Dark Thoughts

by Cynthia Sax

  The males eventually gave up on that and blasted every porthole with projectiles. One caught her in the left biceps. Pain shot up her arm. She gritted her teeth, swung onto the roof.

  Warmth dripped over her fingers. Dita pushed the agony away. If she survived this assignment, she’d bind her wound. Until then, she had a task to complete.

  The males continued to shoot out the portholes, that entry point temporarily barred to her. She traded her guns for a long gun and used the break to pick off males on the ground. Her vantage point put them at an extreme disadvantage. As they hurried to defend their leader, she shot them methodically, without emotion.

  The projectile fire originating from the beverage outlet stopped. She resumed her portholes assault. There weren’t enough males remaining alive to cover all of them.

  One by one, she eliminated them until no one returned fire.

  Had she killed Todt-933? She looked around her. Warriors circled the beverage outlet, hiding behind structures. They talked on their private viewscreens to someone, likely their boss.

  Todt-933 must still be alive, holed up in the beverage outlet, protected from her assaults. Shooting through the portholes wouldn’t accomplish anything other than wasting her limited stash of projectiles.

  She had to switch tactics.

  “Are you hiding from me, Todt-933?” Dita yelled loud enough for both him and the males surrounding her to hear. “Are you scared of one little female?”

  “Fuck you,” the male hollered back.

  “You couldn’t fuck me.” Dita laughed. “Todt-931 might have been able to. Maybe Todt-932. But you?” She snorted. “Not a chance, you short-haired excuse of a male. That would require facing me, a tiny female, and we all know you don’t the courage to do that.”

  The males positioned around the beverage outlet frowned. A couple of them touched their longer locks. Her guess must have been correct. The length of a male’s hair signaled their ability to kill, to lead.

  “You’re on the roof. You’ll shoot me as soon as I exit,” Todt-933 whined.

  His minions looked at each other. Their opinion of the leader had dropped even lower.

  “I won’t shoot you. I give you my word.” She holstered her guns. “I’ll use daggers only.” She chose her two favorite blades. “Unless you’re scared of those too.”

  “Fuck you.” The male had a limited vocabulary.

  “I’ll assume that is a ‘yes.’” She pointed one of her daggers at the closest male, a warrior with hair down to his shoulders. “What about you? Do you have the balls to lead this gang? If so, show us.” Dita tilted her head at the others. “Fight me, hand-to-hand combat, no guns, no explosives, nothing but daggers.”

  “Fuck yeah.” The big brute tossed his guns to the side.

  Dita’s lips twitched. He wasn’t very intelligent.

  “Back down, Qifu.” Todt-933 barreled through the front doors. “I’m the leader of this gang.” His purple face dripped with sweat, his eyes wild. “I’ll fight her.”

  “You can fight me, Qifu, after Todt-933 begs me for mercy.” She’d die eventually. She couldn’t kill them all, even if she fought them one at a time. But she would complete her assignment. Todt-933, her last target, would be dead.

  “You’ll be the one begging for mercy.” Todt-933 extracted a huge blade. He must have believed bigger was better.

  It wasn’t. Dita somersaulted off the roof and landed on her feet, planting her boots on the sand. “Does that weapon make you feel like a tough warrior?”

  She circled the clone. Her muscles ached. Her arms and legs were tired from the previous assaults. Blood coated her fingers.

  “You’re not very tough.” She’d kill Todt-933 slowly, torture him emotionally and physically. “That’s why Todt-932 sent you away. He knew you’d be useless during the coup, get in his way and fuck everything up.”

  “Shut up.” Todt-933 ran at her, his big knife raised.

  Dita threw her right dagger without thinking, a response honed from solar cycles of killing. It embedded with a twang in the clone’s left eye socket, popping his eyeball, piercing his brain.

  Todt-933’s scream was high-pitched. He toppled backward, his body gyrating.

  “Shit.” She had killed him too quickly, hadn’t inflicted enough pain on him. Dita walked to the clone, yanked her dagger from his eye socket, turned to face Qifu.

  The big male stared at her with his mouth hanging open.

  “Your turn.” Dita smiled at him. “Or can you operate without a master giving you orders?”

  Todt-933 was ruled by emotion. Qifu wasn’t. Her taunt didn’t draw any response, the male’s eyes flat. She suspected he was already in the zone, the mental place experienced warriors went during a battle.

  The male drew his weapons. The blades were long, thin, wicked looking.

  They walked round and round, orbiting each other like planets around a star, both of them looking for weaknesses in the other. She tested him with a couple jabs.

  He countered, his reflexes surprisingly fast. One of his blades grazed her shoulder, cutting though her body covering, shaving a layer of skin. She hissed at the pain.

  The brute grinned. “I’ve killed many like—”

  She released both of her daggers. Both lodged in his throat, the male making no attempt to dodge them. His eyes widened as he dropped to the sand. The giant couldn’t fight and talk at the same time.

  “You’ve never seen any being like me.” Dita retrieved her daggers and turned.

  Three very large, very angry males faced her, swords in their hands. They’d attack her together, learning from their predecessors’ pride-induced mistakes.

  If they weren’t successful, the other males would be. The crowd behind them were armed with daggers, guns, weapons of all shapes and sizes.

  There was no chance of survival. She was going to die.

  So be it.

  Dita sheathed her daggers, grasped her battle-axe, Kralj’s gift to her, feeling the caring engraved in the hilt. “Who is next?” She grinned.

  The three males rushed toward her. She ran, meeting them midway, spinning, slashing, ducking, blocking, intent on making her death as glorious as possible.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Kralj stood at the top of his wall and scowled at the sand dunes, expecting to see curly brown hair, a pointed chin, goofy-looking goggles concealing eyes as blue as the sky.

  He wouldn’t spot her. His damn female was hunting another prey.

  Without him.

  Putting herself in danger, running into a trap, his impetuous fool.

  When he’d returned to their chambers, had seen the empty sleeping support, he had known where she’d gone. His little assassin was chasing her last target, seeking vengeance on the male who’d hurt one of her friends, had likely ended the life of another.

  Her sense of responsibility would demand she do that. Kralj understood that, understood her. But she might not survive that course of action

  Although she was highly skilled, one of the best warriors he’d ever had the privilege to hunt with, she was merely one assassin, one agonizingly killable human.

  She was outside his protection, outnumbered and alone. Her enemies could hurt her, end her life.

  His beast snarled, raking his already hurting heart with its claws. His monstrous humanoid side pushed at its restraints. His shadow stretched across his entire territory, blocking the light, casting the settlement into a darkness Kralj felt to his soul.

  He gripped the parapet, needing to hold onto something, anything. The stone crumbled under his fingers. Losing her would accomplish something the Humanoid Alliance, with all their solar cycles of torture, could never do.

  It would break him.

  He loved her. More than life. Kralj turned and gazed into the settlement, at the pathways, the rooftops, the residents. He loved her more than the Refuge. More than the rules he’d erected to protect beings, to protect himself.

  He hadn’t ventured out
side his terrain since he’d had the settlement built, had never left the residents undefended, hadn’t turned his back on the vow he’d given them.

  Follow the rules and he’d safeguard them. That’s what he’d promised. They wouldn’t die within his walls.

  If he chased Dita, he’d break that vow. The Refuge would be left unmonitored. The residents might take that as license to kill. Outsiders might attack.

  At sunrise, a Humanoid Alliance Commander and five of his males had demanded entry. Kralj had refused that request. They hadn’t accepted his ruling and planned to take the settlement by force, their thoughts centered around vengeance.

  That attack wouldn’t happen this planet rotation. More Humanoid Alliance exiles were scheduled to arrive. The Commander hoped to add them to his forces.

  Bu that didn’t mean others wouldn’t take action.

  Kralj no longer cared. Vows and honor and rules meant nothing without the female he loved, without his mate, the missing piece of himself.

  He descended, moving at human speed toward the settlement’s ground level.

  Orol. Kralj touched his second-in-command’s mind. I’m leaving the Refuge. You’re in charge.

  What? The winged male’s thoughts raced. He never leaves the Refuge. This must have something to do with Dita. I haven’t seen her this planet rotation and—

  It has everything to do with Dita. She requires my assistance. She would also receive a heavy hand applied to her backside. Kralj stomped toward the front gates. Don’t tell anyone I’m gone. I’ll be back as soon as possible.

  Preferably he’d return before all of the residents killed each other.

  He exited the gates. No one gets in or out. He gave that order to Balvan.

  The great green gatekeeper nodded.

  Kralj inhaled deeply, sucking in Dita’s distinctive scent. She’d exited that way also. He tracked her route around the rotting corpses. His intelligent female knew how to shake the gazes watching her. She easily disappeared into nothing.

  The trail ended at the docking area. Kralj stopped following her there. He knew where Dita was heading and he didn’t require transportation.

  He would arrive there faster on foot. Kralj ran, building momentum, his velocity inhumanly fast and then catapulted himself forward with the power of his mind.

  His beast yelped with glee. Within the settlement, it had been restricted by domiciles and other obstacles. In the desert, there was nothing blocking it. His body was a blur moving in a straight line toward the beverage outlet, toward Dita.

  Kralj smelled death before he saw it, the sticky sweet aroma of spilled blood flavoring the air. It excited his beast, enraged his monster, filled him with concern. He couldn’t sense Dita, couldn’t determine if she was hurt or worse. Her unique brain prevented that.

  Only males were detected within his range. He froze them all, not allowing them to move, to possibly harm his female.

  Slowing his speed, he sniffed the air, searching for her scent. He picked up a trace of it by a domicile. A male lay dead in the sand, his throat slit. That was his little assassin’s work.

  He tracked her. She’d left a trail of corpses in her wake. That pleased his dark soul. She was strong, clever, fearless.

  Kralj approached a group of males and his muscles pulled tight, flexing to the point of pain. The warriors were gathered in a circle, leaning forward, weapons in their hands, blades and clubs raised, about to strike.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He knew who was at the center. Kralj rushed toward them, tossing the males to the left and to the right, frantic to find her.

  She lay on her back, covered in blood, her beautiful face sliced, her eyes wide, her chest rising and falling. She breathed.

  “Little one.” He dropped to his knees, bending over her, shaking with relief.

  His little assassin lived.

  Barely.

  A dagger was lodged deep in her chest, exactly where her heart was. Crimson dripped from the corners of her mouth. Both of her legs were badly broken, the bones jutting through her skin, through her torn body covering.

  The pain she must be enduring, the agony…

  Kralj couldn’t contain his anguish. He tilted back his head and howled, raw, unfettered energy blasting from him, flattening everything within his territory. Sand swept away, a crater forming around them. Domiciles collapsed. The force pressed down on the nearby males, crunching spines, popping veins until all that was left of them were puddles of red.

  It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough.

  Dita, the female he loved, the female he’d failed to protect, stared up at him. She struggled to live, to breathe.

  “Dita.” His voice cracked.

  Her injuries didn’t stop his stubborn assassin from raising her hand. She placed her palm on his scarred cheek. “Love.” Her eyes glowed.

  She loved him. Pain bombarded her yet she thought only of him, comforting him, caring for him. He didn’t deserve that, didn’t deserve her.

  She stroked his skin. “Glad. Here.” She glanced down at the dagger. “Dying.”

  “No, you’re not.” Kralj covered her lips with his, his kiss hard and silencing. “I won’t allow you to die. Not now. Not ever.”

  The solution was inside him. His blood should seal her wounds, should give her his ability to heal quickly, completely.

  It might also give her all of his powers. It could turn her into a monster like him, a being able to kill with a mere thought. She could be privy to everyone else’s musings.

  He swore he’d never bring another being like him into the universe.

  But that was before he’d met Dita, his daring, stunning, loving assassin. He loved her, would break all of his rules to save her life.

  Kralj pushed back the sleeve of his coat, raised his wrist to his mouth and tore into his flesh with his fangs. Agony radiated from the wound. Blood gushed.

  He pressed his wrist to Dita’s lips. “Drink.”

  Her gaze flicked upward. There were questions in her eyes.

  She might have doubts but he didn’t. “Do it.” He shook her.

  Dita fastened her lips over his self-inflicted wound and sucked, tugging at his flesh. The pain was exquisite, her mouth on him thrilling.

  She gagged, her chest heaving. His little assassin didn’t have his thirst for blood.

  “Swallow, little one.” Kralj rubbed her throat with his free hand. “Force it down. Do this for me.” He wouldn’t survive without her.

  Dita complied, her beautiful face dark with determination.

  A heartbeat later, she convulsed, her spine bowing. Her body was trying to fight the primitive blood transfusion. He stroked her neck, murmuring comforting words while his fearless female sucked on his wrist.

  Her weakened form couldn’t defend itself against the invasion. The tremors eased. The cuts on her face healed. Dita’s eyes lost the sheen of impending death. She grew stronger. Her legs straightened, the nanohumanics in his blood setting her broken bones.

  As she drank from him, Kralj laved her face, neck, and other exposed skin with his tongue, cleaning her, savoring her taste, speeding her recovery even more. She was his to care for and he vowed to do a better job of that in the future. No one would ever harm her again.

  Kralj grew lightheaded from the blood loss. “You’ve had enough.” He pulled his wrist away from her. She resisted, was no match for his strength. He licked the wound closed and then swiped his tongue over her lips, tasting himself.

  “I love you.” Her voice was husky. “I loved you from the first moment we met but I didn’t recognize the emotion. I’ve never felt it for anyone else.”

  “I’ve never felt that emotion for anyone else either.” Kralj confessed. He petted her hair, reassuring himself that she lived. He hadn’t lost her. “Did I change you?”

  Had he cursed her, caused her to become a monster like him? He probed with his mind. The connection between them had tightened but he still couldn’t penetrate the barrier around her brain, coul
dn’t read her thoughts, couldn’t determine if she’d gained deadly new powers.

  “Yes, you’ve changed me.” Dita’s words were barely audible yet he felt them deep down in his heart.

  He’d changed her, made her like him. “I’m sorry.” He bent over her, pressed his lips to her forehead. “I didn’t want to convey my powers to you but I had to save you. I had—”

  “I don’t have your powers.” She placed her fingers over his mouth, stopping his apology. “I feel unusually strong. I’m healing quickly.” She touched a gash on her chin. “You’ve changed me in many other ways also. But I can’t read thoughts. I can’t control beings or objects or the air around us, not like you can.”

  “Have you tried?” He had to be sure.

  Dita’s lips flattened into a thin white line. Her forehead furrowed. She looked adorably intense.

  Nothing happened. Not one grain of sand moved.

  “Nope. I have no new powers.” She relaxed once more. “They would have come in handy earlier. I killed my target easily, too easily. Todt-933 was dead within moments.” Her lips twisted. “But I couldn’t kill all of his warriors. There were too many of them. I needed help.” Her gaze met his. “I needed you.”

  She needed him. Kralj’s chest warmed. “Todt-933 had set a trap for you.” He’d been correct about that.

  “He baited that trap with my friend.” A tear trickled down her right cheek, his female’s grief making his soul ache. “When I arrived, Sari had been dead for a long time.”

  Kralj had suspected that.

  “I failed her.” Dita’s gaze lowered. “If I had—”

  “You can’t change the past, little one.” He told her the same thing she’d once told him. “You almost didn’t survive that lesson.” Kralj touched the hilt of the dagger in her chest. “Next time, you’ll listen to me.”

  Dita blinked once, twice, her long dark eyelashes fluttering. “I always listen to you.”

  “Next time, you’ll obey me,” he amended.

  “Will there be a next time?” She curled her fingers over his, both of them holding the dagger’s hilt. “I can’t walk around with a blade in my heart.”

  “We have to remove it.” He dreaded causing his female more pain but this had to be done. “You should heal instantly.”