by Mina Carter
A small smile curved his lips at the thought of the stubborn, beautiful little human woman. Well, little next to him anyway…she was the tallest amongst the earth women he’d seen so far.
“So, have you seen my cousin, or not?” he demanded, glaring down at the Kalaxian bartender on the other side of the counter.
Small, overweight, and universally bald, there was no way of knowing whether the creature was male or female. Even other Kalaxians had trouble working that out.
Whatever gender it was, there were two constants about Kalaxians. Thanks to a near religious knowledge of alcoholic drinks they were usually employed as bartenders, and they loved to gossip. A perfect combination. If anyone wanted to know anything, all they had to do was head to the nearest bar and hit up a purple-skin for information.
“Your cousin, you say?”
This particular purple-skin was shrewd, beady little eyes far too perceptive as they wandered over him, lingering over his chest and trailing down his abdomen to his groin. Draanth, he hoped this one wasn’t female. They weren’t particular about the species of their sexual partners if they were in heat or much concerned with consent. Just breathing the same air could be considered a yes.
“Cousin. Twice removed.” His kept his voice firm, altering his posture to loom a little. “Took off in a flyer a week ago. It was an expensive bit of kit, we’d like it back. Him as well, if he hasn’t managed to kill himself.”
“Well…” The bartender edged forward, a primary hand swiping a dirty cloth over the counter at the same time one of the secondary arms just beneath shoved a proto-paw out in an unspoken demand. “There may been some warriors through here recently. But they looked more J’nuut than K’Vass. You are K’Vass, aren’t you?”
Karryl narrowed his eyes. Like any warrior on a hush-hush mission, he’d been careful to remove all identifying markers from his leathers before he’d left. The braids in his hair marked him as a senior warrior, but the fact that the Kalaxian identified his family affiliation so easily rang alarm bells. Unlike most of his clan, Karryl didn’t bear the traditional K’Vass features.
“I could be, depends on who wants to know.” He changed tactics, relaxing his body language to lean on the bar and press a credit chip into the creature's paw. His lips curved into a small smile designed to charm and beguile. “Why do you ask?”
The creature’s purple skin flushed yellow, not a pleasant combination, and the fluttering of its eyelashes confirmed his suspicions that it was female. Great, he could charm the pants off a four armed purple-skinned blob, but not the woman who sat safely in his shuttle.
His life sucked.
The Kalaxian pulled a glass from under the bar, filled it with something from one of the taps that looked more like black sludge than anything remotely palatable.
“Certain friends have asked to be informed of your arrival,” she said, her voice low as she tapped the front of the glass with a horn-like fingernail.
He flicked a glance down. The black sludge had turned the simple glass into a highly reflective surface. One good enough for him to spot the three dark figures sneaking up from behind.
Draanth. Hand closing around the glass, he turned and threw it at the nearest of his opponents. A glimpse of scales and a hiss as the man ducked, the black sludge cascading over his hooded head and shoulders told Karryl they were Krynassis mercs. Crap, lizard men were pricey and there were three on his tail, which meant someone out there really didn’t want anyone asking questions.
The other two rushed him at the same time, their mouths wide to reveal vicious fangs. Dropping to the ground, he swept a hard leg out to drop one and shoved the bar stool into the path of the other. The first went down hard, rolling away just as Karryl stamped hard where his face had been a moment before.
He didn’t waste time, spinning around and bringing his guard up just in time to stop a scaly fist slamming into the side of his head. Twisting his wrist, he grabbed the lizard man's hand, trapping him with his arm extended. A practiced flick dropped a blade into his hand and he sliced at the guy’s rib cage.
The krynassis grunted. Wet heat cascading over Karryl’s hand told him his blade had struck true. Snarling, he planted a booted foot in the center of the creature’s chest and kicked him away. The merc went down, sliding in his own blood to curl up under the nearest table.
One down, two to… The door banged again and three more lizards stalked through, their yellow gaze fixed on him.
Just fucking great. More lizard men to the party. And they ran in packs, so if there were a few, there were definitely more around. He pulled his blaster and pulled the trigger. Nothing. Just a flat ppphsttt. Shit, they had a mobile suppression field.
“Oh, so this is how it is?” He backed up, making sure they couldn’t get behind him. With a pack, he couldn’t hope to hold them off indefinitely. Which meant this was going to hurt. A lot. “Okay, who wants to dance first? I warn you, I don’t intend to make this easy.”
“Good.” The nearest added a hiss to the end of the word. “We prefer the prey fights back. And it’s been a long time since any of us tasted Lathar blood.”
Karryl curled his lips back, showing his teeth. “Come and get it then, if you think you’re tough enough.”
Hisses filled the bar, the rest of the patrons having wisely cleared out, and the five mercenaries rushed him at once. Within seconds, he was fighting for his life. His existence narrowed down to each kick and slash, to the physical exertion required to block each punch thrown his way.
His senses expanded, hyper-alert to every movement from the men around him. He didn’t bother with any of the flourishes or showing off that he might have done against a lesser enemy, or back in the court to impress the woman he yearned to claim as his own.
Jane, the thought filled his head as he fought and he bellowed in rage. If he fell here, she would be alone, on an alien outpost. That was not happening.
One jumped on his back, fangs perilously close to his neck and he fell backward, landing heavily on it. There was a crunch and a scream, but the move left him on his back, his belly exposed to the others. A hard, scaly arm wrapped around his neck. He struggled like a wild deearin, trying to get loose, but they fell on him as a pack. There were more than five now, way more than five.
Fists slammed into his unprotected abdomen, no claws yet, but that would come. It was just a matter of time.
Then one was ripped away from him. Its grunt of surprise changed to a scream of pain as bone crunched and the smell of lizard blood blossomed into the air. He took advantage of the lizards’ momentary distraction to heave them all off and flip to his feet. Slamming his fist into the side of a scaled skull, he cast a glance to the side to check who his unexpected savior could be. He hadn’t seen anyone on his way here who looked like they would be an ally. A few might consider the Lathar owing them a favor worth the risk of tangling with a pack of Krynassis though.
It wasn’t a mercenary. Instead, another Latharian warrior, fully armored, fought beside him with a level of skill that took Karryl’s breath away. Lithe and fast, he was too small to be an adult. He could only be a youth, not yet attained his full growth. As he watched, the boy took on two of the krynassis at once, combining punches and kicks in a manner he’d never seen before but lethally effective. One lizard ran at him from behind and Karryl opened his mouth to shout a warning. It wasn’t needed.
The youth flicked a glance over his shoulder, and with a hard right hook to the jaw of the one in front of him, he dropped to his knees to slam a foot backward. There was a crunch as the mercenary’s knee went the wrong way. He fell and the young warrior followed him, grabbing an arm as he went. With a roll and tuck, he wrapped his legs around the lizard man’s torso, holding his arms out of the way. Gloved hands gripped the creature’s skull and without a moment’s pause, he wrenched it sharply, snapping the neck. Shoving the body away, he rolled back to his feet again, facing off against another opponent.
Young he might be, but he
was a true warrior.
The fight took Karryl’s attention again, and he put his back to the younger warrior, confident they could take on any number of krynassis that turned up. With a bellow, he dodged and weaved, looking for gaps in their defence and hitting hard. Ribs, noses, joints…they all cracked beneath his fists. Grunts of pain and the occasional scream filled the air, all from the lizard men. Eventually, the few who were left backed off, then ran for the door, scrambling over each other to get away from the two lathar.
They both stood for a moment, breathing heavily. Leaning forward, Karryl rested his hands on his thighs to ease his bruised abdomen. Looking up, he nodded to his new companion.
“Well met, friend. My thanks for your assistance. Without it, the outcome here would not have been as good.”
Carefully, he avoided mention of his ship and the fact he had a female companion. Most Lathar knew of the existence of the human race now, and that they had women. As young a male as this one appeared to be, Karryl didn’t fancy ending up in a challenge fight with him. Even though he wore body armor, honor dictated the enhancement levels were set to minimal, so he’d be just as lethal out of it.
Straightening, he offered his arm, palm up, for a warrior’s handclasp.
The youth didn’t move. His faceplate completely concealed his expression but for a moment Karryl could have sworn he was surprised. Perhaps not a stretch of the imagination. If he was not yet a warrior and this was his proving mission, he wouldn’t have expected to be treated as a full-fledged warrior.
“For your assistance, I’ll happily vouch for your first warrior’s braid.” Karryl smiled, hand still out.
His smile remained in place as the kid bent his head and lifted his hands to remove the helmet. He waited for a look at the youth’s face. Most Lathar clans bore a distinct family resemblance and fought in similar styles, but he couldn’t identify the style this one had used. So which clan had he come from? Certainly not one of the bigger ones. Perhaps a back-system clan? Instantly, he dismissed the thought. The armor looked to be top of the range, a type Karryl had never seen before. But then, the K’Vass preferred not to use armor at all…
His hair was blond, nearly white and cropped short. Karryl frowned. There weren’t many light-haired Lathar and a warrior in training should have long hair, not shor—
The breath hissed out of his lungs as his companion lifted her head.
“Jane.”
Surprise held him captive for a moment, as he tried to make his brain absorb everything. The lethal young warrior he’d mentally been congratulating a moment ago was a female. His female.
His female had just taken on a horde of Krynassis mercenaries and kicked their asses.
“What the fuck did you think you were doing, woman? You could have been killed!” Her mouth dropped open in shock as he grabbed her helmet and jammed it back on her head. “Put that back on, before someone sees you.”
Fury and fear rolled through him in equal amounts. She shouldn’t be here. Not out in the open like this. If other races knew there was a human out here, female or not, there would be a bloodbath. They’d band together, kill him, and sell her on the auction block to the highest bidder. Fuck, there was a Krin on board… that fucker would bankrupt its entire pod for a new species to “sample.”
His body shook with suppressed rage and the fear of what could have happened. Hand hard on her arm, he frog marched her from the bar and through the crowded promenade.
“What the fuck, Karryl!” she hissed, trying to get free but he didn’t let go. If anything, his grip tightened.
The crowds scattered before them, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was getting her back to the ship. To make sure she was safe. The need to protect her, even though she’d shown herself more than capable, was like the need to breathe. He didn’t have a choice.
“Let me go, you idiot!” She didn’t give up, struggling all the way back to the docking ring and the corridor outside their airlock. “I saved your life!”
“By putting yourself in danger,” he snarled, shoving her through the airlock door as soon as it opened. They’d barely cleared the first door than the second was already opening, so he pushed her through that as well.
She stumbled into the main cabin, tearing the helmet from her head as soon as the door was shut to glare at him. If looks could kill, he’d be colder than stone.
“What the hell are you playing at? Is this the thanks I get for saving your life?”
“At the risk to your own!” Now they were alone, he didn’t bother to regulate his tone.
His bellow made her wince but not back down. Anger flared in her eyes.
“Risk? What risk? I can take care of myself!”
“Really?”
He stilled, all the heat of his anger draining into something else. Something far more dangerous. For her. Taking a step forward, he crowded her against the wall. Deliberately invaded her space to threaten her. His lip curled back a little.
“Prove it, little female.”
Without giving her further warning, he attacked. Her gasp of surprise was audible, but she got a block up in time, stopping his blow to her ribs just in time. She was armored, so he didn’t bother pulling his punches. The exo-suit would take the brunt of the blows.
The fight was fast and furious, ranging through the tiny cabin and around the extended bed. She was quick, blocking his blows with a speed and strength that surprised him. Some of it was the suit, but not all. He’d always known she was a good soldier, lethal with a rifle, but she was also formidable in hand-to-hand combat.
Even with the suit to help her, he was bigger, faster, stronger, and better. He pressed his advantage ruthlessly, blocking each try she made to get away from him and out of the corner he’d penned her into. The only advantage he let her have was that he couldn’t bring himself to hit her in the face. Just the areas he knew would be shielded by the armor.
She fought silently, her expression a blank mask even though he knew some of his blows had to hurt. That she shielded her pain made him proud; that he’d been the one to cause it made him ashamed.
He’d never lifted a hand to a female in his life…
He spotted the opening before it happened, reading the movement of her body to gauge the exact moment she dropped her guard a little on the left and struck. The solid blow to her solar plexus made her reel back, her face suddenly pale and tight with pain. Not giving her chance to recover, he moved in, wrapping up her arms and falling backward with her onto the extended bed.
Within a heartbeat, he’d twisted and had her pinned beneath him. Hissing, she tried to buck him off, but her struggles were weaker than a day old deearin. She tried to punch him so he captured her hands, pinning one above her head and the other against her body.
“Ready to give in?” he asked softly, riding out her bucking and thrashing until she quietened. Her gaze latched onto his, both colors cold and jewel-like.
“Lesson delivered and assimilated.” Her voice was clipped, angry. “Thank you for the life re-adjustment.”
Her anger didn’t put him off. Rather it clashed with his own and fed it, then fed an entirely different type of rage. He shouldn’t, he knew he shouldn’t, but the urge to taste her again consumed him. Dipping his head, his mouth crashed down on hers in a hard kiss fueled by the fear and rage that coursed through his blood.
He expected her to stiffen. Expected her to freeze him out and lie stiff beneath him, but she didn’t. Instead, she kissed him back, meeting his anger with a fury of her own. Matched him, challenged him, and when he paused, nipped his lower lip.
Lust shot through him. His gasp was lost beneath their kiss as he moved. Sliding one leg between both of hers, he tore at the breastplate of the armor, desperate to get it off her and feel her soft curves beneath. How he could have thought her a male he had no idea. His cock certainly knew the difference. It was as stiff as a support strut and throbbed against the constraint of his leathers.
The straps retrac
ted and she raised her shoulders, toned stomach crunched to allow him to lift the armor clear. He discarded it on the floor, the lower section following a moment later. Passion shrouded his vision and his common sense. It didn’t matter to him that she wouldn’t accept his claim, he had to touch her, had to taste her and prove to himself that she was safe. Protected in his arm. His.
Her hands moved over his chest. Reaching up, he yanked the zipper free, desperate to feel her caress. The knowledge that she found him attractive… that she wanted to touch him made him swell all the more.
Despite all his instincts roaring at him to push her back and take her, make her accept his claim, he held still to let her explore. His brain blanked, short-circuited by the movement of her lips beneath his, the passion as she stroked her tongue against his. He’d expected her to fight, and to put him off as she had so many times before.
She wasn’t saying no anymore.
He gasped as she slid her hand under his leathers to cup him boldly.
Shit, she really wasn’t saying no anymore.
“You like that, huh?” she broke away to whisper against his lips and he nodded. The hunter had become the prey. He wasn’t sure how she’d turned the tables on him so easily, but he wasn’t going to argue. His entire existence narrowed to the two of them on the bed, and her hand on his cock. She stroked him with feather light touches, then firmer ones, both designed to drive him crazy.
“Yeah,” he admitted throatily. “I like that.”
He held the dominant position, braced on his hands as she lay in the cage of his arms, but she was in charge. No doubt about that at all. And he was a willing participant in his own submission. Her lips whispered over his. Kissing him lightly, almost innocently, her hand carrying out more carnal deeds. Blood surged, heat cascading through his veins until his body shook with the effort to keep still. Then he’d had enough. Sliding one arm under her neck and the other around her waist, he rolled until she was on top of him.
