“Oh.” I swallow hard as my stomach pitches.
Why did I have to ask?
“Because it is within your nature to do so. Do not fear. I will let no harm come to you. My body can withstand significant pressure. If need be, I will shelter you myself.”
The whisper of Ren’s voice in my mind helps quiet my worry. We don’t use mind speak all the time, but when we do, the connection between us grows even stronger. I can’t wait until I’m strong enough to use it indefinitely.
“Is everyone secured? Things are about to get bumpy,” Rivan calls out as he begins to ease his way into the mess surrounding Xalta. The haze of particulates and random bits of matter flowing around us clouds the window and gives us zero visibility. I have no idea how Rivan can tell where he’s going. My fingers dig into the arm rests as the exterior of the ship is pebbled and showered with debris bouncing off the shield. Rivan accelerates and begins pushing his way through the flow. We’re moving so fast the objects whizzing by are unrecognizable, and my vision blurs, making me dizzy. Rather than try to keep up with what’s happening outside, I look to Ren.
Wait, what is Ren wearing?
For the first time since I sat down, I stop worrying long enough to notice the dark, thick-soled boots strapped to Ren’s feet. Those are new. Well, new to him. He must have found them on his side of the closet. Dressed in all black, the thick, heavy material of his pants contrasts the smooth, thin shirt stretched across the defined ridges of his chest and biceps. His bronze skin and chiseled jaw announce his masculinity, while the pale blue of his eyes hint at the depths that reside underneath. He’s beautiful. And he’s mine.
We slow, then take a steep dive through Xalta’s atmosphere, sending my head jerking forward and then slamming back into my chair. Pain ratchets down my neck, into my spine.
Gone before I can even ask, the pain subsides as Ren sends relief through our bond. “Relax, my Aciana. We are almost there.”
“What do you mean, no? Why can’t I come?” I ask, stomping my foot. After we landed safely on the surface, Ren pulled me to the side and informed me that Leandra and I wouldn’t be going with them. Crossing my arms, I lean against the table, waiting for an explanation. The dust covering the nav window mostly obstructs my view, but piles of sand swirl like tornadoes in the distance.
Not helping, Xalta.
“The sensors on the outside of the ship register the breathability of the air. They show appropriate levels of oxygen but also large amounts of contaminants. The environment is too harsh for human lungs.”
“What if I wore one of those suits from the front of the ship? Wouldn’t that filter the air?” Ren looks to Sol and nods toward the door. Sol sets his tablet down and hurries out of the room.
“Yes, but the winds outside are so violent, the ship’s shield still recognizes it as a threat and has yet to disengage. Not to mention those.” He points to the sand funnels dancing outside.
Damn, I was hoping he wouldn’t notice.
“So? A little wind never hurt anyone...” I square my shoulders, ready to plead my case. I know he’s a stubborn male, but he should know how important this is to me.
“And if it rips the suit? What then?” Ren asks, raising a brow in challenge.
“Bring some tape,” I counter.
His eyes linger on my lips as he drags a thumb across my jaw. “And if it doesn’t hold?”
“It will. You worry too much.”
“I do not like the risk. There are too many unknown variables,” he says, brushing my hair off my shoulders.
“You’ll need my help. If those females are as violent and crazed as Injari and Urina were when Ragar rescued them from the Inokine ship, they won’t come near you. You’ll have to subdue them, and that’s risky, too.”
Ren grabs my hips and yanks me upward. “Why must you be so defiant? I only wish to keep you safe,” he whispers against my mouth between kisses.
“Would you want me any other way?” I ask, meeting his gaze.
“I want you as you are, my Aciana. Any way you desire to be. I know you are not one to sit idle. Your strength is exemplified by your drive to help others.”
I give him a wide grin. “So, I can go?” His answer doesn’t matter. I’m going whether his big protective ass likes it or not. But hearing him agree with me would help to decrease the weight of my decision.
Wait, did he just roll his eyes at me?
“Go get the damn suit. I want to inspect it before you put it on. If it is not fully functional, you will remain on the ship with the other females.”
Wiggling out of his arms, I sprint to the anteroom and grab one of the suits vacuum sealed next to the entrance.
Leandra jumps up as I pass her on my way back to Ren. “Oh, no you don’t! If you’re going, I’m going!” I look over my shoulder just in time to see her cross her arms and glare at Ragar. “I’m going.”
Illaria snickers to Vora as I run by. “Why does she insist on acting like a male? What a waste. Any females she births will be wild and untamable.”
I continue my pace, ignoring their nonsense.
They can say what they want. If getting your hands dirty trying to make a difference makes you a man, then give me a dick and call me Henry.
Chapter Fourteen
Ren
The density of the sand saturating the air will work in our favor. So thick, even I am required to wear a particulate guard. Re-adjusting the animal hide wrapped around my face, I scan the distance. The fine frequency sensors Sol released ahead of us have already identified six trip wires and two heat-seeking missiles set up to remotely detonate. Squatting down, I drag my fingers through the warm dirt, then taste it. The energy here is dark. Gluttony and greed have destroyed what used to be a prolific world, and now all that is left is death and misery. Even the howling winds cannot mask the scent of fear emanating from the fortress ahead.
A ray of light bounces off a sniper sight in the distance, giving away their location. I chuckle at their arrogance. Like their projectiles could reach us in time. Killing at a distance is cold and impersonal. Only a coward takes a life without cherishing the moment it bleeds away. I already despise this place.
Standing, I creep back to where my mate, Ragar, and Leandra remain hidden beneath some brush. There is a raised rock face that juts out, providing cover from the white-hot sun blaring down. This side of the planet is on its death cycle, and the star above burns bright. I worry for my mate. With the force of the wind and the weight of her suit, she struggles to keep up as we advance on the rear side of the compound. Supporting her, I guide her forward over the rocks and sand pits. Picking her up would be less taxing, but she is far too stubborn to allow it.
The compound rests on the edge of a cliff, the steep drop providing a natural barricade against interlopers. With a nod, Ragar confirms my suspicions. With the exception of the two snipers posted in the tower facing the compound, it has been left mostly unguarded. Overconfident pricks. From this angle, their view of the rear facing wall is completely obstructed.
They cannot see us.
After calculating our visibility, the four of us stay on the outer edge of the boundary to avoid the drones flying overhead. The guards patrolling the corner closest to us grumble and curse about the heat. Good. Their distraction will lower our chances of being seen. Gathering the waist of her suit in my hand, I fling Jayla over my shoulder and dig my fingers into the nearest wall crevice.
“What the hell? What are you doing?” she yells, kicking and flailing her legs in protest. The roar of the wind wrapping around the building muffles her voice. If she were much louder, they could have heard.
“Calm, Skara. You cannot make the climb alone.” Her body goes stiff, and her movements cease.
“Climb? We’re not climbing up that wall.”
“You are correct.” Her lungs recoil, releasing a breath, and I chuckle. “You are not climbing, I am. If you wish to be upright for the journey, I will set you down and you may climb on my
back. I cannot do this one-handed.”
“Oh, my God. You’re serious.”
“Yes. Stop fighting. Ragar and Leandra are already halfway up.” She wraps her arms around me and digs her heels against my sides. Her muscles tremble, and the bitter stench of her fear invades my nose.
“Swear you won’t drop me?”
I tense. Does she doubt I am strong enough to carry her weight? Or that I would be so reckless as to allow her to fall? How could she think I would le—”
“Oh, stop, Ren. I’m just nervous...”
“I will never let you go.” Her doubt stings. And my mate drive compels me to silence her worry.
“I know, love. Just go. You don’t want Ragar to steal your kills, do you?”
He has already scaled to the top and is crawling over the side. Digging my fingers in, I haul us upward, determined to get my fair share. Ragar is a greedy fighter. He would happily drown in blood, leaving me nothing to sate my rage. As soon as my feet hit the ground, I run. Keeping pace beside Ragar, I sprint full speed with Jayla in my arms, until we have reached the exterior door leading to the entry chamber.
If what Sol uncovered is accurate, the hybrid that owns this compound is a jealous being. Only positioning his murder-for-hires outside his gate. His slaves are kept by female overseers that beat them into submission. The set of plans Sol sent through the bond are recent, so the layout should be what we expect. I nod to Ragar, watching as he scales up another wall to observe the floor above. I would prefer to know what lies beyond this door before I enter.
Images flow through my mind as I tap into what he sees. An elaborate bed. Cuffs bolted to the walls. A long wooden box that lies open on the floor. The room above us is some sort of pleasure room or sleeping quarters. The long, u-shaped hallway that runs parallel to our location holds three rooms on each side. Six separate female scents. One male. None of them familiar. Sex and desperation permeate the air. Perhaps these are the overseer’s quarters.
Ragar jumps down, landing squarely in the middle of the opulent floor below. He grunts in approval as his dirty boots scuff its jewel-encrusted tiles. The scent of fear demands his attention. This floor is thick with it, along with something else. Urine. Filth. A barely contained rage explodes inside him. Illusian males do not tolerate the abuse of females. Ragar takes it as a personal offense.
I cut off the connection as he bounds toward us. Jayla startles at the click of the door unlocking. Taking the lead so Ragar can slide to the rear, I keep Leandra and Jayla between us. After stopping briefly to ensure both females are secure in their suits, I follow my nose to the right. The bitter scent of misery grows thick and twisted, tainting all available air. My gaze darts to my mate. Her nose wrinkles beneath the visor of her suit.
“What’s that smell?” she asks, turning to Leandra. The other female grimaces.
Grunting, Ragar reaches down into his boot and retrieves a set of knives, handing one to Leandra, then Jayla.
“Where am I supposed to put this?” Leandra asks.
Wrapping her fingers around the handle, Ragar closes his fist over hers and presses it against her chest. “Here. You keep it here.” She holds his gaze, then tightens her grip on the knife. Jayla follows suit.
The patter of feet echo to my left. This scent is different. Signaling Ragar to hold, I step around the corner to visualize the source. A frail, thin, golden-skinned female fumbles with two large heavy jugs of water. They shake as her muscles strain to handle the weight. Her clothes are tattered, her feet torn and bare. My hackles rise as she approaches. She is unbathed, unkempt. I step out, revealing myself, and she recoils, stumbling back.
“No, no,” she shakes her head. “Bad. This bad. You no be here.” She speaks in broken Metaversial, then rambles in a language I cannot understand. Rather than force a translation through my mate bond, I consult Jayla, knowing it will require less of her energy.
“What is she saying?” I gesture for my mate to move closer. She will remain unseen, shielded out of sight. I do not know what this strange female is capable of.
“I can’t understand it all. She’s speaking very broken Meta and what sounds like Narji. Something about her master hurting her…” The female continues to ramble to herself, teetering back and forth, seemingly unable to make a choice to stay or leave. My mate’s brow furrows as she continues to listen. “Um, she says you have to leave before he finds you. Her words are mostly unintelligible, but from what I can tell she wants to run but the girls below haven’t been allowed water for three days and are desperately in need.”
I clench my fists in an effort to control my rage and conceal the barbs pushing through my skin. Their sting clears the haze of anger clouding my thoughts. This female will spook easily. The fragile being’s gaze meets mine, and she shudders.
“Hide. Now,” I whisper, letting a small amount of anger slip through my restraint. The colors around me sharpen as my pupils widen. The female stiffens and drops the sealed jugs, turning to run.
I jerk my head to Ragar. We need to move. Scanning once more for hostiles, I return my focus to the corpse-gray door in front of us. The fine wisps extending from its surface curl and wiggle with each shift of the air. Narrowing my eyes, I lean in. They appear to reach for me, trying to sense what I am. I step back. The ozone wafting from the compartment above hints at the plasma weapons hidden inside. There is no visible way to gain entry. No keypad or palm scan. No visible lock. The female held nothing but water and had no collar or other bindings that would trigger a sensor. Placing an ear to the ground, I listen, locking eyes with my mate. No buzzing or noticeable thrum. Jayla stares at me, and I can feel her curiosity pulsing through our bond. Her eyes shift to the door, then narrow on the projections.
“What the hell is th—” she asks, reaching out to caress their lengths. I thrust my arm out, trying to block her. Too late. The black hair like tendrils wrap themselves around her hand, and the door hums to life. I shove my body in front of her to block her from the weapons mounted overhead. Jerking back, Jayla stumbles into Leandra. The system did not arm itself. It simply allowed her entrance. Whatever this living material is, it must sense female DNA. I am taken aback by its ability to read her through her suit.
“I told you. You need me.” Her lips curl into a cocky smirk.
I do. More than she could ever know.
“Stop fucking touching things. That could have gone very differently.” Guilt splinters through my irritation when the pride in Jayla’s eyes dims at my harsh words. She was happy to have helped. I must get better at reading her. “Thank you. But you must keep your hands to yourself.”
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go.”
Pulling the door wide, the plume of toxicity that creeps through the opening stings my eyes. So much filth. So much suffering. The same finger-like protuberances coating the door dance along the walls on either side of us as we descend the stairs. I can hear the captive females now. Their whimpers and cries. The rustle of chains and the buzz of some sort of electric prod. I worry for my mate. Her ears have yet to register the sounds. I can still shield her. She takes on the pain of others as her own, and whatever we find at the end of these stairs will make a lasting impression.
“Say the word, and I will return you to the ship. Some things are better left unseen, my Aciana.” My gaze cuts to hers as I halt my steps, giving her a window before there is no turning back. Sweat drips down her brow. Even through the stench, I can scent her fear. Her discomfort.
“Whoever is down here deserves to be seen. Deserves to be helped.” My mate turns back to Leandra. They share a look between them—an unspoken question. Leandra nods. They have made their choice.
Slinking forward, I lead the group through a narrow hallway. Mostly dark, I use my night vision to guide us through. The scent of soil surrounds around us. We are underground. The hallway dead ends and splits off to the left and right. Gritting my teeth, I head right. Death and agony linger in the air like a fog, and it thickens the farther we go.
>
I grab my mate and pull her close. Continuing forward, we find a series of six livestock stalls. Barred across the top, they are open to the air and shaded with darkness. The rustling of chains draws my attention. There is a female lying inside the first, naked and bloodied, chained by the ankles and neck to the wall behind. Her skeletal, malnourished body trembles in the damp air, and although I am unable to see the color of her skin, her features elude to her race. She is part-human.
Releasing a low growl, Ragar prowls ahead, careful not to disturb the sleeping female to inspect the remainder of the alcove. Her breaths are weak. Barely audible. She is in dire need of sustenance. But we cannot risk waking her. She could become frantic and reveal us to whomever remains inside. There is nothing beyond the stalls. The other five remain empty. The wounded female whimpers in her sleep, alerting Jayla and Leandra to her presence.
“Oh, God. Is there someone in there?” Jayla pushes forward, trying to see inside, but it is too dark.
“We must secure this floor prior to moving her,” I whisper, guiding both her and Leandra back towards the split in the hall.
“No. I can’t leave her. What if she needs help? She’s whimpering. Let me do something...” My mate once again pushes forward.
The human mechanic stands silently, staring forward into the dim light. “This is where they’re forced to sleep?” The emotion in her voice draws Ragar to her side. I tune out his words of reassurance. Those are for the human’s ears only.
“We will return. I swear on my honor. The female is sleeping. It is best not to disturb her.” I grab Jayla’s hands and pull her to me. A scream rips through the room, echoing from the left. Jayla grows tense in my arms and turns to run toward it. Ragar stalks down the hall, leaving Leandra huddled next to my mate.
“Where’s he going? He can’t just go off by himself!” The human mechanic’s concern is misplaced. It is those at the end of this hall who should fear. His violence is magnificent.
Unwelcome Page 8
