by Liza Probz
Because his planet had such a small population comparatively, each Zantharian was able to be hands-on in the political process. Meaning that if a Zantharian disagreed with an elected official's policies, he or she could tell that official to his face with very little effort.
"You're making a mistake," a woman said, her color a bright yellow. "You're being blinded by the Earthling while our planet is defenseless!"
"Yeah, Supreme High and Mighty One!" a young male behind her shouted.
Xivthar held his face expressionless. He made sure his color remained light green to show that he was unaffected by the ruckus.
"You two," he said, pointing to the guards flanking his chamber door. "You're with us. Make a hole."
The older guard, the one who likely agreed with every angry shout of the crowd, started shoving his way through the mob, clearing a space for them to walk.
"Traitor!" someone shouted.
Xivthar wasn't sure if they were talking about him or Dr. Cohen. Neither made sense. But then, shouting, "Go mate a squid!" didn't make much sense either.
"The Earthling whore is a plant!" a male behind him yelled. It took everything inside him not to flash yellow on the bastard.
The high-pitched scream of terror tore him from his internal bantering, and he lost the ability to control his emotions.
"Let her go!" he yelled at the two Zantharian males who had taken hold of Dr. Cohen. They were dragging her backwards, one pulling on her arm, the other having taken hold of her hair.
"We're taking care of the problem," the larger one said, yanking her back until she let out an angry yelp.
Xivthar went a yellow so bright, he was surprised his target wasn't blinded. "If you don't release her, you'll have a problem that I'll take care of."
The big one laughed, elbowing his friend. "He's going to take care of us. You and what army, Supreme Shithead?"
"Just me," Xivthar said, sweeping out a leg to catch the bastard behind his knees. He fell, and his friend lost his grip on Dr. Cohen's arm. The regent threw a fist at the second man, too fast for the man to dodge. He went down, too.
The big one had taken the opportunity to put his arm around the Earthling's neck. He was squeezing, and the female’s face shaded red.
"Let her go. This is your last warning."
The bastard was no longer laughing, but he still managed a smile. "Make me."
"Please," the female said, her face moving from red to purple. "I can't breathe."
Rage broke through his anger, the power of it all-consuming. Time was running out. There was only one thing to do, something this asshole had probably intended from the beginning.
"I'm sorry," he whispered to the little professor, but her eyes had closed.
The energy charged up quickly and he aimed it at the Zantharian and released. The bolt flew into the man, causing his entire body to shake, his head hitting the hallway floor. With the asshole’s hold on Sylvie, she got a large dose of lightning as well.
She screamed, and something contracted painfully in the regent's chest.
Xivthar watched for the man's arm muscles to relax, then grabbed the Earthling from his grip. Without a pause he kicked the Zantharian in the face before he could stand.
The crowd around them had fallen silent. Without hesitation, Xivthar lifted the female into his arms and carried her down the hallway, away from the mob before it could regain its vigor.
She hadn’t opened her eyes yet and her breathing was labored at best.
"Dr. Cohen," he said, wincing at the anxiety that coated his voice. The need to protect her rolled over him in large waves. He was frantic to keep her safe and worry rose up inside of him that she might hate him for having shocked her again.
She didn't open her eyes, but her tiny voice said, "Sylvie."
"What?"
"Call me Sylvie," she said, a strange smile curving her lips.
She's out of it, he thought, then pulled her tighter to his chest. The sound of her voice left him calming fast. She was alive and still talking to him. A warmth flooded his being, something he'd never felt before. Something constricted in his gut, a curious sensation. It only made him want to hold her tighter.
"Are you hurt?" When she still didn't respond, he shook her gently.
She stirred, a grimace painting her beautiful face.
"I'm sorry," he said when she opened her eyes. "I had to get you out of there."
"So you shocked me again?"
Xivthar felt like a seahorse's ass. "It was the only thing I could think of."
Her gaze was full of fire. "Put me down."
"You could be injured," he said, knowing she wasn't but not wanting to put her down yet. She felt too good in his arms.
She fixed him with a disbelieving glare. "I'm not. So put. Me. Down."
He set her down, letting out a soft sigh. He enjoyed it better when she was dizzy and full of friendly smiles. The sensation in his gut wound even tighter as he moved back from her. He'd never felt anything like that before. It was like nervousness, but a thousand times worse. A deep anxiety coupled with something else... something that didn't want to let Sylvie out of his arms.
The regent took a deep breath, attempting to banish the feeling.
"In fact, I think I'm starting to like the shocks." She shrugged and reached up, attempting to settle down her blond curls. They had become severely disarranged after being yanked on by the Zantharian. Not to mention the bolt of electricity, which had caused her hair to stand on end. "You could say they are electrifying."
"Are you sure you're feeling okay?" He lifted a brow at her. Her tone of voice was out of the ordinary.
"Why wouldn't I be?" she asked. "I've been in a crash, on a dissection table, and mauled by shape-changing aliens. Not to mention everyone on your planet hates me. Oh, and the whole being nearly electrocuted. Twice. The only good thing that’s happened was… well… you."
"Not everyone hates you." He reached out and touched her cheek, the pretty pink coloring it due to her mentioning their sex perhaps. He licked his lips, unable to help himself. She was delicious and he would be lying if having more of her wasn’t on his mind, right behind the need to protect her.
She stopped, staring at him. "Are you blind? Did you fail to see the 'Earthlings are the Enemy' signs being waved around by the crowd?"
"I don't hate you."
Far from it. I want to work toward inter-species mating and keep you forever...
The pretty woman let out a long, frustrated breath, which caused the locks on her forehead to fly into the air and stay there. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Her shoulders slumped as she trudged down the hallway again toward the Ministry of Science.
Xivthar turned to follow her, wishing like hell that she was back in his arms. He longed to provide some kind of comfort for her. Having an entire planet of aliens you hadn't known existed crying out for your blood could be a bit overwhelming, but she was strong.
It didn't take long for her confidence to return, even as they approached the place where she'd been held prisoner and tormented.
"You know," she said, not bothering to turn to face him as she walked, "I don't understand why you want to talk to this scientist again. What can he know that he didn't already blurt out when you were threatening to feed him to the... what did you call them again... gwarsharks?"
"Gnarsharks."
A memory of Sylvie strapped to the metal table, the scientist cutting off her clothing while giggling to himself, flashed through his mind and he fought to remain calm. If I'm going to get anything out of Jark'Khal, I'll have to be methodical. No going yellow, and no violence.
Even if not punching the man would be one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do.
The tautness in his guts grew stronger. The thought of another man's hands on his female, it almost made his insides ache. He had to work extremely hard to push his ire away and answer her.
"I expect to determine whether he had any involv
ement with the Hareema. He was awfully eager to cut you up. Maybe you were the distraction the Hareema used to sneak into our ranks, or maybe he was charged with getting you out of the way. Maybe the dissection would tie up the loose end."
"That's an awful lot of maybes." She glanced over her shoulder at him.
He nodded, again making note of her intelligence. She didn't miss much and even saw things that he overlooked. It was stimulating, being in her presence. In many more ways than was appropriate.
Sylvie's expression tightened. "I think he had another reason to want to cut me up."
She shivered, and Xivthar wanted to embrace her. Any reason to have his hands on her seemed like a good reason, though it was more than the physical attraction. His stomach fluttered with the beating of butterfly wings and he moved himself from the dastardly hope that something might become of them.
Her remark brought up the memory of that bastard Jark'Khal going purple, and the regent struggled to keep his cool. Punching's too good for the eel-skinned pervert.
He glanced at the female beside him. The look on her face was pensive, the memory obviously playing through her mind as well. Her green eyes were narrow, her features tough as if she had forced herself to be tougher for the upcoming encounter.
Maybe I'll let her have him. She looks meaner than the gnarsharks.
Chapter 22
They entered the Ministry of Science, and Sylvie suppressed her gag reflex. The place made her sick, but she wouldn't let it show. It was a weakness she couldn’t afford.
Heads raised and eyes widened at their unexpected appearance. She followed X as he made his way to the scientist who had gone maroon on him yesterday.
"I want to speak to Jark'Khal."
"Yes, Supreme Regent." The scientist bowed slightly and started leading them to a familiar corridor. "He's still in a holding cell, per your orders."
Sylvie forced air into her lungs as they walked past the cell where she'd been kept. Even though she herself was a scientist, she wasn't sure if she could get over the trauma of her imprisonment and near-death experience. Maybe this corridor would always give her the creeps.
Doesn't matter. You won't be here for much longer. Odds are you'll never have to walk down this corridor again. Never have to see the inside of one of these cells again.
As long as she could convince the regent to send her home.
You know what you have to do.
Sylvie sighed inwardly. Only as a last resort. She'd try using her brains on him before surrendering her body, though their encounter earlier left her almost willing to push the issue. Never had a man taken her so passionately, her body warming at the remembrance of his mouth pressed to the center of her. She let out a soft groan as his hand grabbed hers.
X’s eyes were boring into her, his expression tense. He must have thought the groan was from fear instead of lust. He's worried about me.
She gave his hand a little squeeze, then tilted the corners of her lips into what she hoped was a reassuring smile, and politely pulled her hand out of his.
No time to become infatuated. It's Earth or bust, remember?
The scientist stopped in front of a cell and placed his hand against the membrane. A slit appeared and he held it open for X and her to pass through. The membrane sealed behind them, and Sylvie turned to confront her captor.
Jark'Khal's color was so deep a blue it reminded her of the ocean depths where little light penetrates.
Despair. That's the color of despair.
The scientist sat on the cushion that resided in the center of the cell. His head was between his hands, hanging almost into his lap. The short tendrils that almost resembled human hair were lying limp against his skull. Sylvie could almost smell the dejection in the thick air of the cell.
"Jark'Khal, I have a few questions." X's voice was filled with tension.
The former lead scientist didn't bother to lift his head. He sat there, unmoving.
"How long have you been working for the Hareema?"
This got his attention. His head whipped up, surprise written large over his dark features. "What?"
"How long? Did you go over to them of your own free will, or have you been replaced? Am I talking to a Hareema right now?"
"You can't be serious!" Jark'Khal's color was rapidly lightening, moving from blue to a red that was growing brighter as she watched.
"You better answer me," X said, as energy waves started pulsating on his muscled arms.
"I'm not an enemy agent!" the man screeched, shaking his head frantically. X still advanced on him, the energy charge he was building up growing brighter. Jark'Khal tucked his head in and huddled in the center of the cushion.
Unexpectedly, Sylvie felt a twinge of sympathy for the guy. The regent was going at him hard, without mercy.
"Wait. He's too shocked to answer you."
"I'll give him a shock." The regent's eyes were glowing, the ring around the pupil almost eclipsing the black. He had to be furious.
"You can't electrocute him, not without proof."
"This is how I get my proof." The waves of energy were increasing in speed. The light it gave off was so bright, Sylvie was fighting not to shield her eyes.
"No. He might not be working for the enemy. I wasn't, remember?"
"So...?" X trailed off, a corner of his mouth turned up cruelly.
"Initiate an energy exchange with him." She stood on tiptoe to grab his face and turn it toward hers. "Calm down."
When she thought she had his full attention, she continued. "Initiate an energy exchange, a REGULAR energy exchange and not a killer dose of electricity. Then we can at least determine whether he's a Hareema agent."
His face tightened and Sylvie thought for a moment that she had failed to convince him. Then the light began to dim and the waves slowed their rapid pace.
"Initiate energy exchange," he barked to the quivering ball on the cushion.
Jark'Khal scrambled up, holding up his arm, which quickly put out a charge. Light flashed from between clasped hands.
Jark'Khal was a Zantharian.
"He could still be working for them!" X growled.
Sylvie grabbed him around the neck and dragged him into a corner. She wanted to offer him comfort, to press peace over him and help him get back to his solid-minded self.
"What's gotten into you?" she hissed. "This isn't the way to perform an interrogation. You might as well threaten to dissect him!"
"If it would get him to talk, I would!" the regent all but snarled back.
Sylvie couldn't figure out what had gotten him so upset. He was a sickly yellow color, anger of some kind, but darkened by an emotion she didn't know. She had to take control of things, had to get him to calm down.
"X," she purred, running a hand down his cheek. "Why don't you let me try something? An old Earth tactic. We call it 'Good Cop/Bad Cop’."
The purr seemed to have caught his attention. His eyes slid down from hers, lingering for a moment on her lips, and then affixing themselves firmly to her breasts as his breathing shifted.
"I'm going to be the Good Cop. You just keep doing what you're doing, but rein it in a little. Got it?"
"I'll play along. For now." His expression turned stony again.
"Jark'Khal," Sylvie said, approaching the Zantharian as he panted on the cushion, his color candy apple red. "The regent here is a little upset. Now, I want to trust you, but you realize that it doesn't look good for you, right?"
"I don't understand," he said. "I was following orders, and I simply got a little excited."
"A little excited?" X's voice rose to a roar. "You went purple!"
Sylvie held the big man back, although he wasn't struggling very hard. He's playing along. Clever guy.
"You were just following orders." Sylvie worked to use a soothing, peaceful tone.
"Yes," the scientist said, his face eagerly repentant. "The Minister of Defense authorized the dissection. I was following his orders!"
"This is
getting us nowhere," X grumbled. "If you're not an enemy agent, tell me why you were one of the first responders to the scene of the crash? You were there at the Earthling's capture. You've been working on the recovered ship. You were in charge of dissecting the captive. All signs point to you. You! YOU!"
Whoa, talk about melodrama.
"Please!" the scientist wailed, "I was only doing my job. I've always wanted to dissect a human! To get a look at the skeleton, all those delicious vertebrae! That might make me sick, but it doesn't make me a traitor! She’s the greatest find ever."
Sylvie fought the urge to vomit. The guy wanted to check out her skeleton outside of her body. Why was she trying to save his life?
Are you any better? You're a biologist who came to this planet all set to take back samples of its life and poke and prod them in your laboratory.
Still, the thought hadn't aroused her.
"Enough!" the regent shouted. "Why haven't you gotten the ship up and running yet? Sabotage our recovery of the ship, dissect the female, and everything is all tidy."
The scientist's face was a shifting mask of emotions. Frustration. Hope. Fear. "My team has been working day and night to get that damn ship back online. It's the main computer. Something called Magnis. It keeps thwarting all of our attempts to force its activation."
"Magnis? He's still alive?" Sylvie was glad the ship's brains hadn't been totally destroyed in the crash. She knew he was only a computer, but people got very attached to their electronics. Even if he did beat her at every game stored in his memory banks.
"Yes, he's alive all right," Jark'Khal said. "He keeps denying us access. As far advanced as we are compared to you, I was sure we'd have cracked it by now. Maybe if you talked to the computer," he said, addressing Sylvie. "It might activate if it heard a familiar voice."
"That's actually a good idea," Sylvie said. She'd assumed the computer was dead, but if he was standing in the way of figuring out how her ship had taken down the shields, then it couldn't hurt to try and talk Magnis into helping out.
