Tipping the glass to his trembling lips, Wyst tried to cover his astonishment. He’d heard whisperings of the same when he’d been a recruit and scheduled on a lonely outpost, but he’d discounted it as yet another scare tactic to keep him in line.
Should he admit to the knowledge?
Or simply nod in understanding?
Letting his half-empty drink drift to the desktop, he gave a short, jerky nod.
“You know our history then? The one not taught in your Academy?”
“About the Basules?”
“Christ! Basule is the slang word for Basulari which just fucking means rebel in Baspic.” C’ynyt swallowed the last in his glass before slamming it on the wood in front of him. “Didn’t they goddamn teach you anything at that fucking, fancy-assed Academy?”
To Wyst’s mind, the conversation had deteriorated rapidly and made his body want to go back into battle-mode. Shooting to his feet and turning towards the door, he announced, “I need to collect my female and go back to the domicile we have rented.”
“Go on then. Run away from the truth just like you and your kind always have,” C’ynyt waved a hand toward the door Wyst opened. “Anytime you want to know what really happened to cause the rift between our kind, feel free to come see me.”
The Protector went to turn away, but was again stopped by the other male’s voice. “Heard you’ve got some trouble dogging your ass. As long as it doesn’t hit my doorstep, I pledge my help mainly ‘cause I like your girl and she seems to like you. Though Gyed knows why.”
Wyst chose to disregard the man and took a step forward only to come chest-to-chest with the diminutive female recently mentioned.
“Wyst! Oh hey baby,” she said, placing a small warm hand against his chest to steady herself while lifting her smiling face up to his. “Lemme just grab my purse and we can go. Did you meet C’ynyt?”
It was more than obvious he and his pixie were in different emotional states and he struggled to push the darkness of C’ynyt’s confessions away as he answered. “Yes. Did you have a good work?”
Giggling, she ducked underneath his arm before he could stop her and went to one of the metal rectangles and released one of the squares to reveal a drawer. “You betcha, although the way to ask is ‘how was your shift’.” Scrunching her nose, she snatched at her large bag and turned her head to the Basule behind the desk. “English isn’t his first language.”
“So I’ve discovered,” C’ynyt rumbled in reply. “Have a good night.”
“You too, big guy,” she shot back before turning to face Wyst fully. “You ready?”
Wyst didn’t like it. Didn’t like it one bit the way his pixie talked to his mortal enemy and a male who sought to undermine the whole of the Picari culture with lies and half-truths.
But he especially didn’t like that she’d named him in words she often called Wyst, one’s he considered to be her own for him. Rather than make a scene though, he grabbed her hand and with a quick chin-jut to the male behind the desk, Wyst stepped lively through the kitchen where Reg was rinsing glassware and out into the common area. Without any more words, he tugged on his pixie’s hand as he stalwartly strode past the bar until he reached the public door, only to yank it open hard enough that it bounced back against his shoulder. “Let us hit it, leca purvya.”
Standing up on the tips of her toes, his Pam brushed her mouth over the firm, tense line of his jaw. “You’re English is getting there, honey. Now, if I could only teaching you to use contractions more often.”
Casting a look over his shoulder, Wyst’s eyes caught the female hybrid-Basule’s. And as he watched, C’ynyt’s daughter dragged her thumb slowly and deliberately across her throat in a manner, and with such a venomous look in her eyes, Wyst couldn’t mistake it for anything other than what it was. A threat not to be missed.
Chapter Twenty Two
We exited the bar and were out on the sidewalk, my chin tucked into the top of the heaviest jacket I’d packed (one more meant for Phoenix in fall, not the early winter of eastern Wyoming), with my hands balled and its deep, warm pockets. To my mind Wyst had his brood on, silently chewing over something he had in his head. And I discovered when he got quiet and uncommunicative, he tended to keep me out of the loop.
For me, ignorance was never bliss especially when the truth eventually came out. Which is why I tended to lean more toward to the old ‘knowledge is power’ credo. “What’s doing in that alien brain, big guy?”
When he didn’t immediately reply, I looked up at him and got caught up in the sheer, masculine beauty of Wyst.
My Picari warrior companion.
And erstwhile lover, who I was beginning to think wasn’t so…erstwhile. Not if the doings of that morning were any indication. And if I had the right of it, Wyst’s little speech of how we should never have sex again so we could remain focused on our mission meant diddly-squat. In light that we shared thoughts as well as emotions. And especially when I thought of the metal on my wrist, the one indicating I’d been hand-picked for the gorgeous, yet clueless alien walking beside me. Although I hadn’t decided if I believed that or not quite yet.
“I do not like that you called the Basule by the same name you call me.”
I knew what he was talking about, because I’d felt a wave of disapproval hit me as soon as I called Danny’s dad, ‘big guy’. And since I could only sense one other person’s feelings besides my own, I knew I’d screwed up the second it happened. “It won’t happen again. But I can tell you’re using that to cover something bigger, something that is freaking you right the fuck out. And because you’re not copping to it, it’s making me a little antsy myself.”
Like he’d done earlier in the day he came to a full stop in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at me to as if I had two heads or something. After a couple of seconds he sighed. “I do not think I like the emotion-sharing portion of our connection.”
“That makes two of us, but I don’t know how to stop it. Do you?”
He didn’t answer with words nor did he drop the shields so I could read his thoughts. But he did grab my nearest arm, pulling my hand out of my pocket only to tuck it inside his leather one as he began to walk again only this time at a much slower pace. And I don’t know why, but the move made me feel cared for and precious. At least enough to ask, “So tell me what you’re worried about, babe.”
“Both Pete and the Basule say there are strangers in town who were asking about you and I, showing pictures of our faces to the merchants in town. According to the Basule—”
“His name is C’ynyt, Wyst,” I corrected.
I felt more than saw as he glanced my way before continuing. “C’ynyt believes their efforts to discover our presence has 90% success rate.”
Oh shit. Like we needed this little bit of news today of all days. Strangers searching for us, going from business to business? Seemed like the crew from the Searcher had somehow discovered where we might be on our little detour to South Dakota. And as my mind raced to figure out exactly how they’d gain that knowledge, I immediately began to sift through every one would come into contact with trying to decide who would give us up and who wouldn’t.
I didn’t think old Pete would, nor would Dani and her family. But what about the people at the diner and my customers? And it went without saying Ms. Myrtle, especially with the proper monetary inducement, would hand us over without blinking an eye.
What the fuck we were going to do?
And I didn’t realize I’d uttered that thought aloud, or maybe just loud enough in my head that he picked it up. “We will do as warriors always will in situations like these. We will fight. We will battle those who wish to do us harm, to derail our mission that is just and true in the protection of innocents.”
Yeah.
Okay.
His words sounded good, lofty even, but it gave me no concrete information of what our plan might be in doing all the fighting and battling. “I need more concrete ideas here, warrior man.”<
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And just as the last of the steam of my words faded into the cold night air, a chunk of brick exploded not of foot away from Wyst’s face. Since I was already wigged out at the thought of being captured, it didn’t take much for my body to go into fight or flight mode. The unfortunate part was I couldn’t seem to make up my mind whether to run or to drop to the sidewalk in order to make a smaller target.
Wyst made the decision for me by shoving me to the ground as he whipped out his tresl from his own crouch and accessed the weapons menu. Blindly reaching into my purse with trembling hands, I tried to locate my cellphone by feel alone as my eyes searched the darkness on the other side of the street. Grabbing it, another zing flew by Wyst’s head which he managed to duck, but it hit the large plate-glass window behind us with such force I heard the crackle of glass splintering.
He managed to get off a couple of shots but soon he has half pulling, half dragging me into one of the small walkways between two of the brick businesses, effectively both hiding and protecting us from a shower of laser-blasts. As I got my knees underneath me and accessed my cellphone screen I heard the pounding of footsteps coming from behind us. Without thinking, I pointed my now armed weapon in that direction before Dani and C’ynyt called out our names. Sagging against the wall, I looked to Wyst for instruction.
“Give the…give C’ynyt your tresl, pixie.” His command, though given in a whisper was firm enough I knew better than to argue. “I only hope you remember how to use one, old man.”
C’ynyt snorted and pushed a couple of buttons on the keypad. “It’s only set to a pussy-like stun but I think I can change it for the better. In the meantime, let’s send our girls to safety before we really rock this shit, okay?”
Dani grabbed at my arm but I resisted, needing Wyst to give me a sign he was okay with me abandoning him in the middle of a fire-fight with our unseen assailants. Duck-walking my way to his position, I unshielded my fearful thoughts enough for him to read both them and my racing emotions.
I will be fine, mica azjani purvya, he replied, his hand cupping the edge of my jaw as he dropped his lips to mine for a quick kiss of reassurance. Allow the…allow me and C’ynyt to do the fighting as you make yourself safe. I will find you when we are done.
I hated it, hated the fact he was sending me away. But if he believed he and Dani’s dad could do better than just the two of us, I guess I didn’t really have a choice in the matter. I’ll see you soon. And you better be in one piece, Wyst.
Stretching my mouth back up to his, I initiated a quick kiss of my own.
Only to find his lips were tilted up in a smile as his rueful mirth filled both my head and heart.
*.*.*.*.*
“There are six in the shadows of separate doorways and one tucked back providing instruction and direction,” C’ynyt whispered, his face still tilted toward the lit screen of the pixie’s tresl as he changed the settings on it from ‘stun’ to ‘destroy’. “And I’m guessing from the way the assholes are dressed, they’re Picari starship employees, right?”
“How do you know this?” Wyst knew if the Basule’s facts were true then he could’ve overtaken and subdued those who meant him and his pixie harm, especially if they were the same crew members who’d attacked her and Rykhan’s mate from before. None of the Searcher’s personnel were warriors; so while they could wield a weapon they had no training or skills in the fine art of battle.
Unlike a former Basule pirate.
C’ynyt’s mouth drew up into a grin as he put the final touches on the tresl’s changes. “Because I sent Reg and Blythe to investigate the situation before Dani and I joined your little party.”
“Is your plyca armed?”
“Yep. Reg has a baseball bat, Dani the twelve-gauge and Blythe’s got a handgun, but I told them not to get involved unless your people came after them directly. No need to involve Johnny Law if possible. Or have this shit blow back on me and mine if we can help it, right?” As the screen dimmed, Wyst saw the other male shoot a frown his way. “Like I said before, I’ll help you as long as it doesn’t bring trouble to my door. Human or otherwise. But you still haven’t told me who these clowns are or why they’re after you.”
Wyst swallowed, everything in him warring against telling his mortal enemy of his and his companion’s circumstances. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, he heard through his connection with his pixie, and recognized the truth of what she conveyed. Although how she’d been able to overcome his mental shields and intrude was a problem he’d have to address later.
“I came to Earth on Mate Quest, in order to repopulate Galaxia and Nutrol only to discover the search wasn’t to obtain mates, but to harvest human female eggs. One of my warrior brothers successfully bred his one true and legitimate mate and is being hunted. My human female and I were meant to be their protectors until our transport broke.” Wyst took a deep breath and held it, loath to admit to the last of it. “Because I accepted the mission of protection there is a Writ of Treason against me with orders to send me to the ether on sight.”
With his enhanced eyesight, Wyst saw C’ynyt give a long, slow blink after his words finally died out. “Shit, dude. Sucks to be you, right now, doesn’t it?”
The way the other alien spoke was so similar to his pixie, holding the same thread of repressed humor, Wyst felt himself relax even as the lasers from across the street continued to blast, causing chunks of brick and debris to rain down onto the little passageway he’d found. His wahrom began to blaze, creating tiny electrical charges to run through his body as all his senses sharpened and focused in readiness. Easing forward, he easily determined where the blasts were coming from before spotting the crew members half-hidden in the recessed doorways of the businesses across the street.
“Since I am already under a death threat, I have no qualms in doing everything necessary to secure my…I mean, our continued existence.” Wyst realized he’d never spoken truer words in his life.
“So do you have some sort of plan on how we’re gonna fucking do all that securing?” C’ynyt’s purple eyes shifted from doorway to doorway as if he, too, was assessing where and by whom the blasts were made.
“Only four are firing, two from the left and two from the right.” And from what Wyst could both see and hear, three of the four in the doorways were shaking too hard to aim true. “I cannot sense the moves of the last of their party.”
“Me either.” C’ynyt leaned forward, twisting his arm so his hand held the newly modified weapon in a sideways grip as he confirmed Wyst’s assessment. “I’ll ask Blythe and Reg to scope out the area in the parking lot behind. Does that work for you?”
“Yes.” Wyst was admittedly both impressed and honored that C’ynyt and his family were there to help. Although he was sure he could’ve handled the attack on his own. He was, after all, a decorated warrior of the Picari Protectorate. “Can you take down the two to the south as I subdue the others?”
“Fuck, yeah. That works for me,” the other male breathed in what Wyst read as excitement. “Shit, kid. Let’s fucking rock this place!”
With his borrowed tresl blazing as fast as his thumb could move, C’ynyt ran out of the small passage, moving in a zigzag pattern while aiming at the two far doorways. Giving Wyst a chance to catch the male located directly from across from him unaware as the less experienced crew member revealed himself when trying to take out the Basule. The way his tresl flew out of his hands was satisfying, but it took another shot to ensure his assailant was no longer a threat to either him or C’ynyt.
Time to move.
Wyst ran out far to his right, firing high as he deliberately passed his two assailants in order to both confuse them and showcase his superior fighting skills. His plan was to go beyond where the members of the Searcher’s crew laid in wait then double back and subdue the two males at close range. Since he could almost smell their fear, Wyst knew it wouldn’t take much to wrench it higher. And the terrified, unskilled would-be assassins, males he’d previou
sly shared meals, drinks and camaraderie with on the long journey to the tiny, blue planet returned his fire—albeit in sputtering fits and starts.
Scrambling, the length of his unbound hair flying behind, Wyst made his dash along the street randomly, ducking and straightening as the bleating of the various alarms of the damaged buildings kept time with his heartbeat’s accelerated rhythm. He just needed to move a few meters more in order to become safely secreted by the darkness in between the cleverly situated streetlamps.
Once safely tucked into a doorway, he checked his tresl’s power setting as his mind raced.
How had he and the pixie’s whereabouts been discovered?
Who was the leader of the landing party and why did he hang back?
Stealthily stepping from one doorway to the next, Wyst heard the sounds of C’ynyt’s battle, willing his former nemesis success in quelling the attackers. But Wyst still wondered who led the group since most officers in the Picari fleet would be at the forefront, rallying their males in order to…
Oof!
Wyst felt the immediate sting of laser fire which he knew from experience would grow worse as it invaded and spread from the tiny hole just under his right pectoral muscle to his entire body. And as he blinked, his brain supplied the trajectory of the beam that hit him.
It had, like the others, been wild. But it was a lucky sort of wild in that it bounced off the tin overhang of the building across the street, going wide until he’d stepped directly into its beam in his rush to overtake the first attacker.
But Gyed, he hurt!
Rounding the building’s edge, he came face-to-face with one of Jyrl’s nurses. Young Cy’ron, the fresh-faced boy about Reg’s age, held his weapon in a double-handed grip, the whole unit shaking as he pointed it directly at Wyst’s chest. “Do-don’t make me kill yo-you, warrior,” the male, just barely out of his youth, stuttered. “Su-surrender or d-die.”
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