Chasing Mayhem

by Cynthia Sax

  Imee was the enemy, a being without loyalty or honor.

  She was his female, Mayhem reminded himself. When he chose to claim her, her past wouldn’t matter. He’d take her back to the cyborg Homeland and neither of them would ever leave.

  She’d never again associate with the Humanoid Alliance. He’d never again explore unknown terrain, never battle another warrior to the death.

  That safe, uneventful future depressed him.

  For now, they were both free, on a strange planet, facing one another as possible foes, not as a male and his female. Mayhem would enjoy his remaining moments to the fullest, delay the inevitable for as long as possible.

  Imee glanced at the helmet he’d set on the sand, looked in his direction, and squinted. Although she couldn’t see him—her human vision was inadequate to pierce the darkness— she felt his presence.

  Satisfaction warmed Mayhem’s soul. Imee would experience that awareness with no other male. She’d remember it and wouldn’t be tempted to breed with others while they were parted. Humans weren’t monogamous as cyborgs were.

  The thought of her touching another male disturbed him. It was one of the only possible holes in his plan.

  “They couldn’t have moved it,” she murmured, her words spoken at a softness no human could detect. “Could they?”

  Mayhem heard her but he didn’t answer her question. He waited for her next move, for her to come to him, to track him.

  Imee cautiously stepped out of the corridor of stone, revealing her entire body, and his big cyborg heart pounded. She was diminutive yet sturdy, a sheath-sized stunner.

  All of the females the other cyborgs had claimed were tiny. They were human. But they’d appear tall, standing next to his female. She barely reached midway on his chest.

  Imee wasn’t inconsequential, however. Far from that. She had broad shoulders and equally wide hips, muscular arms and legs. Between her white leather breast and ass coverings was a bared toned stomach, the exposed golden skin decorated with small silver scars, the firmness of her midsection contrasting intriguingly with her high full breasts.

  She was armed, guns on both hips, daggers in her knee-high boots, at least one more blade hidden in her breast covering. Restraints dangled from her waist. A long gun was held in her right hand.

  Mayhem liked that. She was a fighter. When he claimed her, she’d understand him, challenge him, perhaps provide some much needed excitement during their captivity on the Homeland.

  She certainly was adding excitement to his lifespan now.

  Imee approached the helmet, gazed around her, scrunched her nose. Her fingers rested on the trigger of the long gun. She pushed the helmet with the barrel, stepped back, raised the long gun.

  When nothing happened, she rolled, scooped up the helmet, put it back on her head as she stood once more, her booted feet braced apart, her knees slightly bent.

  His female was ready to face danger.

  Mayhem’s lips curled upward.

  He was eager to supply it.

  Chapter Two

  Imee tightened her grip on her long gun. Sand shifted around her booted feet. Awareness skittered down her spine.

  She was being watched.

  By at least one of the males. She’d sensed his presence as soon as she’d arrived at the landing site, her physical reaction to him disturbingly intense. Her nipples had grown taut, pressing against her leather chest covering. Her pussy had become wet, needy.

  She desired him. Imee snorted softly, disgusted with herself. Her feelings wouldn’t change their relationship. It couldn’t.

  She was a Retriever and the male stalking her was her target. He could be nothing more. She’d capture him, return him to the Humanoid Alliance, collect the credit.

  Keep her family safe, perhaps earn the right to see them.

  She was their only hope. Their planet had been conquered by the Humanoid Alliance when she had twelve solar cycles, her dad losing his life in that invasion.

  She’d been strong for her age. That increased her odds of meeting quota. She’d also been female. The Humanoid Alliance deemed her gender as being psychologically weaker and easier to emotionally manipulate.

  They had made her watch as they brutally tortured and executed her neighbors, friends, extended family. Imee had pleaded for mercy with each kill, each victim.

  Nothing stopped them.

  The worst death had been Cheskka’s. Her cousin had seen only two solar cycles and could barely string three words together.

  That hadn’t saved her from the torture. The Humanoid Alliance males had sliced her cousin’s face into strips. Every flash of their daggers had drawn screams from the child’s throat. Blood had dripped down Cheskka’s neck, soaked her garments.

  The abuse had lasted a full planet rotation until she bled out.

  The Humanoid Alliance males had dumped Cheskka’s lifeless body in a mass grave, a giant hole in the ground filled with Imee’s loved ones, and then they had redirected their evil to another rebel. The torture, the killing had gone on and on.

  Imee became crazed with grief, sick to her stomach, ready to agree to anything.

  That was when they offered her a deal—retrieve rebels for the Humanoid Alliance and her beloved mom, her younger sister Jae, and her baby brother Geo would be spared.

  They’d live.

  As long as she retrieved her quota of rebels, all three of them would be safe, cared for, guarded on an administrative station far from any fighting.

  If she failed, they would die.

  That couldn’t happen.

  No emotion. They are targets, not beings. Imee pushed away her distracting arousal and mentally recited the rules her mentor Kralj had taught her. Concentrate on retrieving them, capturing them.

  “I’m to escort you to the Refuge.” Her declaration echoed off the walls of rock. Once Kralj, the leader of that settlement, granted her permission, she’d return the two males to the Humanoid Alliance, collect her credits.

  “I won’t be entering the Refuge.” The mystery male’s low deep voice skittered down her spine and coiled within her womb.

  He was the one watching her. She knew that in her gut. Where was the other one?

  Imee stared in the male’s direction, unable to see anything. “You have to accompany me.”

  “I’m free. I no longer have to do anything.”

  “I’m not giving you a choice.” She lifted her long gun.

  One moment, she was holding the weapon. The next moment, her hands were empty.

  “What happened?” All she’d seen was a blur, large, dark, moving quickly, and then nothing. He’d disappeared, fading back into the shadows, taking her gun with him. “Who are you?”

  The male chuckled, the sound making her stomach flutter. “Others call me Mayhem. You may call me your male.”

  “You’re not my male.” And she wouldn’t ever use his name.

  That was another one of Kralj’s rules. Don’t call targets by their names. View them as anonymous beings. That made sending them to their deaths easier.

  “What are you?” She wanted to know the type of being she was facing.

  “Before the sun sets, I’ll hear my name on your sweet lips.” He ignored her question, issuing her a challenge.

  It was a challenge she’d win.

  “That won’t happen.” She glanced to the left and to the right, seeing nothing except sand, shadow, and white rock. “Where is the other male?”

  “He’s not for you.”

  “You’re not for me.” Imee rolled her eyes. “Kralj insists I escort the two of you to the Refuge. The other male--”

  “Isn’t here.”

  Then the other male was dead. No being disobeyed her mentor and lived to talk about it. “Kralj will see that as a sign of disrespect.” Disrespect was contagious, her mentor often told her. It couldn’t be tolerated. “He’ll kill your friend.”

  “He’ll try to.” The male, her sole remaining target, didn’t sound concerned.
“Menace isn’t easy to kill.”

  Her target and his soon-to-be-dead friend were called Mayhem and Menace. What species had their skills and that type of naming convention? Imee dredged the depths of her memories. No species she’d been exposed to fit those perimeters.

  “You don’t know whom you’re dealing with,” she cautioned.

  If he mouthed off to Kralj, he’d die also and a dead target wasn’t worth anything to the Humanoid Alliance. She’d earn no credits by returning a corpse. Imee had learned that the first solar cycle.

  “I’m not scared of your Kralj.” Her target scoffed at her warning.

  “Then you’re a fool.” Kralj ruled the Refuge with violence and strength. Nothing happened near its walls without his approval. He had powers Imee couldn’t fully comprehend.

  The male in the shadows could be as dangerous.

  “My processors are highly advanced, my female.”

  Imee frowned. “Your processors?” What manner of being was he?

  Metal flashed in the darkness, light reflecting off a dagger’s blade. “Catch me and I’ll accompany you.”

  She was the best Retriever in the galaxy. Catching targets was her sole purpose and the only reason her family remained alive.

  The overconfident male would lose his challenge.

  Imee extracted her restraints, winding the unbreakable metal strips around her fingers, watching, looking for her opportunity. He’d make a mistake. Targets always did.

  The sun’s rays illuminated the edge of a dagger, pinpointing his exact location. That was it, her chance. She sprang forward.

  The male laughed, moving before she reached him.

  She cursed. He ran, his tread light yet audible, sand crunching under his boot heels. Imee followed, catching glimpses of him.

  He was a big brute, his shoulders broad, his hips narrow, his fit physique clad in skintight black body armor. Daggers and guns decorated the garment.

  Every weapon she viewed was top quality and well maintained. This target wasn’t a ragged rebel who had barely escaped with his lifespan. He was an experienced warrior, valuable, rare.

  The Humanoid Alliance would want him back, would grant her multiple credits for his retrieval. She’d already made quota for the solar cycle.

  She could earn the right to see her family.

  Adrenaline surged through Imee. She wouldn’t let him escape her.

  He wove through the boulders. Imee tracked him.

  Every time she thought she’d lost him, he’d make a mistake. She’d reach a fork in the path and spot a tanned hand. She’d slow and hear a heel strike stone.

  Sweat trickled down her spine. Her muscles ached.

  She felt more alive than she had in solar cycles. Normally, her targets were easy to apprehend. They realized that their choice was retrieval or death by Kralj’s hand and they didn’t put up much of a fight.

  This was a challenge, a worthy adversary.

  The path made a hard right. Imee rounded the corner.

  Big arms hooked around her waist, drawing her against a wall of rock, knocking the restraints from her hands. She twisted out of his grasp, reached for her weapons. Her target gripped her wrists, stretched them high above her head, pinned her hips with his.

  She raised her knee. He repositioned to block the strike, moving faster than her gaze could follow.

  Shit. Her breasts heaved against his chest. He’d restrained her. Her gaze lifted to his face and her jaw dropped.

  No being should ever be that handsome.

  His hair was wild, sticking straight up, defying gravity. His dark eyes glimmered with humor, sparks of gold in the blackness of space. His jaw was defined, his face beardless and stark, as though it had been honed from the rock around them. Two stripes of black decorated each tanned cheek, making him appear even more savage, more primitive.

  His lips, stars, his lips. They were firm with a slight curve in them, hinting that he found the universe, his lifespan, and everything else, including her, amusing.

  Imee swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. She wanted to taste that levity, to taste him.

  He was a target. Nothing more than that. She couldn’t forget that.

  “You--”

  The male claimed her lips, severing her sentence, her declaration of intent. The force of his kiss drove her head back.

  She bit him, hard, drawing blood.

  A normal male would be furious. He laughed.

  The cut on his bottom lip healed before the sounds of his mirth faded. She stared at his flesh, at the blood already congealing. “You’re not human.” He was something other.

  “No, I’m not.” Undeterred, he covered her lips with his again.

  She bared her clenched teeth, silently communicating that he would never get access to her mouth. He sucked, tugging on her.

  A sexy bubbling sensation spread across her flesh, a thousand tiny mouths pulling, releasing, pulling, releasing.

  She denied him. He persisted, his tenacity earning him her begrudged admiration. The male, her target, laved her lips with his tongue and rocked his hips against hers, the ridge in his body armor long and thick and hard, pressing against her mons.

  Arousal fogged her brain. She forced herself to think, to concentrate on her foe.

  Resistance wasn’t effective. She had to change her strategy.

  Imee parted her teeth, feigning capitulation. Her target didn’t hesitate to accept his prize, pushing his tongue inside her.

  A wave of wanting accompanied his sensual assault. She moaned, the sound escaping her before she could stop it. He tasted of blood and metal and aroused male. She twined her tongue around his and inhaled, drawing him deeper.

  The fizzing spread through her mouth, down her throat, across her body. A band of need wrapped around her chest. Her breasts ached. Her pussy pulsed.

  He held her wrists in one large palm, cupped her ass with the other, lifting her until her boots no longer touched the sand. Although she was shorter than many females, she was broad and muscular and heavy, yet he showed no signs of exertion.

  The warrior was unlike any being she’d ever met. “What are you?” She raised her chin, breaking their kiss.

  “Yours.” He bent his head and licked down her neck, leaving a sensuous trail on her skin. “I can’t stop touching you.” He sounded as unhappy with their attraction as she was.

  Because he was her enemy, her target.

  The male was playing games with her, delighting her body, muddling her thoughts, making her forget who she was, what she had to do. “Do you know who I am?”

  He was an unknown species. Perhaps he didn’t know. Perhaps he saw her as merely a female to fuck.

  “You’re mine.” He fastened his mouth to her chin and sucked.

  Imee’s eyelashes fluttered. “I’m not yours.” She couldn’t belong to him, to any male. The Humanoid Alliance owned her. They had her family and would always control her actions. “I’m a Retriever and you’re my next credit.”

  She kneed the warrior, with everything she had, right in the balls.

  He captured her leg between his thighs. Her eyes widened. Any other male would have collapsed with that move. He leaned forward, pushing his nut sack against her knee.

  “You’re mentally deficient,” she concluded.

  He chuckled, the sound strained. “I’m fully functional, my female.”

  “You allowed me to knee you.”

  He’d blocked her the first time. She suspected he could have blocked her again.

  “You’d continue to try until you were successful.” He was right. She would have. “I’ve endured worse abuse from less beautiful beings.” His eyes glowed.

  He wanted her and she wanted him. She gazed at him. He gazed back. She could easily lose herself in those dark-brown eyes.

  She couldn’t allow that. “You’re my target.”

  “I’m your male.” He lowered her booted feet to the sand. “You’ll accept that connection when I decide to claim you.”
He skimmed his free hand over her arms, breasts, stomach, his fingers rough against her bare skin. She trembled and his lips curled upward. “For now, I’ll settle for my name on your lips. Say it and I’ll release you.”

  He’d release her? Her head tilted. “Why would I believe you?”

  “I’d never lie to you.” His erection pushed against her stomach, hard and unrelenting. “You’re my female.”

  “Stop saying that.” She tried to pull away from him.

  His grip on her wrists didn’t loosen. “Say my name, Imee.”

  She wouldn’t. Imee pressed her lips together. Saying his name meant viewing him as a being. She’d feel guilt, pain when she delivered him to his death.

  And she had to do that. She had to retrieve him. Her family’s safety depended on it, on her.

  The blasted male waited, his big body still, his chest rising and falling, caressing her breasts with each breath. His gaze was fixed on her face, his eyes sparkling with amusement, with something resembling pride.

  The sun beat down on her uncovered head, her helmet lost during the chase. Sweat beaded on her face, ran in rivulets down her spine, between her ass cheeks. He showed no signs of being affected by the heat.

  He was bigger, stronger, an unidentified species. She’d never outlast him and was punishing herself for no reason. “All you want is for me to say your name?”

  The male’s eyes flashed with triumph. “That’s all I want. At this moment.”

  He was her target. Saying his name wouldn’t alter that fact.

  Kralj would tell her otherwise, stating that the rules were made for a reason. If she wanted to be the best, to be the sole Retriever allowed within the Refuge’s walls, she had to adhere to them.

  Her mentor wasn’t here. But he’d know she’d broken the rules. He always did. Her choice was disappoint her mentor and risk expulsion or remain her target’s captive. She could find targets outside the Refuge. She couldn’t retrieve anyone if she was a prisoner.

  Imee inhaled, counted to five, exhaled. “Mayhem.”

  “Say it louder.”

  She should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. “Mayhem. There. I said it.” She yanked on her arms. “Now, honor your word and let me go.”