Coletti Warlords: Vexing Voss

by Gail Koger

  A year ago, I had hacked Central Command’s records, trying to get information on the traitors, and had stumbled upon a report on Malik. He’s a monster. Not only had he betrayed his own people, he had kidnapped and tortured his brother, Talree, in an attempt to turn him into a feral monster. My cousin, Kaylee’s, timely intervention had saved him from that fate.

  Malik’s master plan was to rule the galaxy. To achieve that goal, he would capture as many Coletti warriors as he could get his hands on and turn them into an army of bloodthirsty, mindless killing machines. Once he had these ferals under control, the psychotic creep would sic them on his people. If he defeated his father, Zarek, no one would be safe. Earth would again become a feeding ground for Tai-Kok and Rodan raiders.

  No way would I let that happen. If Malik thought ferals were vicious, he had never met an Earth woman with PMS. I made Attila the Hun look like a pussycat.

  Grabbing hold of Voss’s mind, I shouted, “Wake up! Are you really gonna let that bastard win? You’re the Battle Commander, the universe’s bogeyman. C’mon, wake up! You can’t become Malik’s attack dog!”

  His faint whisper sounded in my head. “Summon Jaylan.”

  The low mechanical whine of an aircraft filled the air. I glanced up. A black bullet-shaped shuttle craft zoomed over the rows of long metal chicken houses and feed silos.

  My radar screamed a warning. Eight Tai-Kok raiders were inside. I mentally scanned the ship. So were Malik, Voss, and that rat-bastard Degan.

  I might be able to take out the Tai-Kok, but the minute I dropped my shields, Malik and Degan would be all over me. Could I beat them in a fight? Probably not, but I might be able to slow them down a bit.

  I tapped politely at Jaylan’s mind.

  He snarled, “Go back to the base, female.”

  “But… I need—”

  Jaylan rudely severed our link.

  I pounded on his mind. “Listen, you jerk—”

  “We are at battle status, and I don’t have time for your petty concerns.”

  Petty concerns? Was he serious? “Okay, fine, I just thought you might want to know Degan is a traitor, and you should check your ships for explosive devices or sabotage,” I snapped and severed the link. Testosterone turned men into thick-skulled morons. Who needed them?

  The shuttle landed in the Latin King’s visitor’s parking lot. I grabbed my binoculars and gasped. Two tall, hairless, skeletal humanoids with mouths full of sharp metal teeth dragged Voss from the craft. The Tai-Kok’s bloodred battle suits were covered with metal spikes.

  Wrapped in chains, Voss sagged limply between his captors, and his face was a battered mess. A black rage filled me. They were going to pay for every bruise.

  Horror twisted my stomach. Unfreakin’-believable. I had only known Voss for a little over a day, and I knew without a doubt I would kill for him. How scary was that? What if the mating bond turned me into a submissive bimbo? Nah, never gonna happen.

  My attention focused on Malik as he stepped out wearing a flaming red battle suit loaded down with so many medals it made me wonder if he suffered from little-dick syndrome.

  Ick. Malik had definitely been hit by the ugly truck. The traitor’s blunt features had a brutal quality to them. A nasty knife scar disfigured the right side of his face.

  El Jefe, a tall, handsome Hispanic man in his forties, hurried out of the main entrance and said something to Malik that didn’t make him happy. He snapped a command at the Tai-Kok, and they hauled the Battle Commander inside.

  I needed to create a really big diversion. If I could get the idiots to think they were under attack, it might give Voss time to make his move.

  Where was a miracle when you needed one? I could really use a couple dozen Coletti warriors, but that prick Jaylan was too busy to listen to me. That brought up another interesting question. Why hadn’t Voss or Jaylan sensed Malik? Maybe it was a Siren thing.

  A bright blue semitruck with LATIN KING’S FAMILY FARM plastered on the side pulled to a stop in front of me. The driver’s door swung open, and a big pot-bellied man climbed down.

  Yahoo! My miracle had arrived. Who needed the cavalry? I waved at him all friendly like.

  The driver walked up to my battered truck. “You need some help, kid?”

  “I sure do.” I slid into the driver’s mind. “I need to borrow your truck for a bit, and I want you to wait here.”

  He nodded obediently.

  I felt a bit guilty. The semi was obviously his pride and joy. Not a speck of dirt marred the glossy finish. I adjusted the seat and looked over the controls. Boy, was I grateful Mom had insisted on me learning how to drive a semi when we had to evacuate wounded civilians from the North African refugee compound.

  Jaylan hammered on my shields. “How did you know about the bombs?”

  “Gee, could it be because I’m a Siren? Now if you’re done with your petty questions, I’m going to battle status.” Revving the engine on my “borrowed” semitruck, I popped the clutch and drove it straight at the big metal gate blocking the entrance.

  “Battle status? You found the traitors?”

  “Yep, and Malik and his goons too.” Rolling the window down, I grabbed a bunch of grenades from my bag of tricks and placed them in my lap.

  “You cannot engage Malik in battle.” There was a touch of horror in Jaylan’s voice.

  “That bastard’s got Voss, so I think I can.”

  “I will not allow it.”

  “How are you gonna stop me, Skippy?”

  With an aggravated growl, Jaylan demanded, “What is your plan?”

  “I’m gonna blow stuff up.”

  “Creating a diversion should work to our advantage.”

  “Ya think?”

  The semi was doing sixty when it hit the gates, flinging them like Frisbees into the surrounding cornfields. “Yippee-ki-yay, motherfuckers!” I had always wanted a reason to say that.

  The gears ground loudly as I fought to shift into first gear and steer at the same time. I cut the wheel to the right. The trailer swerved wildly and clipped a huge water fountain at the entrance to the parking lot. A geyser of water shot high into the air.

  I slammed on the brakes. The tires squealed loudly as the truck skidded to a stop by the shuttle craft. I hurled a grenade inside the open door and quickly chucked a bunch more at the collection of high-dollar cars in the lot, and floored it.

  Boom!

  Boom!

  Boom!

  Kaboom! In the side mirror, I watched the shuttle disintegrate into a massive fireball, sending rocketing pieces of metal in every direction. “Yippee-ki-yay!”

  Kablooey! The cars went up like the Fourth of July. Chunks of flaming metal rained down on the men bursting out of the office with Uzis.

  I tossed a couple of grenades at a gigantic clucking plastic chicken on display by the front doors. The goons took one look at the grenades and ran for their lives.

  Boom! The first blast shook the chicken, and it crowed like it had just laid a king- size egg. Bak-bak. Bak-bak. Bak-bak. Bak-bak.

  Boom! With an ear-shattering baaakkk the chicken crashed down, catching several thugs under its enormous plastic wings.

  Bullets riddled the semitruck. I flinched as I took a hit to my left shoulder. That was gonna leave a nasty bruise. My Askole armor was definitely worth every dime the general had paid for it.

  Now came the fun part. Dropping my shields, I took over a Tai-Kok’s mind and commanded, “Kill Malik and Degan.” I jumped out of his head as he fired and hit Malik with every ounce of power I had.

  Malik returned the favor, and stars exploded in my vision. Everything went black for a few seconds.

  Voss’s enraged roar echoed around my aching skull. “Zoey!”

  The world snapped backed into focus. Oh my God! I yanked on the steering wheel, but it was too late. With a teeth-rattling crash, the truck barreled through the side of a large metal henhouse and slammed into a section of cages, knocking them over.


  The semi shuddered and died. Steam spewed from the hood. Dozens of broken conveyor belts dumped feed, eggs, and chicken poop on the concrete floor.

  Thousands of frightened chickens flew about wildly, and their squawking was deafening. A blizzard of feathers filled the air, making it hard to see.

  The Battle Commander demanded, “Are you injured?”

  I shook my head to clear it, and a number of bruises immediately made themselves known. “I’m good. Did you get free?”

  “Yes.” The cold fury in his voice made me shudder. “You ever engage Malik in battle again, I will personally lock you up with the breeders until you learn the proper obedience.”

  “I was saving your ungrateful ass.”

  “He could have killed you.”

  “Well, he didn’t.”

  “Only because Malik realized his attacker was female and a Siren. Now he hunts you.”

  “But…I’m already mated to you.”

  “He will use you as a breeder.”

  Didn’t that sound like fun?

  My radar screamed a warning, and I ducked down. Bullets shattered the windshield. “Could we finish this little pep talk later? I kinda stirred up a hornet’s nest.”

  “Indeed.” Voss’s battle cry sounded, and two thugs flew by the truck and hit the wall with a loud splat.

  Okeydokey, the big guy was in a bit of a snit. Shit, who was I kidding? It was more like a towering rage. It was probably a good idea to get the hell out of Dodge and let him cool down some. Lock me up with the breeders, my ass.

  Throwing open the driver’s door I scrambled from the truck and yelped in surprise when someone grabbed me around the waist.

  “Gotcha!” a male voice crowed.

  I rammed my elbow into his nose, and there was a satisfying crunching noise.

  “Fucking A, you broke my nose!” the guy cried.

  I twisted around and gave him a stiff-fingered shot to the throat.

  The tattooed thug made a funny gasping sound and fell backward, pulling me down with him.

  We landed hard on a crate. I slipped out of his grip and dropped to the floor.

  The thug jumped on my back, smashing me into the egg-covered cement.

  Grabbing a freaked-out chicken, I whacked the thug in the face with it. “Cock-a-doodle-doo, asshole.”

  Baaakkk! The chicken went psycho and began pecking the living shit out of the goon. He shrieked like a little girl.

  I scrabbled backward, desperately trying to get to my feet, but several thousand eggs had turned the henhouse floor into a slippery, gooey mess.

  “I’m gonna fucking kill you!” the thug screamed, lunging for me with the chicken riding his head.

  “Not today.” My steel-toed boot slammed into his face. His head snapped back, and he toppled over, out cold.

  The chicken kept on pecking him.

  “You go, girl.” Slipping and sliding on the broken eggs, I grabbed hold of the cages and pulled myself upright.

  The Battle Commander was fighting four Tai-Kok warriors at the same time with his hands still cuffed in front of him, and doing some serious damage. Color me impressed.

  Using the cages as a ladder, I climbed up to the catwalk for a better view. Should I shoot the Tai-Kok, or let Voss work out all that aggression? He seemed to be enjoying himself.

  Fire ants danced across my mind. A sneaky Tai-Kok slithered around the cages and pointed his weapon at Voss.

  A cold rage rolling over me, I pulled my Glock and shot him in the third eye.

  Voss broke one warrior’s neck, head-butted another, and delivered a spinning side kick to the third, knocking him into the fourth Tai-Kok.

  “I need your knife,” Voss said.

  I pulled it and hurled it at him.

  He snatched the knife midair, stabbed two warriors in the eye, and slit the other one’s throat.

  The big bad warlord had killed all of them in less than thirty seconds. He made Batman look like a wuss.

  A loud clank caught my attention.

  A visibly frightened El Jefe climbed out of a metal hatch set in the floor and ran for an open bay door.

  Oh hell no. That murdering asshole wasn’t getting away. I sprinted down the catwalk after him, batting frenzied fowl out of my way. Grabbing a pulley chain, I swung off the catwalk doing a great imitation of Tarzan, and dropped on El Jefe.

  The breath oofed out of El Jefe as my hundred-and-twenty-pound body knocked him flat.

  Straddling his back, I grabbed a handful of hair and pounded his head against the asphalt. “You murdered my mother, and for what? So you could make a few bucks off of feeding your own people to those monsters? You’re a dead man. Do you hear me?”

  His muscles bunched beneath me, and to my utter surprise, El Jefe reared up like some rodeo bronco, twisting, turning, and doing everything he could to throw me off his back. “Perra estupida.”

  “I may be a bitch, but stupid I’m not.” Wrapping my legs around his waist, I put him in a chokehold and squeezed with all my might. Around and around and around we went.

  Voss stepped out of the chicken house, and an eyebrow rose in disbelief. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m trying to choke him out, but it’s harder than I thought. I mean, it always looked easy on television.”

  The Battle Commander rubbed a hand over his battered face, and I got the impression he was trying not to laugh. I felt his mind lash out.

  El Jefe suddenly collapsed to the ground in a boneless heap.

  “Thanks, but I could have taken him,” I groused, wiggling out from under him.

  “Eventually. Why didn’t you use your mind control on him?”

  I shrugged. “I wanted to beat him to a bloody pulp.”

  “Understandable, but your fighting skills are not sufficient for the task.”

  “Are too.” I looked over at the still-burning cars, shuttle, and melted plastic chicken. “And I’m pretty good at blowing shit up.”

  A smile tugging at his mouth, Voss tilted my face up and gently kissed me. “Very good.”

  The sensation of enormous power rippled around us.

  A few seconds later, Jaylan teleported in with twenty heavily armed Coletti warriors.

  “About time you got here, Skippy.”

  Jaylan bared his fangs. “You failed to provide me with coordinates.”

  “And you failed to listen to me.”

  Voss fixed a glare on us that would send most men fleeing in terror. “Enough.”

  With a slight bow, Jaylan quickly said, “My apologies, Battle Commander.”

  “Wuss,” I muttered under my breath.

  “You will show my men the proper respect,” Voss snarled in my head.

  “Yes, my lord,” I replied in my timid-mouse voice, knowing it would drive him nuts.

  “Mind your tongue, or you will spend a month at the breeder’s compound.”

  One look at the menace glittering in his eyes, and I almost peed my pants. “Yes, sir. Would you like me to pick the lock on your handcuffs?”

  “Yes.” Voss held out his cuffed hands.

  Pulling a lock pick from a pouch on my belt, I quickly freed him and resisted the urge to smack Jaylan upside the head with the shackles.

  “A useful talent,” Voss said and turned Jaylan. “Report.”

  Jaylan tapped his left bracelet, and a three-dimensional image of a warbird appeared. “Degan had planted three bombs. Here, here, and here.”

  While Voss scrolled through several dozen images, I studied the muscle-bound warriors gathered around him. They could be described in three words: big, fierce, and deadly. They made me feel like Tinker Bell.

  El Jefe groaned and tried to sit up.

  Pulling my Taser, I kicked him over and zapped his nuts. He let out a bloodcurdling shriek and convulsed violently. I let him have it again, watching in satisfaction as he thrashed around and moaned.

  “Zoey,” Voss barked and yanked the Taser from my hand. “You can torture him after I have c
aptured Malik.”

  My evil twin spat, “Another promise?”

  The Battle Commander purred menacingly, “You doubt me?”

  “Time will tell.”

  The warriors’ jaws dropped in amazement.

  Jaylan stared at me with the eerie unblinking stare of a predator. “Do you have a death wish, female?”

  “If that’s what it takes to find the traitors, then yes, I’m willing to die. Are you?”

  A big hand clamped around back of my neck, and Voss snapped, “Another word, and you will spend the next two months at the breeder’s compound.”

  “Yes, sir. Zipping it, sir.” We couldn’t make the big guy look bad in front of his men, now could we?

  “Rho, take the prisoner to the ship and lock him up,” Voss ordered.

  Rho, a badly scarred warrior, tossed the still-moaning El Jefe over his shoulder and teleported.

  The Battle Commander asked Jaylan, “What have the scanners picked up?”

  An image of the chicken farm appeared in midair, and Jaylan pointed to a road. “Several humans were seen fleeing the area and have been detained. A power generator was detected here.”

  My face started itching like crazy. I really needed to wash the egg off before I broke out in hives. There had to be a water hose around here someplace. I noticed a hose under a scrawny mesquite tree, and I started for it.

  Voss grabbed my braid and yanked me back. “I did not give you permission to leave my side.”

  My temper flared to life. Permission? Whoop-de-fucking-do. Like I was a two-year-old? I had been taking care of myself for a very long time, and no one told me what I could or couldn’t do. I made my own decisions. I—

  The Battle Commander tightened his grip on my braid and jerked my head back. “Zoey.”

  One look at Voss’s implacable gaze, and I sighed. Living with a mind-reading alpha male was going to be so much fun. Not.

  I pointed to the hose. “I’m allergic to eggs, and I need to wash off.”

  “Wulf, Lothel, go with her.”

  Their eyes full of animosity, both warriors clamped their right fists against their chests and said in unison, “As you command.”