Rebel Mate

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Rebel Mate Page 2

by Grace Goodwin


  2

  Isaak, Sector Zero, Planet Occeron, Abandoned Prillon Outpost known as Omega Dome

  * * *

  “There’s a human female, just arrived.”

  “An Earthling.”

  “Too weak for me, one fuck would kill her…”

  “...she’s not for sale, fool.”

  “Everything is for sale, for the right price.”

  A very large male, possibly a Prillon and Atlan hybrid with a dark-red arm band pushed his way between the chatting outlaws. “She belongs to Cerberus.”

  The voices carried from the back of the small, filthy room where I sat with my tech buyer. My ears had picked up on the words, the important ones. A human female was here?

  I’d never known that to occur in all the time I’d been doing business here. I flicked a gaze to Ulza, for she wore the armband of Cerberus. She would know the truth of the gossip.

  “It is true.” She sat across from me, smirked because she knew exactly what I was thinking. “A human female in Sector Zero. But they are wrong on one thing. She is not for sale at any price. She now belongs to Cerberus.”

  I gave a grunt of reply, showing her complete indifference. Hopefully.

  I looked down at the tech unit in my hand, confirming that she had kept her word, and the credit transfer for the latest batch of Hive implants was complete.

  “You will keep your nose out of Cerberus business, won’t you Isaak?”

  “Not interested.” Not only did I not want to become tangled up in Cerberus business, but anything involving Ulza from Cerberus? She was more dangerous than anyone else I knew. Killing Hive and selling them for parts? No problem. But even I had some honor left. And if Ulza’s words were true and the female in question was here in the outer reaches of Coalition-controlled space because of Cerberus?

  She’d gotten mixed up in serious stuff. The question was how?

  No. I had to stay focused on why I was here. Sticking one’s nose in other people’s business was a good way to die.

  “Are you sure, Isaak? I wouldn’t want to have to kill you.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “I paid you as agreed. Now, I have business with Jirghogis.”

  I looked up then, the deadly blue Cerberus female watching me over the top of her drink. I knew I should keep my farking mouth shut, but I wasn’t an outcast because I always did the smart thing. The right thing? Usually. But the smartest? No. Seems I hadn’t learned a damn thing.

  “Exactly what kind of business?”

  She tapped her armband. I was shocked to receive an answer. “I am to deliver the human to Cerberus myself.”

  Her cackle made me sick. For the past five years, ever since I’d begun trading in stolen Hive tech, Ulza and I stayed out of each other’s way… outside of our tech dealings. I had no desire for that situation to change. She was a cousin to Cerberus himself, was a member of Cerberus legion and a known associate of the Silver Scions, a tightly knit syndicate of doctors, engineers, scientists and killers from every sector of the galaxy. They bought Hive integration technology and sold what they could on the black market as surgical enhancements to anyone with the credits to pay for it.

  Ulza bought every piece of Hive tech I brought to her without complaint. I didn’t like her, but I liked her business model. She always paid, up front and on time, and never asked where I procured my goods.

  “And Jirghogis procured her from…?” I asked although I knew she wouldn’t answer this one. I pushed my beverage container across the scarred tabletop. The thought of any human—fark that, anyone at all—dealing with Jirghogis, the creature whose shipment warehouse was used for illegal trade and auctions, made me choke down bile. He was far from humanoid, a hideous creature with huge eyes and a tail thicker than my torso. His exoskeleton was covered in scales, and those scales? Coated in poisonous slime that emitted an odor designed to sear the lungs of anyone who got too close.

  “So you are interested in the female.” She tipped her head to the others at tables nearby. “Like everyone else under this dome.”

  “Simply curious. We don’t get many humans out here,” I replied, glancing toward the nearest exit. It was time to leave. I had no desire to investigate the appearance of an unknown human nor in why Cerberus wanted her. The last time I’d tried to save someone, my brother, Malik, had paid the ultimate price for my failure. The accident was five years past. The memory of him dying in my arms so vivid, it could have been five hours ago.

  The wrong Councilor’s son had died that day. Malik had bled out in my arms in the middle of the desert, and there hadn’t been one farking thing I could do to save him. My father lost his heir, the responsible son, the one groomed from birth to take his place, and had been left with me.

  Rebellious. Impulsive. Bored with politics. Lacking in both patience and diplomacy. My brother had been mere minutes older than me, but his spirit had been wise. Measured. Compassionate.

  Everything I was not.

  Memories of my brother’s face pushed into my mind, and I forced them away. No. I wasn’t interested in saving anyone. Not anymore.

  I had finally completed my goal and gathered enough credit for the one thing I did want to buy, a weapons upgrade for my ship. Fuck yes. The Scion Spectra IV ion cannon. For several years now, I’d hunted down every Hive Soldier, Scout and Integration Unit I could find. I killed them all, without mercy, and stripped them for parts to sell to the Silver Scions. Where those Hive parts ended up or inside whom, I couldn’t care less. That was not my concern. If some asshole from Rogue 5 wanted a cyborg arm or enhanced vision, good on him—as long as he paid.

  “No, we do not. Stay out of my way, Isaak.”

  “Of course.” I wasn’t going to argue with her. That would be bad for business.

  “Good. That’s settled.” Ulza stood. The elder blue female was nearly six feet tall and lined with muscle. I didn’t dare take my eyes off her. The Xeriman race was known for both their bad temper and lack of control. Add the deadly fangs, and she could be truly terrifying. She was not full-blooded Xeriman. No one on Rogue 5 had pure blood left, their hybrid nature making them unpredictable.

  I didn’t know of her other business dealings, but I’d never once heard of her purchasing more than Hive Tech. A female? There were plenty within Cerberus legion. A human female would be… diverting, but why now? Why this one?

  I was curious, but I did not have time for a female. A mate needed shelter. Protection. Cautious handling. I couldn’t offer any of that. Not after what happened. It would be cruel and unfair to any Trion female to ask her to be mine. Cruel for me as well. It was the female who wore the chains on Trion. Marks of adornment, protection and mastery.

  While it was in a Trion male’s nature to control, I was worse than most of my kind. I needed a female to give herself to me without inhibition. Something inside me demanded submission. Complete. Total. I would not mate unless the female gave me total trust. Consent. A mate who would allow me to care for her completely, in every way. I needed a mate who needed more from me than sex. Sex was easy. I wanted a mate who would surrender her very soul into my keeping.

  The thought of taking a female against her will? Claiming her without her pleasure-filled cries? Repugnant. The idea of one being taken to Rogue 5, let alone Cerberus… she would not live long.

  She must have heard me grunt in disgust. “Do you have something else to say to me?” she asked.

  I shook my head, took a big swallow of my drink, wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “Good luck.”

  She turned and left. No goodbyes, but we weren’t friends. Our business was complete, and I had an ion cannon to pay for and finally possessed the credits to do it.

  I left soon after and walked the nearly deserted corridors of Omega Dome. The scents of sweat, piss and smugglers were something I’d long ago learned to ignore. The echoing emptiness, however, was disconcerting. No one was around. There was a reason for the eerie quiet. They must be gathering inside where
Jirghogis kept his merchandise to see the human.

  The female Ulza intended to take to Cerberus.

  I thought of my friends, Ivy and Zenos. Ivy was human, and she behaved nothing like any other female I’d ever met. She was anything but docile. In fact, I’d first assumed she was a rebel from Viken or Everis. An outcast like me. Someone who wanted to leave their past as far behind as possible. Especially once she bought the Hive tech from me and insisted I tell her how to contact the Silver Scions to have it implanted. Those implants had made Ivy stronger than most males. Her mate didn’t seem to mind. Zenos of Astra legion was even bigger than an Atlan.

  Thinking of Ivy and Zenos made me grin. They would be waiting for me to return to the Lelantos with my new and improved ship. They’d promised to get me drunk on the very best Atlan wine to celebrate my success before their next dangerous foray into Hive controlled space. The pair were hard core rebels who did what I did. We invaded Hive controlled space. We killed the Hive, and we sold the parts in Sector Zero.

  Ivy and Zenos belonged to Astra, their leader giving them an incredible ship—the Lelantos—and free rein to fight and scavenge Hive parts. Me? I didn’t belong anywhere. Trion was where I’d been raised, but I wouldn’t go back there. It was my home world, but not my home. Not anymore.

  I killed Hive. Lots and lots of them. I wasn’t a Coalition fighter, but I hated the Hive and what they did to my people. To all people. Killing them was no crime, and if I managed to make a profit while I was at it? Who would judge?

  I had no one out here. And this human female Jirghogis held captive for Cerberus? She would be far from home. Without hope. Friends. Protection.

  The thought would not stop playing in my mind.

  What would the rest of her life be like on Rogue 5 in the most hellish of legions? Where she had no chance to escape. She’d be dead within the year… or wish to be.

  “Fark.” I cursed at no one in particular as I made my way toward the center of the domed market. I had to see this human for myself. I needed to be able to sleep at night. And besides that, if Ivy ever found out I’d left an Earth Girl, as she called them, to Cerberus, she would flay me alive, and Zenos would hand her the knife.

  I hurried now, the roar of voices coming from the central section growing louder with each step. Those I passed ignored me, in a hurry themselves to see the rare treasure rumored to be on display. No doubt everyone under the dome knew of her presence.

  “Move,” I growled. I had to know.

  A large space-dock worker stood, blocking my path. The male grumbled and moved aside to allow me to pass but not before glancing down at my leg where my ion blaster was strapped to my thigh.

  “Good decision.” Shoving past him and into the gathered crowd, I saw Ulza, her height and color making her distinct.

  Pushing closer, I avoided looking up onto the platform where I knew the female stood, the response from the crowd—and the loud crack of Jirghogis’ titan stick—all I needed to hear. Ulza hadn’t been lying. The others from Cerberus hadn’t been lying. There was a human female here who everyone wanted to lay eyes upon. Me? I did not want to look at her—not yet. Instead, I surveyed the crowd for threats. Weapons. Level of interest.

  Many ogled the platform and the human female. Not many looked as if they would dare to defy Cerberus and try to take the female.

  Regardless of what this female looked like or how broken she might be, I could not allow a brute from Cerberus legion to have her. I couldn’t let Ulza take her. She was my Hive Tech buyer, and she wasn’t going to be pleased. Fark, she was going to be beyond angry. She would hunt me down for crossing her.

  Gods be damned. I was cursed. Fark. Cursed with a conscience I did not want. I should go buy my farking Spectra IV ion cannon and get out of the sector at high speed. But no. Apparently, I had not learned my lesson. But this time, it wouldn’t be my brother dying, it would me.

  Like it should have been five years ago.

  I risked looking up onto the platform, flicked my gaze past Jirghogis, and my heart stopped.

  Rich brown hair kissed with streaks of gold hung past her shoulders. She wore plain brown pants and tunic, covering her skin from my sight, but the curves beneath the snug fabric were lush and full, and I ached to trace every contour. She wore a golden collar around her neck, the site making my cock tighten with the unwelcome thought that she should be wearing my collar around her neck. It should be my golden chain disappearing beneath her clothing. I would adorn her properly and dress her in the softest silks were she mine.

  Which she was not and never would be. She was a prisoner waiting for transfer, if the manacle around her ankle was any indication. But it was her gaze that held me captive.

  Blue-green eyes stared defiantly out over the crowd. She studied the room, her stare lingering on those I considered to be the most dangerous. I wondered how she knew, where she had learned to recognize and evaluate the most deadly criminals in the room?

  She was a beauty beyond compare. The fire in her eyes forced a reluctant admiration to stir deep within me—where before there had been nothing but ash and sorrow, something new pulsed to life.

  Hunger. Curiosity. A fierce need to protect.

  Ulza moved forward, closer to the stage, and the female I was determined to save looked down her nose at her like a queen dismissing a rodent.

  The blue barbarian growled. Ulza was here to deliver the human to Cerberus.

  I discreetly did a weapons check. Ion blaster. Dagger. Second dagger. Poison powder. The urge to kill.

  I had them all. No one was going to touch that female unless it was me.

  And if she refused me?

  Well, I would escort her back to her home planet...and do my damndest to seduce her every step of the way.

  3

  Zara, Sector Zero, Planet Occeron, Omega Dome

  * * *

  I looked out over the crowd that gathered at my feet, stared beyond the stage I’d been chained to like a pagan offering to the gods, and saw nothing familiar. Nothing clean. Nothing that gave me the slightest bit of hope.

  I’d thought the desert tent planet was different, but this? This was where… Mad Max met the shady cantina in Star Wars. I felt like Princess Leia before Jabba the Hut, but instead of the gold bikini, I wore an ugly brown pair of pants and tunic that covered me from shoulders to knees. It effectively hid the line of the chain that dangled between my breasts, and the darker rose of my nipples. I was naked beneath. I’d never been modest, but I was grateful to be covered. It would appear that Bertok wasn’t selling me for sex.

  Actually, it would appear that I wasn’t being sold at all.

  A delivery, Bertok had said, handing me off to Jirghogis in trade for what I assumed was space money. What the hell I was supposed to deliver and to whom, I had no idea. But I didn’t like the looks of this place.

  I knew no one here. Hell, anyone I knew was on Earth, light years away. Besides, I was human. What everyone else in the place was, I had no idea. Some were even fucking blue, and I didn’t mean they were holding their breath. Some had horns. Some had faces covered with a strange rough fur that looked almost like porcupine needles. Others looked like walking reptiles—their eyes orange or yellow, and their pupils slit like a snake’s. When the nearest whipped a forked tongue in my direction, I choked down a scream and looked away. I would not give the slime-coated monster who had nudged me out here with the end of his pseudo-cattle prod the satisfaction of screaming.

  But no. Just no. This was not okay.

  I had no idea what planet Bertok had transported me to. Why he’d sold me to the creepy guy with slimy scales and the hideous tail or where Bertok was now. I didn’t have a clue why I was here. How I’d get off the planet. I didn’t have a weapon. Hell, I didn’t even have shoes.

  But the desire burning in my gut was pure fire.

  Bertok.

  I was going to survive this, and I was going to hunt the fucker down and string his guts across the desert sands of
Trion for vultures—did Trion have vultures?—to tear apart. He’d killed my mate. For that alone, he deserved to die. I was not a soft, shy, innocent woman. Bertok made a mistake taking me. I’d grown up poor, on the streets, scrapping with the gangs and the pimps and the drug dealers. I knew how to survive, how to fight, how to take care of my damn self.

  This place was no different. Wherever here was. I’d hoped that the Interstellar Brides Program would be different. I had actually believed I could escape my life. The system.

  Wrong, Zara. Way fucking wrong.

  I had no idea how I was going to get out of here, out of this mess, but I hadn’t survived the streets and the rough life that went with it to just give in now and be a slave.

  No fucking way.

  This place, with rowdy, drunken patrons, was a shithole full of alien criminals. It took one to know one, even in space. Scum was scum, no matter what kind of skin, fur or scales they were covered with.

  I laughed to myself. If these assholes only knew. I might be female, and I might be from Earth, and I might be tiny, but I was fucking fierce. I wasn’t to be handled carefully because I was a dainty flower. No, I had to be handled carefully because I was an atomic bomb.

  Justice. I’d get justice for Naron. For myself.

  I’d track Bertok down, slit his throat like he had Naron’s and then make my way home. It wouldn’t be the first time I had survived, despite the odds stacked against me. I’d handled and even tamed the streets when I was a teen. I would survive. Not just survive. Bertok was going to pay. For killing my mate in cold blood. For crushing the one and only dream I’d allowed myself since I was too young to remember dreaming about a different life.

  “It’s time for you to go. Cerberus is here.” The creature holding the electric stick struck it along the hard, cold floor just a few inches in front of my feet, and I jerked back instinctively, trying to distance myself from the threat. When I looked back at him, his lecherous gaze was on my chest, a thick, heavy drool the likes of which I’d never seen from anything resembling a man, dripped from his scaly lips like he was drooling over a bone. So gross. His spit smelled rotten, like burned hair and sulfur.

 

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