by Emma Alisyn
WARRIOR’S VOW
YADESHI BRIDES #2
A
STARR HUNTRESS
EMMA ALISYN
SCIENCE FICTION ROMANCE
Copyright Emma Alisyn 2016
Cover Design www.hardcandiespublishing.com
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SNEAK PEEK
He reached out, taking her hand. Lifted her palm face up, studying the lines as if he could read her future. “I’ll help you- but this time there’s a price.”
Her skin tingled, despite sudden apprehension. “A… price? Jaron, you know I don’t have any money.”
He shook his head slowly, eyes glinting. “You’re deflecting. You know it’s not money I want.”
She opened her mouth, closed it. Damnit- if he’d been any other man, with the events of the day and his oddly intense behavior, she’d think… something she refused to think. Because even if there was hope for something more- she would be dead in a year. Two, tops.
“What do you want?” she asked, dreading the answer. Dreading having to tell a lie in order to get his help.
“A date.”
Mila blinked. “Well, that’s weird. What in the world would you do with dried fruit?”
His eyes narrowed. “Mila.”
Well, she’d had to try. Abandoning the pretense of misunderstanding, she tugged her hand. His fingers slid up her wrist, holding her fast.
“I’m not letting you go until you give me the answer I want.”
She scowled. “There’s a name for men who behave like this.”
Jaron laughed. “I don’t care about names. I care about results.”
“Fine, Jaron. You can have a date. I don’t know what you think we’re going to do with a date-”
“The usual things humans do.” He smiled, teeth sharp, voice a low, deepening croon. A promise. An uncivilized promise.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you to the Fiercely Real Readers who gave valuable time to help shape this story into a spicy, as error free as possible, read. I am so grateful for your effort and input.
B.J. DeFilippo
Tiffani Rippy
Jessie Haynes
Sayyidah Ali
1
CHAPTER ONE
Some days just sucked.
Well, if she was honest- which she always was because who had the energy to lie to the woman in the mirror- most days just sucked.
Months.
Years.
Hell… life.
The sparring pair she’d tumbled into rose from the ground, curses sprinkling the air like fairy dust. Resentment welled as she pushed to her feet, lockingher jaw from the effort even a simple move took. They were all beginners- they should expect a few… mishaps. The Third Form wasn’t exactly easy. All those waving arms and legs.
Head spinning, Mila bent, bracing her hands on her knees until her blackening vision cleared. It wasn’t especially hot outside today, but she had other issues.
“Trainee.”
Other issues included the Adekhan assigned to her training unit. He hated her guts. Or at least did a swell job of imitating someone who hated her guts.
“Clumsy as usual.”
Her lips thinned. No use explaining- anything she said would only look like whining. They knew her issues. She’d disclosed everything in her application, if he’d bothered to read it, which wasn’t likely. Only God knew why they’d approved her, but the brochure said the Yadeshi didn’t give a flying fig about health problems. Maybe the rumors about their advanced medicine weren’t rumors, but if so she hadn’t been singled out for any special treatment yet.
Well, that wasn’t quite true, but did the healing sessions with Jaron count? Yeah, she’d realized a few weeks after first meeting him- having been sent to the infirmary after passing out- that the glowytattoo thingy was reserved just for her. She still didn’t know why it was reserved just for her. It was good it was, causeMila didn’t like the idea of him taking off his shirt and pressing his chest against any woman but her.
“Trainee.”
Mila realized she was mentally babbling and grimaced, bringing her mind back to present time and the teacher standing in front of her. His methods left somewhat to be desired since even with humans, calling a student clumsy wasn’t considered the most productive teaching method.
Mila straightened when her head was clear. Adekhan Ithann stood, arms crossed over his chest, blue eyes… well… icy. Could alien blue eyes be anything but icy? Even Jaron’s eyes, so deep a blue they were nearly black, were rarely anything resembling warm. Despite months of inexplicable friendship. Despite the occasional flashes of something across his face when she caught him looking at her lately.
“Apologies,” she said.“I’ll do better.”
“I doubt if you are able to do better.”
“No such thing as a bad student- only a bad teacher.”
Mila winced as soon as the words left her mouth. That bit of disrespect would earn her an extra three laps- and her body just couldn’t take it. No choice but to take it- couldn’t afford to get kicked out.
“Mila, you okay?”
Gayle’s voice and the sound of jogging feet approaching. Her best friend skidded to a halt, the beaded tips of her long blue braids smacking Mila in the back. No health problems there- the woman was the picture of tall, athletic, Middle Tier strength. Glowing golden brown skin and snapping dark eyes, now subdued from concern. She was the only person who knew the real deal- but her mouth was sworn to stay shut.
“I’m good.”
“Girl, you don’t look good. You need to go sit down.”
Mila glared at her. “I’m good.”
Gayle rolled her eyes and looked at Ithann, expression tightening to something she would probably think imitated politeness. “Can we take a break?”
He snorted. “Take her to the medic to have the bleeding tended.”
Both women froze. Mila looked down at herself, noticing the streaks of blood on her bare knees for the first time. Triple damn.
“Oh, fuck,” Gayle said.
The Adekhan frowned. “If this is how Earth women respond to scrapes-”
Gayle snarled something in the language of her homeland. Mila kept her face straight as the Adekhan scowled at her. She knew at least a dozen curse words in that dialect. None of them benign.
Mirth faded as her nerve endings belatedly fired. Gayle grabbed her shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you to Jaron.”
“Drop her off and return right away,” Ithann called.
***
There were a handful of other students in the medic’s office. Serious injuries would be treated at the local hospital, but anything short of punctured organs or shattered bones, Jaron and his staff could handle.
“Get Jaron,” Gayle told Jaron’s medical assistant. “It’s an emergency.”
Mila dropped onto a bench, staring down at the steadily seeping wounds on her knees. Never should have left the house without her skin covered. She knew better- but she’d been so tired last night and hadn't done laundry and damned if she’d come to training in smelly gear. She might be piss poor, but she didn’t have to stink.
And the one day her skin was bare to the elements, she just had to take advantage.
The assistant, Stacia, eyed M
ila. “I don’t think-”
If Stacia had been Yadeshi, Gayle probably wouldn’t have leaned over the desk and grabbed the woman’s arm, shaking her. “Get Jaron!”
Great. But Mila didn’t have the breath to tell Gayle to calm down. Instead, she reached out mentally and gave Stacia a… nudge. When she felt the woman’s resistance fade, Mila pulled her mind back inside her skull where it belonged. Besides, too much influencing and she’d have a headache for days.
A door down the hallway opened, a tall- well, they were all tall, and blue, and pretty damn hot- Yadeshi male in their typical non training uniform of a sleeveless wrap shirt and loose trousers emerged. He wore a white lab coat over his clothing, more for the benefit of the humans since Mila gathered Yadeshi doctors wore something different on their own planet.
Jaron crossed the hall in record time, moving in that fast but not seemingly fast way they all moved. Just... ground eating strides that managed to look casual.
“What happened?” Jaron demanded, expression shading from doctor pleasant to warrior-just-waiting-for-an-excuse-to-fight-something. He scooped her up, overkill, but then Jaron rarely asked when it came to her treatment. “Stacia, log Mila.”
He ate more ground, Gayle on his heels. Mila listened to his heart beat, the pace slower than a human’s at resting rate. His cool tenor deepened to something closer to baritone with her ear on his chest. Jaron glanced at her friend as he kicked open the exam room door and set Mila on the paper covered table.
“You need to return to training, Gayle.”
Gayle crossed her arms, legs spread in a Form Mila recognized as Stubborn.
“I’ll be fine,” Mila said, lying down and closing her eyes. “Go before Ithann makes you do laps.”
“Adekhan Ithann,” Jaron corrected.
With her eyes closed she heard Gayle sigh and the door clicked shut, Jaron rummaging through drawers. A crinkle of simple paper packets.
“What happened?” he asked.
Her eyes remained closed, though her thighs tensed at the first touch of cool fingers on her bloodied knees.
“Fell training. Third Form.”
“You tripped on the Third Form?”
She would have grit her teeth from the sigh in his voice, but didn’t have the energy.
“How is your energy level today?”
“Same.”
He cleaned her knees, paused. “Mila- why isn’t your blood clotting?”
The reason why she’d panicked at the simple scrape. “It will, it’ll just take longer than normal.”
“You can’t afford longer than normal.” His tone cooled considerably. “Mila. Why is your blood not clotting?”
She sighed, opening her eyes, and sat up. A hand on her thigh kept her from swinging down from the table. Mila glared at him, though her anger didn’t even cause him to blink. In her current condition, even a child could keep her held down.
“You know I’m sick.”
“I know what you’ve told me.”
He stared her down, tension humming between them. Over the months of their friendship, she’d explained as much as she had to, and no more. He didn’t press- but he watched her like a hawk. Or a scientist, figuring out a puzzle. Usually she ignored him because the benefits of his friendship outweighed the annoyance of him constantly examining her.
“Well, I’m sicker now.”
His eyes narrowed. Mila tensed. Sometimes… she thought the calm, sardonic facade was a veneer for… something else. When they’d first met, even after the first few weeks of casual companionship, she’d figured he was like her. A bit of a loner, a bit of a geek. He wore his hair shorter than the warriors, tousled and messy around his ears, and his frame was leaner. He wasn’t nearly as abrupt and controlling as an Adekhan. But… lately it seemed the leash on his good behavior was slipping.
It was as if he’d begun to take her illness personally.
“I think you’re lying to me, Mila,” he said. Voice low, and pleasant. “I thought we had an understanding.”
She watched as he scooted towards the cabinet on his wheeled stool. He withdrew additional supplies and returned to his position- but she hadn’t moved, despite the opportunity.
“Look- there’s no reason to whine about what’s going on with me,” she said.
Jaron smiled, but it wasn’t pleasant. “I’m your primary physician. That’s how humans say it? You should whine.” Ha paused. “You asked me not to look at your medical records. Am I going to regret that indulgence?”
She hadn’t wanted to be treated like the poor, sick trainee. And later, when they’d started to become friends and he realized he needed to see her charts, she hadn’t wanted to endure his pity. Mila crossed her arms, channeling Gayle. Except she kept her mouth shut, which so wasn’t Gayle. He watched her with the focus of a snake about to strike while he tended her knees.
“This is a second skin treated with some antibiotics,” Jaron said. “It will help you clot, and speed your healing.”
“Thanks.”
He put away his supplies and she edged off the table.
“Be still.”
The chill command froze her muscles. “Look, Jaron-”
He was next to her in a second, at full height looking down, a hand resting on the table close to her hip. Nothing overtly intimidating about his posture. That was Jaron- he would consider overt to be beneath him.
“Why isn’t your blood clotting, Mila?”
Fuck. The utter reasonableness of his tone was a mask, and told her exactly what Gayle’s Form Stubborn did. He wasn’t going to let her budge until she opened her mouth.
“It’s a side effect,” she said, shoulders slumping.
His fingers thrummed on the table. “Of what, Mila?”
“You know, this ‘Mila’ shit is going to drive me crazy. My own mother doesn’t say my name in that tone.”
“Your mother is-” he stopped himself, mouth tightening.
She looked down at the beige tiled floor. Bland, too clean, the faint scent of industrial lemon disinfectant. The same floors of every hospital and institution she’d been in and out of with her mother since she was old enough to walk. They’d had long talks about her mother, about her upbringing. She’d revealed things to him she’d never told anyone, and he’d taken her secrets and... kept them safe. Not judged.
Fingers under her chin, gently forcing her face up. “Tell me.”
She flinched from the gentle lash of his tone, implacable no matter how soft and falsely civilized. She didn’t much like this side of him- the bossy side.
“I- signed up for a research program.”
He examined her face, not responding right away. “Do you mean a clinical trial? Experimental medication?”
“Yes.”
“Why would you do that? I’ve told you about the clinical trials at the facilities in this city.”
He had. As a medical resident at the local university hospital when he wasn’t in this YETI medical office, he’d shared quite a few stories with her about the health care system he’d come to Earth to learn. Amusing and grim.
She slid off the table, jerking her head away. “None of your business, Jaron.”
He moved, casually. Subtly blocking the door. She didn’t quite have the nerve to push past him- she didn’t want to confront the snake under his eyes. The patient predator ready to pounce and bite- the one he pretended didn’t exist when they spent hours watching her old flat screen television or sitting in a used bookstore- the kind without coffee so she didn’t have to be embarrassed from not being able to afford a cup.
“I thought I was your friend,” he said. “Like Gayle.”
Was he insane? Like Gayle? Gayle wasn’t a big, blue, deadly, sexy… whoops. No business thinking sexy. Even if her body was strong enough to endure sex with a Yadeshi warrior- and she heard the bedroom to them was as much a battle field as the training circles- it wasn’t like she was stupid enough to think he wanted that from her. She’d been pretty once, w
hen she’d been healthy. Curvy.
That was a long time ago.
“I guess.” She shrugged, hating that the movement felt despondent.
“Does Gayle know?”
She said nothing.
“I see. You don’t trust me. I didn’t realize I’d caused you distress, Mila. Perhaps I should leave you alone for a while.”
The manipulative bastard. He knew he was her only friend besides Gayle. He was blackmailing her.
She exhaled noisily. “You’re a jerk. They’re paying me. I’m broke, alright?” No other way to tell him, except the stark, cold truth. “I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to bitch.”
“So you would sacrifice your health for money?”
She’d rarely seen him angry- well, never. But despite the level tone, she knew he was angry now. The air around him crackled, a sudden shift from patient and predatory to growly and predatory. Snake? Nah. More like a giant tiger.
Mila glared. He had no right to judge her. None. Let him face what she was facing and then come talk to her. “I’m dying and it doesn’t matter if they experiment with me- they pay.”
He took a step back, head snapping as if she’d punched him a good one under the jaw. “What?”
Ah, shizzle. “I mean- I meant-”
No way to influence him to forget those words. She’d never tried her little trick on a Yadeshi. The hard look on his face warned her to never try it with him.
Besides, she had the suspicion that being around him was what enhanced her ability anyway.
“I know you need money,” he said. “I was waiting for you to come to me.”
Her mouth opened, closed. “Why in the hell would I do that? You aren’t my man.”
“You don’t even know what that means.” He paused, visibly calmed himself. If calm meant his expression hardening from hot anger to cold determination. “Whatever you need, you come to me, Mila. Money, healing... anything you need.”
