The Alien's Savior

by Ella Maven

  All business, Ward nodded. “You got it, drexel.”

  The next half hour was a flurry of activity. Once the Drixonians were given an order, they followed it quickly and accurately. Before I could grab a tein bar and down a mug of qua, a line of gleaming bikes waited at the gates. Xavy stopped next me as I stood near the bikes and clapped me on the back. “I’m the best driver, so Daz said you’re with me.”

  “He did not say she’s with you because you’re the best driver,” Sax said, striding past us toward his bike. “Because I’m the best driver. She’s with you because I need all my hands free since I’m the better shot.”

  Xavy puffed out his chest. “That’s a lie.”

  “Is not.”

  “Is too.”

  Daz walked by both and smacked them on the back of the heads. “Enough. Xavy, you take Naomi because I said so.” He turned around and strode back to Xavy before sticking a finger in his face. “She gets one scratch and it’ll be your head Gar takes off. Understand?”

  Xavy’s humor fled, and he swallowed, his skin going pale. “Yes, drexel.”

  Daz flicked his gaze toward me before stomping away.

  Xavy turned to me with a pleading expression. “Please listen, Naomi. I like my head. It’s too pretty to be taken off my body.” He batted his eyelashes in a way that should have been ridiculous, but on Xavy, the handsome jerk, was attractive. “Please?”

  I smiled at him. “I promise. Tabitha would have my head if I got yours chopped off.”

  Immediately his expression changed. A flare of panic crossed his face before his expression went perfectly blank.

  “Xavy?” I asked. “Did I say something—”

  He gripped my arm, almost too tightly, and directed it toward his bike. His smile returned; the charming one he usually wore like armor. “Well, no time to waste, right? We gotta get your big grump.”

  I frowned at him, feeling a little off balance at his reaction to Tabitha’s name. But I didn’t have time to ask him about it. Maybe when we returned. He was right, now was the time to get my grump.

  It wasn’t long until we were riding through the gates in a V formation. Daz taking point with Sax and Ward flanking him. Nero, Xavy—with me on his bike—and Drak behind them.

  I looked over my shoulder to see dozens of bikes bringing up the rear, all of them with stone-faced Drixonians gripping the handlebars. I knew they were on my side, but even I felt a fissure of fear lick at my spine. I’d seen what Gar alone could do when outnumbered. This many Drixonians? Unbeatable.

  We roared through the forest, and none of them seemed concerned about keeping our presence quiet. Once we passed the Night King border, the foliage grew denser. We passed herds of antella and I even spotted a few Rizar scouts scurrying away.

  I focused on Daz’s impressive bulk and the strength of Xavy at my back. The ride took what felt like hours, and just when I could barely feel my butt and my legs were cramping, Daz lifted his hand in the air. The dull roar of the bikes lowered in decibel and I glanced behind me to see most of the group peel off.

  “Where are they going?” I yelled to Xavy over the sound of the bike.

  “They’ll be nearby in case we need them. We’ll be on foot soon so you can show us where Gar’s bike is,” he answered.

  I nodded. That made sense. We couldn’t march all these Drixonians close to the clearing without a whole lot of attention.

  Soon, Daz lifted his hand again and pointed down as he slowed his bike. We followed him—Sax, Ward, Nero, Xavy and Drak. When the bikes touched down, I stumbled off with a groan. I shook out my legs, hoping for feeling to return sometime. Xavy chuckled and slung his arm around my shoulders. “Little sore, huh?”

  “Very much,” I grumbled.

  “Naomi,” Daz called and beckoned me with quick flicks of his fingers.

  I jerked to his side and craned my neck to look up at him.

  “This area will be crawling with Uldani and Kulks. Do not leave my side.”

  “Yes, Daz.”

  He helped me orient myself by describing where we were in relation to the clearing where the bunker was located. I couldn’t imagine what it looked like now, as there would be a massive hole in the ground from Gar busting his way out.

  But we didn’t need to go there. We needed to find Gar’s bike—and then find him. I took a deep breath and scanned my surroundings. I’d skirted the clearing after leaving Gar’s bike, and while most of the area looked the same, a couple bushes stood out.

  “This way,” I said curtly and began to walk.

  Daz quickly stepped to my side, and the rest of the warriors followed. All of them had unleashed their machets, and it nearly made me piss myself. I’d rarely seen them with their bone blades on display unless they were actively fighting. They were fearsome, especially Ward who had no hair to cover his spikes. They looked wicked and deadly emerging from the top of his skull like a mohawk.

  I focused back on my task. A couple of times I had to stop and look around, but in the distance, I could see the clearing, so I knew I was on the right track. I glanced at it a couple of times and could see the disruption of the ground where chunks of dirt and rock had been flung when we’d exploded out of it. They hadn’t cleaned it up yet. Probably because they were hunting Gar. I gritted my teeth and trudged forward.

  Gar had hidden his bike near a numa patch, and I remembered thinking the bush looked like a sleeping bear. When I caught sight of it, I did a little jump in the air and surged ahead. I didn’t get far. A strong hand clamped around my wrist and I turned to find Daz glaring at me.

  “Sorry,” I said softly. “I got excited.” I pointed. “It’s right over there, hiding behind those leaves by the trunk with the groove in it.”

  Daz’s head went up, and he signaled to the warriors behind him. In seconds, the tree was surrounded, the leaves torn away, and Gar’s bike revealed.

  Ward sucked in a breath, his head lowered, as he ran his hand reverently over the seat. Nero went right to work, flipping open a small panel on the side of the bike’s body. He pressed a button which flashed red. He fiddled with Gar’s comm, muttering to himself. The button on the bike switched to a bright green, and a smile spread across Nero’s face. “Got him.”

  “Is he alive?” Ward asked, lurching to Nero’s side.

  Nero’s smile faded. “I don’t…that’s not what this does. It just locates his body.”

  A distressed squeak rose up my throat, and I clapped my hand over my mouth a second after it left my lips. Nero jerked his head to me. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it like that. He’s alive. I’m sure of it.” He frowned at the comm. “He’s…moving. Wait a minute, he’s here.”

  “What?” Ward growled, clearly frustrated.

  Nero scratched his chin. “This doesn’t make sense. It says he’s here, right on top of us. Unless he’s…”

  “Below us,” Ward answered, his gaze drifting to the clearing.

  It hit me then. Gar hadn’t just led the Uldani away from me. He had gone right to the belly of the beast. Which meant…

  “No!” I shouted, and without a thought, not caring about Daz’s threats or the consequences, I took off running. I had to get to Gar before he blew himself to bits. I still had so much to tell him, so much I wanted to do.

  Except I didn’t get far. Because a rumble from below caused me to stumble. Like a geyser, an explosion erupted from the gaping hole of the bunker in the clearing, spewing dirt, smoke, and ash.

  The force of it knocked me off my feet, and my body flew through the air before I landed with a hard thud on my back. Footsteps sounded behind me, but I ignored them, because all I could focus on were the flames licking at the edges of the hole.

  Only one thing could have detonated that explosion. “Gar!” I screamed, crawling forward on trembling hands because my legs couldn’t seem to work. “Gar!”

  Fifteen

  Naomi

  Hands grabbed at me, and I batted them away. “He’s down there!�
� I shouted with a snarl. “We have to get to him!”

  “Naomi, we have to go,” Ward growled in my ear as he hauled me up by my armpits. I flailed, but he was strong as an ox. “The ground is going to cave in. We can’t stay here.”

  “I don’t care!” I kicked and swung my fists in the air. “Then I’ll get down there to see him faster!” This couldn’t be it. He’d told me what Fatas had planned for him, but I’d refused to believe it. “Fuck you, Fatas!” I screeched. “Fuck. You!”

  Ward hauled me away, and I dug my heels in the ground even though it did no good. I went limp, the fight leaving me as despair settled into the marrow of my bones. Mesmerized, I stared at the flames bubbling up from the entry hatch that had been blown back in the explosion. We had just reached the end of the clearing when I swore I saw something. A shape in the flames.

  Ward’s grip had loosened when I stopped fighting, and that was the only way I was able to wrench myself from his grip and hurtle my body back across the clearing.

  The shape moved, shifting, and then appeared from the flames, a blue-black smoking outline of a massive Drixonian. I ran harder, and Ward shouted from behind me. They’d reach me in no time, and I didn’t care. The shape lifted his head, and I caught sight of two pitch-black eyes and a broken horn just as he took two stumbling steps forward and collapsed. Fear and relief tugged at my heart as the organ beat against my rib cage.

  When I reached his side, I went down on a hip like I was sliding into home base. I tried to touch him, and his skin sizzled beneath my hands. “Gar,” I choked out. “Oh my God. Oh no.”

  His eyes blinked open, pain swimming in the depths until he focused on me. The smallest smile curved his scarred lips. “Couldn’t break … promise. To you.”

  “Stop,” I sobbed. “Don’t talk.” His skin was mottled with burns, his scales melting in various places. His left arm, where he’d hidden the device under his skin, was sliced open, the edges blackened. He was so damaged. So very damaged, and I swore I could feel the echoing pain in my own body.

  “Protect. Return.” He murmured. “Down there … realized … I couldn’t leave you. Had to come back. Even if only for a moment.” He swallowed, and a pin drop of violet brightened his pain-filled eyes. “I’m sorry … failed. Tell Mave … about me.”

  I reached for him, every inch of my heart cracking into a million pieces, when arms closed around me and hauled me in the air. I shrieked like a wildcat, but the arms didn’t let me go. “We have to move before this whole clearing caves in,” Xavy grunted as he hauled me away from Gar.

  Daz bent and with a mighty groan, hauled Gar over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. His muscles bulging with the effort, he turned on his booted heels just as the ground beneath us began to shake. “Run!” he hollered.

  I stopped fighting, dread crashing over me like a wave as the hole in the clearing began to widen. Dirt plumed in the air as the ground fell to the cavern below. Now, my scream was of pure terror. Xavy ran with me facing backward under his arm. Daz was right behind us, straining under the massive weight of Gar’s limp body.

  The collapse gained ground faster than we were running. Daz’s heels sank into loose dirt, and just as Xavy dove into the forest at the edge of the clearing—onto secure ground—Daz wobbled on the edge. His eyes went wide, he pinwheeled his free hand, and then plummeted.

  Xavy rolled as he dove, so he hit the ground first, cushioning my fall. I immediately scrambled to my feet and lunged toward the edge, joining Ward who was already there peering down into the dark depths.

  “Daz!” He called, and his voice held a hint of panic I had never heard from any of the Drixonians.

  “Daz!” Sax cupped his hands around his mouth, eyes wide, his breaths coming in gulps so fast I thought he was going to pass out. He knelt at the edge, hands curling around the dirt as he frantically squinted below.

  My entire chest was so tight, I couldn’t breathe. My head spun, and my eyes watered from a mix of debris and grief. “No, no, no,” I murmured. “They have to be okay. They have to be.” I inhaled sharply, feeling a stab of pain in my ribs. “Daz! Gar!”

  Something shifted to the right of us. A root that stuck out about two feet below the edge of the collapse swayed and then snapped taut. Sax lunged for it, and just as the cloud of dirt began to dissipate, a great horned head appeared out of the darkness. Daz blinked up at us, one hand gripping the end of the root, the other clasping Gar to his shoulder. He was filthy, covered in a fine layer of green dust. His lips peeled back, revealing dirty fangs.

  “Oh my God,” I slumped to my side, barely able to hold myself up anymore as tremors wracked my muscles. “How did he...?”

  Xavy’s hand rested on my shoulder. “That’s why he’s our drexel.” His voice was reverent, and I understood down in my bones what that reverence meant and how Daz had surely earned it one hundred times over in the long Drixonian lifespan.

  There’d never been a time I hadn’t respected Daz, but as I watched Ward and Sax pull him to safety with Gar still secure on his shoulder, I came to the conclusion I had no idea what respect really meant. Not until now. Not until I saw a bruised and bleeding Daz lay Gar on the stable ground before falling to his back at his side, great chest heaving as he panted and coughed out mouthfuls of dirt. “I would prefer never to do that ever flecking again.”

  I slid on my knees to Gar’s side. He was breathing, but it was shallow. I tried to feel his pulse, but his scales were thick, and I couldn’t find a vein. Suddenly, Nero appeared with two vials of medis. He handed one to Sax, who immediately plunged it into Daz’s worst wound along his side. The other, Nero uncapped and slammed into Gar’s chest. Right over his heart.

  I gasped at the violence of it but knew that was the only thing that could bring him back. The medis moved swiftly through his body, and some melted scales reformed under the power of the medicine. But Gar still didn’t move, and his color had taken on a grayish pallor.

  I knelt over his body and cupped his face in my hands, pressing our foreheads together. “Please be okay,” I whispered. “Please. I need you. Mave needs you.”

  With a groan, Daz rolled onto his side before stumbling to his feet. “We need to move. We’re not in any shape to handle an ambush right now. Ward, strap Gar to his bike and tow it.”

  Ward, his face creased in concern, gestured to Xavy. They picked up Gar—one at his head and the other at his feet—and lumbered toward his bike. Daz swayed slightly on his feet, but he seemed to be breathing better and wincing less.

  Overcome with emotion, I lunged at Daz and threw my arms around his waist. He took a step back from the force of my hug. His big hand patted me on the back, warm and comforting.

  “Thank you,” I sniffled against his dirty side. “I don’t know how you did it, but you refused to let go of Gar. You pulled him to safety, so he at least has a fighting chance to recover.”

  Daz’s hand squeezed my shoulder. “We never leave a warrior behind.”

  “You’re a good leader, Daz,” I said. “Just wait until I tell Frankie about your heroics. You’ll be getting laid double even with her pregnant belly.”

  “Getting laid?” he queried.

  “Sex, big guy.”

  His lips quirked up. “I look forward to your retelling.”

  Releasing Daz from my hug, I began to walk toward Gar. I finally felt all the aches and pains in my body and winced at pain in my wrists. They must have borne the brunt of my fall during the explosion. I rubbed them, and when the pain intensified, I glanced down.

  With a gasp, I stared while two black lines, as if drawn by an invisible hand, circled the pale skin of my wrists. I staggered as my head spun, and it suddenly felt like I had a fifty-pound weight sitting on my skull. “What—?” I mumbled as an alarmed Nero raced to my side, catching me just as I was about to tip over.

  “Daz,” I heard him say, but his voice sounded like it was underwater.

  “Hurts,” I whined. And then I felt it—him. A column of flames
in my mind that seared me from the inside out. And through the smoke and ash, I heard five syllables like a brand on my soul—cora-eternal.

  Gar

  Fire. It licked at me from all sides, white-hot and angry. I pushed through the pain and reached out, seeking an exit. I had to get away. This wasn’t the end. I knew now.

  Fatas had showed me I’d find my end in the flames. I thought I had, until through the inferno Naomi’s figure appeared, running toward me with her hair trailing behind her in a brown wave. And she’d called for me. She’d said my name. The conflagration had been my rebirth. Not my end. Naomi was my destiny.

  I had to move. Wake up. She was there, I could feel her in my mind, the waters of her aura turbulent and in pain. Was she hurt? Had my fire hurt her?

  “Little one,” I murmured, my eyes still glued together. I couldn’t seem to open them. I tossed my body, and I felt hands on me just as I fell through the air only to hit a hard surface with a thud.

  “Little one!” I called louder through my smoke-damaged voice. “Naomi!”

  Everything burned, but my wrists hurt the worst, so much I gave up my crawling for a moment to cradle them against my stomach. Hands touched me again, but this time they were different. Smaller. Softer. “Little one,” I murmured.

  “Gar.” Her voice sounded in my ears and in my head like an echo. “Don’t try to get up. You’re hurt.”

  “Are you okay?” I gritted out.

  A sob reached my ears. “I’m fine. Gar, we’re… Our loks appeared. You’re my mate.”

  I pried my eyes open even though the action felt like someone was stabbing me in the eyeballs. My vision was blurred, and I could just barely make out her face. I held up my wrist as the burning had lessened to a barely there ache. My wrists now glowed with golden tattoos in a the shapes of spiky flames. I groped blindly for her hand and held it up to mine. We matched. But that didn’t make sense. “But I … already killed the one who shed your blood. In my cell.”