by Ashley West
Anise mentioned it, her eyebrows waggling and eyes bright in a way they hadn't been since before Cara had disappeared. Kirstie endured her teasing for that reason alone, really. Because she missed her friend's bright, sunny personality.
"He is cute, I'll give him that," she said, curled up on the sofa with a cup of tea after a long day. Her body was sore from going through training with Kratos, and she'd had to sit through a lecture from Combo about how dangerous the weapons their enemies had were. As if they didn't know that already from watching people die. Combo was supposedly working on something that would help them deflect the blasts, at least here at the apartment building, and Kirstie was eager to see how that would go.
The point was, she was tired.
"Cute doesn't cut it," Anise said. "Huge understatement. Guy is built like a tank, Kirstie. Have you seen those muscles? They're bigger than my head."
"Now you're exaggerating," Kirstie laughed.
"Not by much. He's huge and gorgeous, and I'm sure he likes you."
She could feel herself blushing. It would be easier if she could just shake her head and refute that. Tell Anise that there was no way someone like Kratos liked someone like her. Except...except there were little moments like when they were on the roof together and he laughed at something she said, when she wondered if maybe...
The thing was that Kratos was so complimentary. He was always praising her for a job well done or telling her that she was on the right track with something. Even when he had to correct her after she'd done something wrong, he did it gently, telling her she was close and then guiding her into the right movement.
Honestly, she didn't know what to make of it.
Whenever Keith saw the two of them together, he got that look on his face. The narrow eyed glare like he was an over protective father, and she was a teenage girl who had a boyfriend with piercings and a motorcycle. Kratos seemed to find it funny, and once he'd even gone so far as to drape his arm around Kirstie while Keith looked on, seemingly just to rile her brother up.
Kratos touched her all the time, working on her stance or holding his hand up so she could throw a punch into it, but the casual touch was something different, and Kirstie had felt herself blushing for nearly an hour after Kratos had removed his arm with a laugh.
All in all, things were odd and oddly normal and mostly peaceful, and Kirstie adapted to it well enough, she thought.
But of course, peace could only last for so long, and it didn't take long for The Grey to figure out that something different was going on.
Little attacks farther away from them were continually reported, but it wasn't anything worth mobilizing for without a plan, as Combo always said. That was a good way to get good people killed. So the waiting continued for a while, at least until a major attack was launched not ten miles away from the building.
Something had gotten blown up, that much was for sure, and they felt the ground shake from the force of the blast.
Kratos looked up from where he had been cleaning his sword while Kirstie watched, a frown on his usually smiling face. "Something's happening," he said.
"What was your first clue?" Milara asked, stepping into view. She had twin swords strapped to her back, and she looked ready for battle.
"From the West," Combo said as he glided in. All four of them had been at the building that afternoon, which was convenient. "Sanaal. Get the others. Milara, Kratos. You're the front line."
Milara smiled, and it was a feral thing. Something that had Kirstie shivering with admiration and fear for the fierce woman. Kratos got to his feet, and with a sword in his hand, his full height seemed even more impressive.
"Sitting around is all well and good," he said, smiling as well. "But it's time to work."
"If you can keep up," Milara said with a smirk.
"Oh, don't worry about me. I'll be the guy with the sword ahead of you."
Milara just rolled her eyes.
Kirstie caught Kratos' arm as he moved to leave, and she bit her lip, knowing she was about to sound like some kind of idiot. "Be careful," she murmured.
His smile softened as he looked down at her, and it made her heart skip a beat. "I'm always careful."
Chapter Eleven: The First Fight
Okay, so in hindsight, bragging about how careful he was had probably not been the best idea. He didn’t believe in that whole, cosmic balance in the universe thing, or in jinxes, but maybe he could have been more careful. Maybe.
The thing was this was the first time he’d ever fought The Grey before. The pirates were more infamous than The Kilan, and while his group cared about making money, The Grey dealt in destruction.
And they were less than pleased that The Kilan were on what they considered to be their territory.
"Be careful," Combo had warned as well. "They aren't going to take to this kindly. This is the land they've staked out for themselves for whatever reason, and they aren't going to be pleased."
Kratos rolled his eyes. "Really, Combo? And here I was thinking they were going to invite us over to their fleet for a drink. And speaking of, can we find out what they want here sooner rather than later?"
Combo just sighed and didn't respond, which was how Kratos knew that not knowing what was going on with The Grey being on Earth in the first place was starting to wear on his nerves. Well, good. That meant he'd work harder and they would figure this out quicker. Ideally before someone got their head sliced off.
"Less talking," Sanaal said as he hefted his axe. "More fighting."
"I agree with Sanaal," Milara said as she slid into view.
"Surprise, surprise," Kratos muttered under his breath. "Alright, let's go."
It had been a while since they'd fought in formation. Their underlings spread out behind them as they moved in force, not hiding or waiting. That wasn't how they did things.
Combo coordinated their movements, and they went forth, ready to have this over with.
Something like joy bubbled in Kratos, even though he supposed he should have been being more cautious. This was what he was made for. Whatever people said about him having potential or being better than just some merc, this was what he wanted to do. Fighting was fun when you were good at it, it was a thrill, and he was very good at it.
They came upon their opponents. A cluster of hooded and cloaked figures in different shapes and sizes, about seven in all. They weren't destroying anything for the moment, but that was probably because the smoking crater they were standing in the middle of didn't leave a lot of room for more destruction.
Combo clicked his tongue in disapproval, and Kratos tried hard not to think about whatever that crater might have been an hour ago. Hopefully no people had been in it.
Sanaal swore under his breath, and Kratos knew he was thinking the same thing. Weapons were drawn, and then Combo moved forward, ready to engage them. With words, of course, because Combo never took the front lines if he could help it.
"You aren't welcome here," he said, voice neutral and almost bored sounding. "Why have you come?"
"As if it'd be that easy," Sanaal muttered.
Milara shrugged. "Worth a shot at least."
Kratos was uncharacteristically silent, just watching the exchange.
One of the hooded creatures took a step forward and hissed something in a language none of them understood.
None of them but Combo, of course, who merely pursed his lips and then stepped back.
"What's the verdict?" Kratos asked.
"They aren't telling us anything," he said. "And a few unflattering things about our parentage and Milara in general. Because she's female."
That was enough to have Milara up in arms, and she glowered at the group of them, the sound of metal sliding on metal as she unsheathed her weapons. "Combo, I'm ready to end this," she said through her teeth.
"Oh, then by all means," Combo replied, falling further back. "Don't let me stop you."
And that was as good as a command to attack.
Th
e four of them had been fighting together for long enough that they understood how the others moved and knew where they would go before they went there. For instance Kratos always knew that Milara was going to go low. She took advantage of her lack of height and went for the knees, cutting her enemies off with twin blades before they even saw it coming. Sanaal was like a person shaped battering ram, and he just barreled through, swinging his axe and trying to catch as many bad guys in the wake of it as he could.
Kratos was more versatile. He went where he was needed, basically. While Sanaal and Milara did their thing, he circled the perimeter, keeping anyone from escaping and making sure no one tried to get the better of his partners.
It was a good system, and it was a shame that it didn't work here.
No sooner had they all charged forward than the creature who had spoken to Combo was pulling out a blaster and firing off several shots, causing them to scatter.
"Avoid those!" Kratos shouted to the underlings. No one needed their skin melted off or to be blasted to pieces, both of which were possible with that kind of blast. "Take them out before they can shoot!"
"Who died and made you leader?" Milara quipped as she ran past him, sliding lower and slashing with her swords. She succeeded in ripping through the cloak one of them was wearing, but they didn't so much as falter. Milara swore explosively.
The Grey were outnumbered in this battle, but somehow they still held the advantage. They were still the ones who were an unknown as far as Kratos was concerned, and that made it much harder to know how to deal with them. His patented stab first, stab again, and then maybe throw a question out there technique should have been well suited for this, but the cursed things were fast.
They darted this way and that, scattering from their formation and trying to dodge every attack that was thrown at them. The smaller ones were nearly impossible to catch, and the larger ones were made of stronger stuff than he'd been expecting. When he managed to swing his sword and catch one of them in the middle, it blocked it with just a swing of his arm.
"What the..." Kratos murmured and then had to jump back and away when a smaller blaster was swung up and towards his face.
Milara swore again, and Kratos turned his head to see that she was bleeding from a gash on her arm.
"Don't worry about it," she hissed at him. "Watch yourself."
He turned back around just in time to see one of the little ones leaping towards him, silvery claws sticking out of the sleeves of his get up, sharp and aimed directly at his face.
Now it was Kratos' turn to swear, and instead of leaping out of the way, he lifted his sword, letting the creature's momentum drive it right onto the blade.
He smirked as the tip of his sword emerged out the other side. "So kind of you to save me the trouble," he said and then made a disgusted face as black blood dribbled out of the dark hole in the hood where a face was supposed to be. Combo would study the bodies of these creature later, so Kratos didn't feel compelled to look at it as he got it off his sword.
One down, six to go.
"You're an idiot," Milara said for the tenth time as they made their way back to the ship.
Kratos gritted his teeth, one arm wrapped around his middle as he practically hobbled along the path. It hurt to breathe too deeply, and he just wanted to know what these things were made out of, because he'd been head-butted a number of times, and never had it felt like his ribs were cracking from the force of it. Aside from that he had a collection of bruises and scrapes and a few burns from close calls with those blasted blasters, and he just wanted a painkiller and to grind one of those Grey things under his heel.
"Thank you, Milara," he said, exhaling slowly. "That's helpful. Just like the last ten times you said it. So helpful."
She shrugged, but she helped him up the stairs when they reached the ship.
Their medic, a small woman who was even smaller than Milara took one look at him and then ushered him to the infirmary to have his wounds looked at. Combo, having already scraped some skin from his burns and done a scan of his body with one of his ever present sensors allowed it to happen. He had work to do, of course, and he murmured something about going back to the apartment building to let Kirsten and the others know they were still alive as he glided out of the room.
Kratos sighed heavily and then immediately regretted it.
Pain aside, he was in fair spirits. They'd won their first battle with The Grey. It was a small thing, but it proved that they could be killed, and more than that, that they could be killed by them. They'd only lost two of their own people, and now that they had some idea of what their opponents were capable of, things could only get easier from here.
He laid in the bed in the infirmary and let Jima work on him, cleaning and bandaging him up, the high of victory keeping him smiling.
Chapter Twelve: Feeling
Milara regarded her with an amused expression from the door of the ship, and Kirstie felt oddly like she should flee. Okay, it wasn’t that odd because Milara was terrifying when she wanted to be, and it seemed like she always wanted to be. At least where Kirsten was concerned. She didn’t know if it was because the other woman didn’t trust her or because she just hadn’t earned her respect yet, but even her amused look seemed like something she should be wary of.
“I should’ve known you’d turn up,” Milara said, arms folded. “Kratos can’t take a leak these days without you being somewhere nearby.”
Kirstie blushed furiously. That was a gross overstatement of the facts. “Combo said he’d been hurt,” she replied, not mentioning how she’d practically begged him for information before he’d given it to her.
“And so he has,” Milara said. “Because he’s a reckless idiot who doesn’t listen. But he killed three members of The Grey before they managed to get him on the ground, so it’s a good day.”
“But he’s hurt.” How could that be considered good in any way, shape, or form?
Milara rolled her eyes. “It comes with the territory, girl. You’re the reason he’s fighting them in the first place.”
Apparently done with her and the conversation, she turned on her heel and walked off, leaving Kirstie to try and figure out where she needed to go on her own. Before recently, she would have been more afraid of being out here alone at night. But there was something about Kratos’ lessons that had made her braver of late. And when she’d found out that Kratos had been hurt, she’d come running.
As Milara had pointed out, she was the reason he had to fight.
A tall, thin woman with horns on her head was standing staring at her, and Kirstie fought the urge to shrink away. She’d gotten used to the more human looking aliens like Kratos and Milara, and even Combo’s odd appearance was becoming a common sight now. But it was still strange whenever she saw someone who actually really reminded her that these people weren’t human.
“Um,” Kirstie said, licking her lips and summoning that courage she was just thinking about. “Could you help me?”
The woman cocked her head to one side, and Kirstie wondered if maybe she didn’t speak English. Finally she smiled and nodded. “You want Kratos.”
Kirstie’s eyes went wide, and she spluttered. “I...what?”
“You want...Kratos? To see?” She gestured towards the back and what Kirstie could only assume was the infirmary.
“Oh,” she said, cheeks flushed. God, she was pathetic. “Yes. I’d like to see him. Can you show me?”
The woman nodded again and motioned for her to follow.
She was led to a spacious room in the back. The walls were painted a soft green, and there was plenty of light. It wasn’t that harsh fluorescence that you got with human hospitals that always reminded her of either sickness or school, but softer, edging everything in a gentle gilding of light. There were four beds on either side of the room, and Kratos was stretched out on one of them, eyes closed.
It was the most still she’d seen him since they’d met, and her heart lodged in her throat.
<
br /> The woman patted her on the shoulder and then took her leave, and there didn’t seem to be anyone else in the room.
Other than bandages and the fact that he seemed to be a few shades paler than usual, Kratos looked fine. He was shirtless (which made Kirstie swallow hard), bandages wrapped around his abdomen and over one shoulder. More were wrapped around his forearm all the way up to his elbow, and there was a square of gauze over his forehead. His breathing was steady and deep, and Kirstie wondered if he was sleeping.
“See something you like?”
Well, that answered that question.
One brown eye cracked open to look at her, and she swallowed hard. “Are you alright?” she asked, nearly sidestepping the question. To say no would have been lying, but to say yes...she wasn’t sure she was ready for that just yet. Something had been building between them since he’d been teaching her to defend herself, something soft and fond and definitely more than friendly, but neither of them had acknowledged it yet.
It was there, though. It was there in the way her stomach flipped over when he touched her, adjusting her hand grip on whatever weapon they were working with that day or making sure her stance was correct. It was there when he smiled at her or when his laugh echoed around them, sweeping her up along in his seemingly perpetual good humor. It was definitely there when he told her she’d done a good job, the praise slipping easily from his lips to wrap around her like a blanket.
Kratos hadn’t said anything about it, but she was pretty sure he was at the very least aware of it, though she couldn’t be sure how he felt.
Now he was smiling at her, that warm smile that was fond and teasing all at the same time. “I’m fine,” he said. “Did Combo make it sound like I was dying or something? He’s always so melodramatic.”
Kirstie cracked a smile because that couldn’t have been further from the truth. “No,” she said. “He just mentioned you’d been hurt. Actually, he made it sound like it was nothing, but this doesn’t look like nothing.” She gestured to his body.
