by Marie Dry
“Everyone volunteered,” Larz said. Even if he’d been a warrior, he wouldn’t have volunteered for a mission that would take him away from Marcie for many years. When Zacar announced the assignment, that was the only detail he gave--that the mission would span years. Maybe even decades. “But Azagor didn’t volunteer.”
“He’s not leaving his breeder. He goes and look at her all the time.”
“He should claim her.”
“What do you think this weapon do?” Zorlof asked.
Larz shrugged. “Zacar promised Natalie he wouldn’t enslave or kill her precious humans. Whatever it is, it’s complicated enough to give Azagor trouble.”
“Then it can be anything. I wish Zacar would tell us exactly what this weapon does,” Zorlof said.
Larz paused in noting down the number of throw axes signed out and signed back in. “Could be something that will level the Earth. Allow us to start over with terraforming. Like we did on Ter per Zeen.”
In as bad a shape the Earth was, it would be easier than painstakingly trying to build a working eco system again.
Zacar had requested two scientists from the home world to assist in the task of restoring Earth for Natalie.
Zorlof shuddered. “I’ll take an assignment on that planet where the rats ate pieces of Azagor, before I stay here and have to explain to Natalie that we’re going to terraform her beloved Earth.”
“Zacar is too lenient with her. He should do what is best for the empire and insist that Natalie accept it the way a good breeder should.”
“He is not a stupid warrior. He would never have peace in his dwelling if he does not keep her happy.” Zorlof shrugged. “It must run in our blood. Has Azagor said anything about the new weapons?”
“I asked him and he wouldn’t tell.” Larz inserted the clips for the pistols into the slots that would automatically recharge them.
Zorlof paused in storing grenades and turned to him with a grin that was all teeth. “Found any rats lately?”
“The last time we put a rat in Azagor’s bed, we had to do guard duty for six months.”
“And it was Natalie who insisted it be longer than three months,” Zorlof said.
“Seeing Azagor’s face was worth the extra guard duty.”
“I’m not so sure. Natalie mad at us means Zacar has it in for us.”
They worked in silence for a while. “I thought you would volunteer,” Larz told Zorlof.
“To test the weapon?”
“Yes.”
“I have other plans,” Zorlof said and turned his back to store more weapons.
Which meant he’d seen a woman he wanted to claim. That was the only reason a warrior wouldn’t volunteer for a mission.
“I need to prepare for the challenge,” Larz said. He didn’t fear pain or even dying but he did not want to bring further dishonor to his bloodline. “I want it over so I can return to my breeder.”
When she’d looked at him from the cliff he’d seen devastation on her face. He knew she wouldn’t be bothered by his loss of status. It would worry her if she knew he was punished because of her. She suspected already, and he’d have to tell her soon.
Zorlof nodded and reached up to touch his shoulder. “You show honor staying with the breeder you chose. Even if she has none, you proved that you do.”
Larz nodded and walked to his dwelling.
“I can still get you a better one,” Zorlof shouted after him. “One with a pleasing voice who doesn’t kill people.”
Without turning, Larz showed his closest blood a palm without claws.
He wanted what Zacar and Zurian had. A relationship that was strange but fulfilling. Even knowing Marcie might have been corrupted when she was too young to resist, he couldn’t stomach the thought of allowing her to birth warriors for Zyrgin.
Was it Parnell’s training that turned her cruel toward other females. Among warriors, there were such who would prey on their own kind. The leader was ruthless and killed any warrior showing such tendencies. That was why no one understood why he allowed Zurian to live. With his genetic history, the chances of him turning vicious was high. Still, there were those who managed to hide their true natures.
He went to his quarters in the warrior section. Even though he had a dwelling of his own, he also had general quarters in the mountain and on the ship. Now that he was a citizen, his was separate from the warriors. Before he brought Marcie to his dwelling, he and Zorlof went to dinner at Natalie’s house twice a week. He’d always stayed over because Natalie insisted he and Zorlof sleep in her dwelling. With Zacar shamelessly indulging her, Larz and Zorlof had no choice but to comply. Being woken by a small human that pried your eyelids apart was not a pleasant experience. It took all his will power to return Alissa to Natalie without teaching her not to enter a warrior’s quarters.
He activated the footage Zorlof had brought him. Each warrior had a style of his own and, if studied, weaknesses would be revealed. With the recordings of Zorco’s fights on the home world, maybe he stood a chance of remaining on his feet for four hours.
He had to remain standing or Marcie would be alone among Zyrgins and humans who hated her.
An hour later, he still reviewed the recordings and couldn’t find any weaknesses in the warrior’s technique. Zorco was brutal and merciless, but also disciplined. He never lost his temper, never allowed himself to be caught unawares.
“It’s time,” Zurian said behind him.
They went to the cave beyond the one where they kept their space ship. His blood quickened, his body coming alive. When he fought these challenges, he was truly alive, using his body the way it was designed to be used.
He entered the room behind the hangar. Everyone on Earth duty was there. At the back, warriors huddled around Zanr, probably placing bets. Larz walked to the middle of the circle formed by the warriors and bowed to Zorco, who dipped his head.
Zorco didn’t hold back and, by the time the four hours were up, Larz was bleeding, one of his eyes swollen shut, and he struggled to keep his balance. He was barely on his feet but he’d made the four hours without falling. He was as happy as a Zyrgin could be, his body pleasantly sore, and his breeder safe for another three months.
“Warrior and citizen, the challenge is met,” Zacar said.
Zorco came forward and bowed. “I would be honored to battle with you at my back.”
Larz nodded. He had no words. Zorco faced punishment from the leader to say such to him. No warrior ever fought with a citizen at this back. Bowing to Zorco and his leader and then the rest of the warriors present, Larz turned and walked away, aware that, as a warrior, Zorco did not have to bow to him.
Larz went to his dwelling where his breeder waited for him. She’d act concerned when he returned wounded and bleeding. Some of it was real concern, but he saw something move in her eyes, what she called the monster. That monster continually assessed him for weakness to be exploited. Mostly, she was just a human female who insulted him with her need to care for his wounds. Such a thing was unheard of, and probably why the warriors risked Zacar’s wrath to have Natalie hold them while Viglar healed their wounds. There was a forbidden pleasure in being cared for like that.
Larz walked inside and found her watching a news item about the humans amassing outside No Name Town. If not for the force field, the raiders and other humans would have left by now.
Zacar had given strict orders that anyone going into No Name Town should look human. No shuttles were allowed to depart uncloaked. They would battle those foolish humans at a time of their own choosing.
Maeve jumped up when she saw him. “Larz, what happened to you?” She gingerly touched his face and he jerked his head back.
He forgot his bruises, the daily indignity of being treated as a citizen. He wanted her and he’d have her. “Take off your clothes.”
She tried to wipe the blood off his face with her sleeve and he pushed her hands away.
She frowned. “What? Take my clothes off? We can�
��t do that now. I have to look after your wounds.”
Before she claimed amnesia, she called it sex and used some crude words Natalie didn’t tolerate. He still didn’t know if she played him for a...played him for a citizen.
“I do not need you to look after my wounds. Human, take off your clothes, now.”
“Please, Larz. I’ll do anything you want, but let me clean your wounds first.” She wrung her hands. “Who is doing this to you?”
“That is not your concern. Obey me.”
She bit her lip and then slowly, hesitantly, unbuttoned her shirt. He preferred her to wear human clothing. Seeing her revealed to him a little at a time always pleased him. If he gave her Zyrgin clothing, she’d be able to shed it in seconds.
He stepped out of his clothes and picked her up. “Don’t stop.”
She continued unbuttoning her shirt while he carried her to their room. “If you got us a comfortable couch, we could make love there.”
He frowned at her. This was the bold woman he’d found in the raider camp. Her hair had almost grown out black. Only a few red streaks remained. Her skin was darker, without freckles, but the green eyes looking up at him were the same with the same sharp gaze.
He put her down and couldn’t wait for her to finish taking off her clothes. He tore them from her and laid her down on the bed.
“Larz, I know you are a big tough warrior and you don’t feel pain, but please let me at least clean your wounds.”
For one moment he had to restrain himself, use every bit of self-control he had to keep his claws retracted. Humans had fragile bodies. He’d heard some of the warriors say they preferred a woman from the stronger races. He wouldn’t change one thing about Marcie...well, if her hair was still red, maybe that.
Making sure to keep his movements slow and to let her see the danger, he moved until he crouched over her on the bed. He leaned down and nipped the delicate skin at her throat. “Never.” He grazed her ear with his teeth, licked the blood that welled. “Ever.” He licked the delicate, almost invisible vein beside her neck that pulsed frantically. “Call me warrior.”
“Why not?” she asked, because, of course, his woman didn’t scare easily and she wouldn’t just obey him like any normal human woman would.
“You do not need a reason. You only need to obey.”
“Yeah that’s going to happen sometime this century--wait, what’s that?”
“Really big teeth,” he said against her neck.
She laughed, the way she did when he did tickling with her. Larz kissed down her neck, her shoulder, and bit the soft underside of her breast. Hard enough to leave a mark, but careful not to allow his serum to come.
“I don’t want to feel, I don’t--” She moaned and writhed beneath him and suddenly went wild. Instead of crying and begging for mercy, she kissed him wherever she could reach and tried her best to climb on top of him again.
He settled between her legs, made sure his weight kept his slippery breeder from trying to wrestle him and get on top of him. Maybe one day he would allow her to do that.
But not now. Now he had to show her that, while he might not be her warrior, she still belonged to a strong Zyrgin.
“I will pleasure you until you do not have the energy to try and climb on top of me.”
She smiled, a pure Marcie smile. “You underestimate my stamina.” She moved her body against his in a way that almost robbed him of control. “Do feel free to try your Zyrgin best to take my energy.”
Larz kissed the Marcie smile off her face and slowly entered her, holding her gaze with his, controlling her body with his. He set a slow rhythm and had barely begun before she begged him to finish.
“No more teasing, Larz, I need you to move faster,” she gasped against his lips.
He maintained his steady rhythm. He’d been taught discipline from the day he was born. He could give one little human so much pleasure that she wouldn’t even think of climbing him.
Every time he made her pulse with pleasure, made her take him again, he felt calmer, at peace with being a citizen. She moaned and writhed against him and then muttered concern for his wounds, but he didn’t care. Didn’t even feel the wounds when he held her in his arms, entered her body, and made her scream with pleasure.
***
Afterward, she lay with her head on his shoulder, her knee over his stomach. He never understood why she would lie on him after they had sex. He couldn’t see the logic behind it. And she liked to touch him, swirling her hand over his chest, trying to make sure his wounds were not severe. He had no doubt she’d face his wrath and try to contact Viglar if she thought Larz needed him. That touched him deeply.
She didn’t deserve the first knowing and she didn’t deserve many hours of sex making. Still, some part of him wanted to give her that. What she lacked in honor, she had more than made up for in courage.
“I have to be able to go outside unsupervised, Larz. I don’t want to be cooped in here with occasional invitations from Natalie my only reprieve. Seeing the stars helps, but sometimes I’m afraid the walls will smother me.”
“You are without honor and not trusted.”
She closed her eyes and a strange expression crossed her face--almost one of pain. “Please, Larz. You can put a tracker around my ankle or my throat, I don’t care. Please, just let me out in the fresh air.”
They’d tagged her when they first brought her to the mountain. He had no need to put trackers around her ankle or throat. Should he allow her freedom? She didn’t realize she was his breeder and, as such, had a lot more freedom than she would’ve otherwise. She thought the guard assigned to Natalie was the only one, but whenever she spend time with the other breeders, Zacar sent a warrior with them, who stayed cloaked. If what she called the monster took over, she’d be dead before she could harm them.
“The doors will open for an hour every day. If you are not back within an hour, I will be told.”
“How?”
He didn’t like her curiosity about their technology. Julia could safely ask questions and try and listen to their conversations. Everyone thought it irritating and invasive but endured it for the sake of Zurian. If Marcie did the same, she’d be suspected of spying.
“Superior Zyrgin technology.” He lifted her chin, tried to impress the seriousness of his words on his stubborn human. “The first time you do not return, you will be restricted to the dwelling and not allowed outside for a year.”
She shivered and clung to him. Was that an honest reaction? The woman he’d rescued from the camps would’ve killed him in his sleep. He woke a few nights ago and she’d had her hands on his head, trying to break his neck. When he asked her what she was trying to do, she’d been confused, acted as if she didn’t know what she’d been doing.
“I’ll return in time.”
He changed the settings to dark and made the ceiling transparent. Long after he thought she’d fallen asleep, she spoke. “Thank you.”
For some reason, those two words hurt him more than all the wounds on his body.
CHAPTER 11
Marcie looked up at the panoramic scene spread out as far as the eye could see. The magnificent Montana sky had remained constant throughout the centuries of over development, over population, water scarcity, poisoned mines, and a host of other disasters.
She stopped a few feet before the cliff overlooking the green valley. Yesterday, she’d known very little about Montana. Why did she suddenly have a clear understanding of the politics and history of this state? Did she know these things all those months ago when they’d first captured her?
Larz said they rescued her and she’d insisted on coming with them, instead of returning to her home. Was that the truth? She had no way of knowing if he hid some things from her.
A year--she’d been with the aliens almost a year, and it had been five months and three weeks since she lost her memory. The first months after she woke in bed with Larz, all she’d wanted was to remember who she was. Where she belonge
d. Now she feared remembering.
It had felt like a triumph when Larz said she could walk around unaccompanied, even if it was only for an hour. She looked around, at the beautiful landscape. Now it merely felt lonely.
Maeve sank down on the rocky surface of the mountain. She’d thought it was amazing that Natalie had managed to plant this many trees, but Larz said they’d planted most of it in the last seven months. All the warriors not responsible for crucial functions on their ship had been commandeered to help, and Maeve had a hard time picturing these tough warriors planting trees.
She touched a small yellow flower valiantly blooming between the rocks and grasses. She was like this flower, trying to survive among rock-hard forces out of her control.
An eagle screamed. She looked up and smiled at the bird soaring in the blue sky. Today she was as happy as she was capable of being with the return of her memory hanging over her head. She’d never get tired of seeing the sky above her, never forget to stop and enjoy the intense feeling of freedom, of being out in the open, having the heavens above her. More than the silver walls of Larz’s dwelling around her, the fear of remembering--of becoming the monster that she knew crouched in her mind--imprisoned her.
She frowned at the trees surrounding her. They all appeared fully grown. Almost like old ones. She had a vague knowledge of a few old trees gamely trying to survive in this region. They must’ve planted young trees because there simply wasn’t any older trees around to transplant, then how did they manage to grow this fast? The tree she sat next to was big. She had no knowledge of pines, but she thought it would take more than a few months for it to have grown this big.
She sneered at the tree trunk next to her. This should please Saint Natalie. Maeve thumped her head against the trunk of the tree. More and more lately, she had these strange, nasty thoughts. Some evil personality lurked in her brain, waiting to take over. Sweat beaded on her forehead. Her memory was coming back and, with it, the monster.
She turned when she heard noises from her left. About twelve warriors made up three rows, with four Zyrgins making up each row. To escape her fear of her own mind, she focused on them, turning so the tree shielded her from them, but she could still watch.
