by Luna Hunter
“Hey, it’s a heap of junk, but it’ll get you where you need to go in a jiffy. Built it myself.”
Tyr’s autumn-colored eyes study the craft. “It certainly looks hand-built,” he smirks. “It will be a tight fit.”
Mark nods. “It wasn’t built for a man your size, that’s for sure.”
“Will we fit though?” I ask.
The corners of Mark’s mouth pull up. “That depends how well you can sit on Tyr’s lap.”
Very well, thank you very much.
“I’ll manage,” I answer.
Karen walks outside with a basket filled with fresh fruits and vegetables. She forces me to take it, even though I try to refuse. “Here you are, hun. You’ll need to eat! I put in plenty of tomatoes for your friend,” she says with a wink.
A hug and a kiss later and I’m squeezing my way onto Tyr’s lap. Mark’s ship is shaped like a dart, and he sits in the cockpit, while we have to struggle to fit into the chair placed behind him.
Karen and Emma wave at us as the rickety ship takes off with a blast.
The entire vessel vibrates, and I think I hear every bolt shake. I pray the ship holds, because it feels like it will fall apart at every moment. I close my eyes and try to relax, focusing my thoughts elsewhere.
Tyr slides his arms around my waist, his large hands resting on my belly. I run my fingers across the back of his hands, tracing small circles. Despite the danger we’re heading straight into, I feel safe.
With Tyr by my side, I can take on the world.
6
Tyr
“Are you ready?”
I run my finger across the blade of my sword. Still sharp, still ready. This is the moment. We’re seconds away from breaking into Central News’s Headquarters. It’s a plan so bold, it just might work.
Offense is the best defense.
A full-frontal assault on Jenkins’s office is the last thing he’ll be expecting. Mark dropped us off on the roof of the building, and now we’re standing outside an emergency exit that will bring us straight into the heart of Central News. Kaitlyn knows this building like the back of her hand. We’re about to get to the bottom of this, and find out who killed my men and smeared our names – or die trying.
She takes a deep breath to find her center. When she opens her chestnut-colored eyes, I see they’re filled with determination.
“Ready,” she says.
I grip my sword a bit tighter, my knuckles turning white. I’ve headed into battle more times than I can count, but for the first time, I’m worried. Death is always around the corner for a warrior, but now, for the first time in my life, I’ve got a reason to live.
And she’s standing right next to me.
I slam my shoulder into the emergency-exit, and the door flies right off its hinges. Earth security measures are no match for my Zoran strength.
I rush inside, Kaitlyn sticking right behind me, her hand resting on my back. I’ve told her to touch me at all times, so I know exactly where she is. We head down stairways and through corridors until we enter a circular room, filled with display screens on all sides, and dozens of people at work, typing, calling, video-chatting. The newsroom. It explodes in panic when everyone realizes there’s a sword-wielding Zoran General standing in their midst.
“There,” Kaitlyn says, pointing ahead.
Jenkins’s office.
Two armed guards stand in front of his door, and they look up in surprise as I charge them. Before they can even reach for their weapons my blade fells them.
Kaitlyn opens the door and we slip inside, locking it behind us.
Philip Jenkins stares at us from behind his mahogany desk, his gaunt face as white as a sheet.
“Y-you,” he stammers, pointing at Kaitlyn. “Y-you’re su-supposed to be—”
“Dead?” Kaitlyn says. “Sorry to disappoint, Phil.”
She walks around his desk and pushes his wheeled chair away, taking charge of his computer. Her fingers and eyes move at lightning speed as she works her way through his files.
“What are you doing?” Jenkins says. “St-stop that!”
“Jackpot,” Kaitlyn says. The corners of her mouth pull up in a victorious smile.
The frail man tries to stand up, but I swiftly place the edge of my blade at his throat.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Now, start talking.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, putting his hands up in the air.
“Oh really? This begs to differ,” Kaitlyn says. She taps a button and the bright light of a holo-video fills the room.
In the video, the unpalatable form of Senator Gorgi strides into this very office, flanked by two skeevy looking, suit-clad man. The sight alone makes my blood boil, and I have to fight the urge to strike Jenkins down right there and then.
Every moment Gorgi walks free is a failure on my part.
“Philip,” Gorgi says, his voice as smooth as snakeskin. “I assume everything is in order?”
“Yes,” Jenkins says. “It’s all been taken care of. We’ll get rid of my nosy reporter, and your pursuer in one step. Two flies, one stone.”
“Excellent,” Gorgi says. “Excellent.”
Kaitlyn turns the feed off, her eyes burning with fire. If looks could kill, Kaitlyn’s boss would be long gone.
“Thanks for the proof incriminating yourself in this terrorist plot, boss,” Kaitlyn says. “Why even film yourself like that?”
“Insurance,” Jenkins spat. “In case Gorgi weaseled on his deal.”
“What deal?”
Jenkins glared at us.
“What is your exit strategy, geniuses? Noticed how my office is surrounded by guards? You’ve walked into your own death.”
I glance behind me, and he wasn’t wrong. There were countless armed guards standing outside, their guns pointed straight at us.
No matter.
I press my blade more firmly into Jenkin’s throat, drawing a single drop of blood.
“Perhaps, but if you want to walk out of here alive, I’d start talking,” I growl. “You don’t want Kaitlyn to get impatient, trust me.”
“Or what?” He says.
Kaitlyn takes a step forward and slaps her boss right in his face.
“That’s the first of many,” she says. “Now tell me about your ‘deal’, or, or… I’ll throw you out the damn window.”
Jenkins rubs his red cheek. “You wouldn’t dare,” he says, but his voice lacks conviction.
Kaitlyn raises her eyebrows, and she grabs a firm hold of his office chair.
“St-stop,” Jenkins suddenly cries. “I’ll talk! Please!”
I smirk as I watch Kaitlyn expertly interrogate our suspect. She’s bold and daring, and she’d fit right in with my squad, and that’s not something I ever thought I’d ever say about a human.
“Okay, I’m only going to ask this once. How do you know Gorgi, and what is your deal?”
“I met Gorgi two months ago, he was introduced to me by… Bennet Davenport.”
Kaitlyn gasps, and I cast her an inquisitive glance.
“His father is the Federation’s president,” she explains. “He’s one of the major shareholders of Central News. His family pretty much runs the Federation.”
“Let me guess, Gorgi promised this boy his father’s place if he helps him?” I say.
Jenkin nods, spitting on the floor. “Seems like it, yeah. They told me to keep the missing shipments of the Archer Cure out of the media, and he’ll promote me when he’s in charge. Your insistence on sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, along with this fake-tan looking asshole showing up, threw a wrench in that plan.”
“Is it worth it?” Kaitlyn asks. “Killing countless innocent people? And for what? A slightly bigger mansion? An extra hover-car or two?”
“You don’t understand,” Jenkins says. “It’s not like I had a choice. Bennet is not the kind of guy you say no to.”
The door bursts open, and a sharply-d
ressed man steps into the room. The jet-black suit he’s wearing is tailored perfectly, and the ostentatious gold watch on his wrist shows he’s just a tad bit insecure. A lock of black hair hangs in front of his face.
His eyes are as dark as the night, and betray no hint of emotion.
He’s holding a silver gun in his hand, the piece hanging by his side.
“Not another step,” I growl. “Or Jenkins dies.”
Unimpressed, the man raises his gun, pointing the barrel straight at Philip Jenkins.
“Bennet, plea—”
BANG.
Jenkin’s lifeless figure crumples forward, falling unceremoniously on the floor. Bennet Davenport aims his gun at Kaitlyn next.
“Thanks for delivering her right to me,” he says, his accent betraying his affluent background.
Shit.
I charge for Kaitlyn, my arms spread wide, dropping my sword on the floor.
The gun goes off with another bang, and I feel the bullet ricochet off my outstretched arm.
I tackle Kaitlyn, and we burst through the glass window, free-falling into the depths below. The wind whips us from every side, shards of glass surrounding us, while I hold Kaitlyn tightly in my arms.
The ground below approaches quickly.
Come on, Mark.
Pull through.
With a thunderous roar of his engine Mark makes his presence known. His ship catches us in mid-air, and not a moment too late. With a heavy thud I land in the open seat, Kaitlyn still firmly in my arms. The entire ship protests and groans as he pulls up, saving us from certain death.
I look back to see the silhouette of Bennet Davenport stare at us from the broken window. This wasn’t going to be the last he’d see of me, that’s for sure.
“What took you so long?” I roar.
Mark laughs. “Wanted to make you sweat a bit,” he yells back.
Skyscrapers whiz past us, the ship swaying from side to side as we make our getaway.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
Kaitlyn smiles up at me, her arms and legs still wrapped tightly around my frame. She nods, her entire body still shaking. I place my hand on her lower back.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“I’m not a big fan of heights,” she admits with a chuckle.
I laugh. “Why didn’t you tell me that before we planned an escape by jumping out the window?”
“Because it was the only way out,” Kaitlyn says. “And I didn’t want you to know I was scared,” she adds, her voice barely a whisper.
I can’t suppress a smile. The one moment she’s a total badass, and the next, she’ll show me her vulnerable side.
“Where’s your sword?” she asks, her eyes growing wide.
“Gone.”
Shock registers on her face. “But it belonged to your clan!”
“It’s okay. I have you. That’s more important than some sword.”
She smiles coyly at me.
“Do you have the data?”
She opens the palm of her hand, showing the data-stick to me. “All the files on Jenkins’s computer are on here. We’ve got them now.”
Yes. This crazy suicide mission paid off in full.
I press my lips firmly against hers, my hand grabbing the back of her neck. She kisses me back, her palm resting on my cheek, her lips brushing against my bottom tongue.
I growl into her mouth as she pushes down on my lap, blood rushing to my member.
I know exactly how I want to celebrate this…
“Get a room, you two,” Mark says with a chuckle.
“Your house has rooms, doesn’t it?” Kaitlyn asks with a wicked smile.
“Oh lord,” Mark sighs. “What have I gotten myself into?”
7
Kaitlyn
After our daring escape, I am in dire need of a good night’s sleep.
Among other things.
Mark was so kind to let the two of us crash at his place. I can’t thank him enough – he’s risking everything by taking us in, but he waves me away every time I try to show my gratitude.
“Make this right,” he told me. “Tell your story. Tell the truth. That’s all the thanks I need.”
It warms my heart to know that there are still good people in this world. People who haven’t been corrupted by power or money, like Philip Jenkins or Bennet Davenport.
Bennet.
His involvement surprises me most – but in hindsight, it’s so obvious.
Oldest son of Roland Davenport, head of the Davenport family, current President of the Federation. A billionaire playboy, Bennet’s more known for his speeding tickets and garish tattoos than his intellect or public service record. His exploits were fuel for the gossip columns – how had he embarrassed his influential family this time?
Despite everything, his father shielded him from consequence every single time. A few years ago, Bennet dropped out of the public eye. He shaped up, cleaned up his act – or so it appeared. Now, I find out he’s at the very heart of this conspiracy.
I didn’t think he had it in him. He’s more calculating than I ever gave him credit for.
One of the very first stories I ever penned at Central News was a fluff piece on how Bennet Davenport had broken the sound barrier with his custom, hand-made, Italian hover-car, causing quite the disturbance in a residential neighborhood. At that time, I never could have imagined him ever pointing a gun at me and pulling the trigger.
I can still barely wrap my head around it.
“Here you are.”
Mark hands me a hot cup of coca. I’m curled up on his couch as Tyr is hunched over the dinner table, studying the files I swiped off Jenkin’s computer on Mark’s com. There’s got to be more info on Gorgi, Bennet, or the missing shipments somewhere among all this data.
“Thank you,” I say. “Nice place you’ve got.”
“Not what you expected?” Mark says.
That’s an understatement. Hardwood floors, oriental rugs, hell, a fireplace? Who has those things except the wealthy? Mark’s not who I thought he was.
“I figured you lived like a stereotypical bachelor, with half your stuff still in boxes, and empty food-containers lying around,” I tease.
“You haven’t seen the upstairs yet,” Mark says with a wink.
He sits down in a chair across me.
“I guess by now you’ve figured out I’m not just a shuttle pilot.”
“I had a hunch, yeah.”
“As a reporter, you should have figured it out by now,” he says, running a hand through his dark hair.
I’m too tired to think straight – I have no idea what he’s aiming at.
“Aren’t you worried your ship has been recognized?” I say to Mark, sitting upright. “I’d hate to get you into trouble. Too many people have had to pay a price for me already.”
“None of this is your fault,” Tyr growls from across the room. “Do I have to keep repeating myself? Humans,” he says, shaking his head.
I stick out my tongue. “Focus on those files, you.”
Mark holds up his hands. “I don’t want to get in the middle of a lovers’ quarrel,” he smirks.
Lovers’ quarrel?
Is that what this is?
With all the constant action and danger I haven’t had a moment to stop and think what Tyr really means to me. If we ever make it out of this mess in once piece… I wouldn’t mind spending some more time with him.
Quiet time. No explosions, high-speed chases and shootouts, for a change.
My heart flutters as I look at Tyr. He’s standing over the table, his broad arms resting on the edges, his brow furrowed as he scans the files. His obsidian armor is scratched and dented, betraying the trouble we’ve been into. He looks much better without it on.
He looks absolutely perfect with nothing on.
You’re doing it, Kate. I told you not to fall for him! He’s a warrior, a general; a Zoran… how will this even work?
I don’t know how, but damn it, I�
�m going to make it work! One way or another. I’ve never met anyone who’s quite as kind, selfless or daring as him. Yes, he’s an alien general. A little hiccup, nothing more.
And, I admit, it doesn’t hurt that he has the looks of a bronzed god, and that he makes me see stars in the bedroom.
I see the way he looks at me, I know he cares for me – but I haven’t dared to ask him what will happen after all of this. Will he hop back on his spaceship and leave me behind? I’m too afraid to ask, but I know I have to.
Mark clears his throat, rousing me from my thoughts. “To answer your question: no, I’m not worried anyone recognized my ship. I built it myself. The only person who’s ever seen it besides you two is my brother, in fact.”
I pause for a second. “Does that mean you’ve never flown it before?”
“No comment,” Mark says.
“What?!” I sputter, causing Mark to roar with laughter.
“It did the job, did it not?”
I shake my head, muttering under my breath.
“Bingo!” Tyr yells.
Mark and I look up in surprise at him. Tyr stares back at us, an excited smile on his face.
“What? Is that not the correct human expression?”
“It’s, uhm, not wrong,” I say, barely suppressing a laugh. “What did you find?”
Tyr taps a few button, and he shows us what he’s found.
“The missing shipments. Gorgi’s trying to turn it into some kind of weapon, and I can only imagine what he wants to do with it.”
“He’s turning the Archer Cure into a weapon?! That’s disgusting,” I say. This news feels like a punch in the gut. “Why?”
“My best guess, knowing Gorgi: to let it loose on Earth, and then blame the Zorans, so he can incite a war.”
I’m stunned. Once again, the ruthlessness and sheer evilness of Senator Gorgi astounds me. To kill countless innocents, in order to plunge the whole galaxy into war…
“The good news is that I’ve also found the location of their research facility in this files, so we can put a stop to this.”
“Good,” I say. Finally, some good news. “Shouldn’t you try to contact your people and warn them?”
