by S. E. Smith
“It is for my female,” Razor stated bluntly. “Is he here?”
“There is a super-cell developing. The transport is just landing, but it wasn’t a smooth flight. He isn’t very happy with you. You know how he hates transporting down as it is,” Cutter said, looking at Kali with a speculative look. “So, this is the female that saved your life when the human transport crashed.”
“Yes, she is my Amate,” Razor replied sharply. “She is to be protected at all cost.”
“I’m not a mutt,” she snapped before she turned to the other male in the hopes of getting some help. “Tell him to let me go. He has no right taking me from my home.”
Cutter’s eyes glittered with amusement at her stubborn tone. “Amate. You are his Amate. That means you belong to him. I’m afraid he wouldn’t listen me, little warrior.”
“I don’t belong to anyone.” She muttered before exhaustion and the loss of blood became too much for her to fight against. “Bloody hell, does he boss everyone around? I just want to go home. I need to warn Destin,” she whispered in a barely audible voice.
*.*.*
Razor felt the change in Kali as her head fell back against the crook of his arm. Her face twisted in pain as the movement put pressure on her wound. Her eyes were closed, and though she tried to hide it, he could see the tears of pain blending with the rain.
He strode under the covered walkway, picking up speed as she became more lethargic. He cradled her head when it rolled to the side. A muttered exclamation drew his attention. He knew what Patch must be thinking from the accusing look of disapproval on his face.
“I didn’t do this,” he snapped with an unfamiliar need to defend himself. “She jumped off a building and crashed through a window.”
Patch’s eyebrow rose and his mouth tightened into a flat line. He ran his hand over her throat, counting before he gently lifted one of her eyelids. Turning, he barked out a series of sharp commands to two men standing to the left of him.
“Why would she jump off a building?” Patch snapped out as he pushed through the door following one of the men. “And how far did she fall?”
“She didn’t fall,” Razor responded, ignoring Patch’s first question. “She grabbed a cable and tried to swing to the roof of a building across from the one we were on. It wasn’t long enough and she crashed through a window two floors below. It was a horizontal impact, not vertical.”
“Again,” Patch said, nodding to the bed in the makeshift medical room. “Why would she jump off a building?”
Razor tenderly laid Kali down on her side on the bed. A guttural curse in his native language ripped from his throat when he saw the actual wound across her back and shoulder. He stepped around to the other side when Patch pushed him aside so he could see it.
He ran trembling fingers along her pale cheek. “She was trying to get away from me,” he finally admitted in a low voice.
Patch paused for a fraction of a second. His gaze narrowed in on the trembling in Razor’s hand as he touched the human female. Pressing the sedative injector against her neck, he depressed the button. Once he was confident she was asleep and would not feel what he was about to do, he reached for a pair of shears to cut away her torn and bloody shirt.
“Now that I find that hard to believe. I don’t think I’ve ever met a female that resisted your attentions before,” Patch replied calmly as he opened the back of her shirt. “I need a cleanser and a sealer.”
Razor listened as Patch ordered one of the resident medics to get him the items he needed. He continued to stroke Kali’s hair and face as his friend and personal healer cared for her. He stared down at her face. This was the first time he had really seen her up close in the light. She was even more beautiful, more exotic, than he remembered.
“She almost died twice tonight,” he murmured, touching the corner of her lips. “Several human males opened fire on her the first time.”
Patch continued cleansing the wound. He pulled several small slivers of broken glass from the jagged edge. The wound was a good fifteen centimeters in length. While it wasn’t deep all the way across, at least half of it was six millimeters in depth.
“Did you kill the males?” Patch asked as he applied another layer of cleanser to the wound to protect it from infection and to help reduce scarring. “Is that why you were on the building?”
“She did. She flipped over a burnt transport like it was a toy and made a clean kill-shot to the head,” Razor replied with a touch of pride and admiration. “She takes too many chances with her life.”
Patch raised his eyes to Razor’s for a brief moment before returning to the process of sealing Kali’s torn flesh. Fresh blood ran in thin rivulets, staining the pristine sheet beneath her body. There was something strange about the way Razor was reacting to this female. He was acting like she was his…
“I have claimed her as my Amate. I need you to mark us,” Razor murmured, curling his fingers in her short hair. “She is going to fight me, but she is mine.”
Patch’s lips twitched in amusement. “Shouldn’t you wait until she wakes? You know you could be committing yourself to a long, lonely and possibly very frustrating life if she refuses you.”
Razor’s lips twitched as well when he thought of the battle he was likely to have on his hands when Kali was feeling better. His body warmed and his damn cock hardened at the thought. He tenderly picked up her hand and turned it. A dark frown creased his brow when he saw her ravaged palm.
“It will be an exciting and rewarding life. It is a Trivator warrior’s dream. One I can honestly say I never thought I would experience,” he countered. “Her hands are damaged as well.”
Patch muttered under his breath when he saw the ripped tissue. He carefully rolled Kali onto her freshly healed back. It would take a few more days for the flesh to be completely mended and it would be tender but she would live. She would also have a scar, but it would be a faint one, mostly where the deepest part of the cut had been.
He carefully cleaned each of her palms, spraying the cleanser on them, then applying the sealer to each cut no matter how small it was. He had been on too many planets where the smallest wound could prove deadly if not cared for.
“Are you sure about this?” He asked, staring at the pale face of the female before looking back up at Razor. “Once done, only death will free you.”
Razor’s eyes flashed in annoyance. His irritation must have shown clearly because his friend turned with a sharp nod and muttered he would return shortly. Several long minutes later he returned with a wide circular device.
Razor watched carefully as Patch programmed the device. It would embed his mark on her and her’s on him. They would forever be tied together, or so he hoped. If she rejected him…
A shiver of apprehension ran down his spine. If she rejected him, Patch was right. He would be condemned to a long, lonely and frustrating life. Once a Trivator warrior gave his word to a female, she became his life, his future. He would give his seed only to her, meaning he would forsake all other physical release to prove his commitment to her and only her.
He pushed aside his doubts. She was his. Something inside him connected with her on a basic level that he did not understand. Frustrated at his lack of understanding ate at him. Pushing his feelings of uncertainty aside, he gritted his teeth and held out his arm.
“Do it,” he ordered.
Patch slipped the opened device around Razor’s left wrist and snapped it shut. He secured the lock mechanism and checked the programming once more before he looked up at Razor one last time. With a nod, he pressed the button, sealing Razor’s fate to that of an unknown human female.
Ten minutes later, Razor gently picked Kali’s unconscious form up in his arms once again. The dark marks around both of their wrists stood out, especially those around her pale, delicate wrists. Pride, and another unknown feeling, poured through him as he gazed at the markings for several long seconds.
He nodded to Patch as his friend mumbled tha
t Kali needed to rest as much as possible over the next couple of days to fully recover from her wounds and to give her body time to replenish the blood she had lost.
“Good luck, my friend,” Patch muttered, staring at Kali’s relaxed face. “She is an unusual female. I hope you know what you are doing.”
“Yes, she is, and I have no doubts that she is meant for me,” Razor responded in a slightly husky voice before he cleared his throat. “Tell Cutter I want to see him in one hour. Plans need to be set into motion to end the conflict here. I have duties back on Rathon that require my attention and I want to leave within the fortnight.”
“I will notify him. He was in the command center checking on the weather. This planet’s weather is very unstable,” Patch complained, returning the marking device to the medical satchel he had retrieved a short time ago. “If the weather is like it was on my way down to the planet, I’m not leaving. I hate flying as it is.”
“It might be best if you remained close,” Razor commented over his shoulder as he stepped through the doorway. “I have a feeling things are not going to go as smoothly as Mexico City.”
Patch stared at Razor’s retreating back with a look of dismay and resignation on his face. The rebels in Mexico City had fought fiercely before being overwhelmed. If Razor classified that as ‘smooth’ then he hated to think what this city was going to be like. Personally, he would have been happier remaining on board the Journey. These humans were some of the most stubborn creatures he had ever studied. Personally, he was ready for the return trip home.
He shook his head in wonder before he picked up his bag. He needed to find Cutter. Maybe he could explain what was happening to Razor.
Chapter 13
Razor pushed the door to his personal quarters open with his shoulder. He was careful not to jar the precious bundle in his arms. He drew in a deep breath at his thoughts. Kali’s sweet scent, tinged with her blood, filled his lungs and pulled on a deep need to care for her.
The sedative Patch gave her would keep her unconscious for several more hours, giving her some of the rest she desperately needed. The first thing he needed to do was clean her up and get her warm. Her clothes were still damp from the rain and every few seconds he could feel her shiver.
Laying her down on his bed, he wished he was back at his home on Rathon. There he could easily bathe and care for her in the spacious cleansing room adjacent to his bedroom. His quarters here were small and barren in comparison to his residence. He sank down on the edge of the bed and gazed at her relaxed features.
She was paler, softer than the females of his world. Her bone structure was smaller and more delicate as well. A smile curved his lips as he touched her short hair. It was straight and feathered around her face.
He carefully began peeling her ruined shirt from her. It was easy since Patch had cut it down the middle in the back. She was wearing a black restraint around her breasts. Her breasts, while not large, would easily fill his hands when he cupped them.
A low groan escaped him as a wave of heat flashed through him. He studied the garment for a moment before he realized that the release for it was nestled between her soft mounds. He quickly snapped the clasp. His breathing grew heavy as the black lace cups fell apart. Sweat beaded on his brow as he forced his eyes downward to the fastening holding her pants on. Standing up, he quickly removed the soft soled shoes she was wearing. Tossing them aside, he unfastened her leggings and pulled them and the lace panties covering her womanhood away. Once she was undressed, he grabbed the blanket folded at the end of the bed up and covered her.
“Oh fi’ta, I do not understand what control you have over me. I can only hope you do not take too long to accept that we belong together,” he muttered under his breath as he turned and stepped into the small bathroom.
*.*.*
Ten minutes later, Razor grimaced as he gently lowered Kali’s body into the warm water. He had filled the tub as high as it would go, but it still barely covered her. He grabbed one of the towels he had set out and used it as a pillow under her head.
Reaching for one of the washcloths, he quickly lathered it up before tenderly stroking it over her skin. He took his time, memorizing every inch of her. He noted every scar, every bruise, on her body. She had a long scar on one of her arms as if it had been broken at one time. There was another long scar just below her right knee.
Almost a dozen other scars, some small, some large, covered her delicate skin. She also had a large number of bruises. Guilt, another unfamiliar emotion, pulled at him. He should have had Patch do a thorough examination on her.
He ran his fingers over a large bruise on her right hip. She must have hit it as she went through the window. He bowed his head and closed his eyes as he remembered her body flying off the roof. Panic had held him in its greedy grip for several long seconds before he rushed over to the edge.
Locking the memory away, he continued to bathe her. Once he was finished, he pulled the drain and reached down into the water to lift her up. He balanced her limp body on the narrow counter as he swept up another towel and carefully wrapped it around her.
Picking her up, he returned to the bedroom and once again laid her down, this time under the covers that he had tossed back with one hand. He shifted her to the side closest to the wall before covering her again. Only when he was satisfied he had done what he could to make her comfortable did he take care of his own damp clothing.
He quickly shed his clothing, tossing them into the hamper by the bathroom door as he strode into the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, he stood by the bed watching as Kali lay curled in a small ball. He undid the towel at his waist, letting it fall to the ground, and pulled the covers back so he could climb in beside her.
“You, little warrior, are killing me,” he muttered when she turned and snuggled against his body. He knew she was just seeking the warmth, but his body didn’t care. “Rest, my stubborn human. I will protect you.”
Razor knew he didn’t have much time before he was to meet with Cutter, but Kali came first. He would turn up the heat in the room before he left to keep her from getting chilled. He pressed a tender kiss to the top of her head as she sighed in her sleep. A silly grin curved his lips and his arms tightened protectively around her as it sank in that he had an Amate.
“I will never let you go,” he vowed in the silence of the room. “I will protect you and care for you and you will come to accept me as your Amate.”
*.*.*
“How long is the weather expected to continue like this?” Razor asked in frustration.
He stared out at the thick sheets of rain mixed with sleet. An Arctic blast from Canada had intensified unexpectedly and was sweeping through the area. Several feet of early winter snow was expected. Right now, he could barely see a few meters outside the window.
He ran his hand through his hair in aggravation. He had been fifteen minutes late to the meeting he had ordered. It had taken every ounce of his self-discipline to pull himself out of Kali’s arms and get dressed. His plans to return to Rathon in a fortnight were quickly beginning to look less and less likely to happen.
“Four, possibly five days,” Cutter responded grimly looking out of the window with a worried frown. “This is going to put an incredible hardship on the humans in the city.”
“Won’t that make your job easier?” Badrick drawled as he stepped into the room. He looked with disdain at the cracked leather covering on the office chair before sitting down with a sigh of resignation. “They will be either eager to surrender or they will be dead. Either way, it will allow you to finish your mission here on this planet.”
“Your compassion for this species is commendable,” Cutter muttered sarcastically.
Badrick turned his icy blue eyes on Cutter and sneered. “Isn’t there some duty you need to attend to? Perhaps cleaning the waste removal units?” He drawled.
Cutter took a threatening step toward Badrick. Razor shot his second-in-command a sharp look and shook his head. B
adrick had arrived just before all transports were grounded. He wanted to know what the blue bastard wanted. He was tired of Badrick’s lies and deceit. If the councilman wasn’t careful, Cutter would be the least of his concerns.
“Enough, Badrick,” Razor snapped. “What are you doing here?”
Badrick turned his gaze to Razor’s intense gold ones. Within seconds, he shifted his gaze to stare out the window. After several long seconds he finally responded to Razor’s question when he realized that neither Razor nor Cutter were prepared to continue their discussion until he answered the question.
“I heard that you captured one of the rebels. I thought perhaps I could be of assistance,” Badrick finally answered. “I have dealt with these rebels before and thought you could use my knowledge to resolve the situation faster.”
Razor heard the lie in Badrick’s voice. He frowned as a brief memory flashed through his mind. Kali’s accusing voice echoed harshly as he remembered her questioning him.
Why are you supporting Colbert? She had demanded. Don’t you know what he is like? Don’t you see how he doesn’t care about the people living in the southern half of the city? Every day we take in refugees seeking a safer way to live. He doesn’t care about anyone or anything.
“It was you,” Razor murmured as his eyes narrowed on the councilman. “You are the one supplying Allen with the weapons, one of which was used to attack the helicopter I was on.”
Razor watched as Badrick paled until his blue skin took on a sick pasty bluish-white tint. Cutter moved in behind the male when he tried to rise. Razor shook his head. No, the bastard was his. It was within his right as the Chancellor over the Trivator Forces to enforce the laws of the Alliance. No one was above the law of the Alliance, especially those sworn to uphold them.
“They… it was necessary to bring peace to the city. I was doing what I felt was in the best interest of the humans and the Alliance. Allen had the larger and more powerful force. It seemed natural that with enough weapons, the conflict would soon end,” Badrick replied, sitting back as Razor stepped closer to him. “I was thinking of the Alliance,” he repeated weakly.
