star science fiction alien romance series. Click now to start the adventure!

  Copyright © 2019 by Ava York

  All rights reserved. These books or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the Author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and situations within its pages and places or persons, living or dead, is unintentional and co-incidental.