by J. J. Lore
“Your presence here is unauthorized, and you must leave the building,” declared one of the officers, and Mikel smiled at him. “We have the advantage of numbers, weaponry, and proper authority. Don’t compound your mistakes even further.”
“Stand aside, Zet. We will have our bondmate, and if she chooses the merciful path, I will not crush your skull beneath my heel.”
Growls filled the air, and all the men tensed.
“They have weapons!” she screamed as loudly as she could, heedless if she was giving away her place of concealment. One of the Alphans immediately spun on his heel and trotted her way, a terrible frown on his golden face. Resurgent fear chased away her momentary burst of confidence, and she turned and ran, hampered by the damned restraints still binding her ankles. She had no immediate destination in mind, merely wanting to put distance between her and the man she could hear drawing near. At least she’d improved the odds in Mikel and Felix’s favor. Now they only faced four instead of five.
Without warning, her feet slipped out from under her and she went tumbling into a pile of cloth bags stuffed with something vaguely soft. She craned her head back and saw the pursing Alphan had stepped on the slack line binding her ankles. He bent down and picked it up, then proceeded to drag her along the floor back towards the men still at a standoff. Before she even saw Felix and Mikel, she could sense their rage and urge to fight. It washed over her in a hot, sticky wave, and her own body tensed in response.
“I have your soiled little morsel and will sever her spinal cord without hesitation,” the man pulling her announced, and she gritted her teeth. “Leave now. Forget this ever happened.”
Now on her back, she stared up at the Alphans surrounding her; assailants on one side, her men on the other. Anger prickled through her veins, and in a spontaneous move, she kicked at the man holding her, more as a means to release some tension than with any thought of harming him. Shockingly, she made contact with the side of his knee, and his leg snapped the wrong way. With a high-pitched grunt, he toppled over, and she immediately scrambled away, dodging legs as Mikel and Felix threw themselves into the fight. It was a flurry of movement, the melee moving so fast it was hard for her to follow. Several weapons clattered to the floor as the opponents struck each other. One of the other men had some sort of electrified whip in his hand, and he circled the fighters, looking for an opening that would allow him to strike at Felix or Mikel and not injure one of his own. One man had a grip around Mikel’s neck while another rained blows on whatever body part he could reach while Felix fended off the other with well-aimed kicks.
The Alphan with the injured knee was fumbling at something silver attached to his belt, and without a thought she crawled to him and grabbed his arm. It was as solid as steel, and he had no trouble pulling a gun-like device from a small holster even though she pulled with all her might. With a grunt and a harsh-sounding Alphan word, he shoved her over, her feet flying up, the restraint between them flipping over his head and shoulder. Sucking a breath into her shaking lungs, she jerked her legs, tightening the band and finally throwing him off balance. With his injured knee he couldn’t gain his footing for leverage against her, and she flexed her thigh muscles. Unexpected strength powered through her, and the man fell over with a crash, his head hitting the concrete floor with a terrible crunching sound. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he shuddered convulsively a few times.
Not caring about his state of health, Alisa rolled back his way and pulled the restraint away from his immobile body then grabbed the small gun he’d been carrying. She had no idea how to use it, but had the urge to give it a try. While she’d been fighting on the floor, Mikel had somehow managed to disable one of his attackers, and was battering away at the other as Felix grappled with his opponent in close grips. Before she could concentrate on her weapon, there was a hissing crack and a bright line of light snapped across Felix’s back, leaving a smoldering line across his cloak as he reared back with a groan. He staggered and released his hold on the other man, slowly sank first to his knees, then was completely prone. With a cry of distress, she launched herself at him, grabbing his head up off the floor and staring at his slack features.
Mikel must have caught the blow in his peripheral vision, for he flung the man struggling in his grasp up into the hull of the ship and whirled their way. The man he’d thrown fell to the floor and didn’t move. In an instant he was running directly at the man with the electric whip, who was so startled he jerked the weapon back too quickly and it tangled in one of the struts of the ship. With a growl, Mikel was on him, crushing his elbow into the other man’s nose which instantly flattened and ran with rivers of bright red blood. As the other man doubled over, Mikel brought both arms around his neck and twisted the helpless man’s head until there was a wet snapping sound. He dropped the body and rushed to their sides, the hangar suddenly quiet after the frantic seconds of the fight.
“He’s not moving at all,” she said, finding it hard to catch her breath as she cradled Felix’s head in her lap.
“The lash disrupts the nervous system. I’m calling for a medic.”
“No, don’t bring anyone here. He might come back.” Alisa’s momentary bravery deserted her when she considered Ivar’s possible return. She spared a glance around her at the fallen security officers, the blood spatters, the tumbled stacks of containers. It had all happened so quickly and ended with so much death.
“Who did this to you, my love?” Mikel asked as he ran his hands over his bondmate’s pulse points.
“Your commander, Ivar Offen. He pulled me into a car and brought me here. He was going to take me to a slum and leave me.” She paused and stroked her hand down Felix’s cheek. “Is he…”
Mikel frowned. “His pulse is weak, but steady. I know someone who will—”
A sudden noise had them both turning back to the entrance where she saw the commandant, covered in a wet cape similar to what Felix and Mikel had worn. His eyes widened as he took in the carnage. Her hands shook with renewed fear.
With a grunt, Mikel rose and stared at his commander. “I claim the right to trial by combat with you, Offen. You conspired to kill my bondmate.”
The other man blinked and shook his head once. “You can’t invoke that old statue. It doesn’t apply anywhere but on Alphan soil, between pure-blooded Alphans.”
“This hangar is ceded to us by the humans, and all laws of Alpha apply here,” Mikel shot back as he quickly removed his wet cloak. “You lectured me on that the first day we arrived. Among so many other things that I now realize were unimportant.”
Alisa shifted her weight so she could bring her weapon into Mikel’s line of sight. She wanted him to have it and kill the man who’d engineered so much suffering.
“What are you doing? You’ve disobeyed me, abandoned your duties to the prince, clearly murdered your fellow officers, and now you want to fight me? Over this squalid human? Does miscegenation destroy brain cells?” Clearly frustrated, Ivar breathed heavily through his mouth as he stared at Mikel. “You will be ruined. I’ll see that you are court martialed for this and spend the rest of your days in a windowless cell too small for you to stand or lie in.”
“How will you accomplish that when you are dead by my hand?” Never taking his eyes from the other man, Mikel crouched down and placed his hand over hers, arranging her fingers over the weapon she held until her fingers slid into depressions made for them. His skin was warm, and he was as steady at the ground under them. “Aim and squeeze. If I should fall, use this to defend him and yourself. Find refuge somewhere until Felix can call for help.”
Her stomach turned over as he rose up, a slight smile on his lips. He flexed his arms and strode toward his erstwhile commander. How he’d be able to defeat an armed man who hadn’t just battled and bested three highly trained fighters, she didn’t know, but she knew he’d die attempting to save her and his bondmate. Almost as if he could sense their dire situation, Felix shivered in her arms, and she tightened
her hold on him.
Mikel attacked silently, rushing Ivar in a surprising burst of speed and managing to kick a weapon from the other man’s hand before he could bring it to bear. Rapid blows and parries from both men followed, and the hangar echoed with the sounds of their harsh breathing and the thumps of their bodies against each other. The other man landed a roundhouse blow against Mikel’s midsection and sent him staggering away. He fell to the floor and rolled onto his hands and knees. With a supercilious twist of his lip, the commander reached underneath his cloak and pulled out a short, evil-looking blue blade. She screamed out a warning, and Ivar spared her a glance.
“Stupid human. You’re next to die.”
Mikel took advantage of the distraction and again launched himself at the other man, catching him in the shoulder and sending them both into a stack of resin containers. Alisa wanted to rise up and see what was happening, but she wouldn’t risk moving Felix. She could hear boxes moving, noises of struggle, and a finally a low growl followed by a harsh cry. It sounded like a fatal blow. Swallowing hard, she lifted up the weapon, prepared to fire it on Ivar if he appeared.
To her utter joy, it was Mikel who approached her. He was dragging Offen by one heel, the other man’s body limp and leaking a thick trail of blood. Mikel was also wounded, bright red staining his hip and darkening the material covering his thigh.
With a grunt, he deposited the commander’s body next to Felix’s and held the gore-smeared blue knife out to her. “The final blow is for you, my Alisa.”
She stared up at him for a second, unable to process his statement. Taking a deep breath, he looked toward his enemy and frowned. “Ah, too late. He’s dead already.”
“Is it over?” Alisa stared at the dead man, his golden skin now a pale cream, his harsh features slack with faint, final surprise. The fatal wound seemed to be a large hole punched into his temple.
“Over for Ivar.” Mikel knelt down, heedless of the blood slowly leaking from his dead commander as he checked over his bondmate. “Felix improves.”
Relief filled her. It seemed the only emotions she’d been able to generate for the last hour were rage, fear, and now gratitude that her men would survive. But for how long?
“What will happen?” She made a gesture that took in all the dead men.
“A hearing, perhaps a tribunal. Don’t worry, Alisa. The truth will prevail. But it does seem we will be returning to Alpha much sooner than intended.” Now Mikel leaned her way and caught her gaze with his own. No longer was the fire of battle in his eyes, now it was just concern and focus on her. “Will you return with us?”
As if there was any doubt. “Of course I will. I want to give my testimony in person.”
“Is that all?” Mikel’s eyes narrowed as he rested one hand on Felix’s chest, over his bondmate’s heart. Before she could say more to prove her devotion, a voice echoed in the hangar and she jumped with fright, sure more of Ivar’s minions had arrived to avenge his loss. Instead, it was a thin Alphan flanked by two burlier ones, all wearing wet cloaks and surprised expressions.
“What has happened here?” the thin man asked, and Mikel rose to his feet with a slight groan of effort. He bowed his head, and Alisa realized this must be the prince her bondmates had escorted earlier. The royal walked closer, inspecting each fallen Alphan with a bemused expression as he passed the sprawled bodies. His escorts followed closely, their hands under their wet capes at what were surely weapons, ready for any sort of aggressive act towards their leader.
“Your Grace, we rescued our bondmate from mortal peril.”
“And eliminated many of my elite security forces in the process, it seems. Is that, ah, Commandant Offen, perchance?”
The prince poked one rain-slicked boot at the commander’s limp form.
“Yes, sir, it was trial by combat—”
“Prompted by this lady?” Now the royal’s eyes, surprisingly dark for an Alphan but full of wisdom, were locked on her, and Alisa’s breath froze in her chest. For an unprepossessing exterior, the man was riveting in his focus.
“Yes, our bondmate, Alisa Sorrel.”
“This man detained you with ill intentions?” The prince stared at her like he to want to read her mind as he gestured at the fallen man.
“Yes, he took me in his car here, had me tied up in that craft over there.” She gestured at the hover looming overhead. “And said he was going to leave me in a camp to die.”
“Why would a security commandant undertake such unethical and illegal behavior?”
“He said he wanted to keep me from Felix and Mikel, wanted to prevent an alien breeding with Alphans.” She knew she was stuttering and blushing. It felt strange to refer to herself as an alien, embarrassing to acknowledge that she’d had sex with men under this prestigious person’s command.
The prince’s elegantly shaped eyebrows swooped up, and Mikel grumbled under his breath. “Ah, one of those. Well, they may be troublesome, but there’s no turning back the tide—”
“Troublesome? He was set to murder her and had these others as willing accomplices.” Mikel’s interruption was met with the prince’s surprised head tilt and the two guard’s increased tension. The prince drew himself up and somehow managed to look down his nose at Mikel even though he was shorter by a quarter meter.
“It seems you set things to rights efficiently, Centurion Mikel of the Tauride. We’ll have to convene a hearing, but I can attest to your loyalty and quality of service. Your bondmate requires medical intervention. Herdon will stay and arrange all transport and security.”
With a quick gesture, the prince beckoned one of his men forward and instructed him to call for the royal physician to report immediately. The two men crouched down and shifted Felix’s body from her lap. One helped her to stand as the other pulled some sort of scanning device from his belt and began to check over her stirring bondmate. These men attending the prince clearly must be proficient in all the skills, from hand-to-hand combat to first aid, anything needed to protect their charge. Alisa reached for Mikel’s hand, heedless of the drying blood on his skin, and faced the prince.
“Thank you … your majesty.” She fumbled with the words, completely out of her depth with such matters of address.
“It is ‘Your Grace’, until I attain the throne.” The prince’s dark eyes were momentarily alight with what she hoped was humor. He studied her face for a moment, and she wondered how bruised and bloodied she was, if he noticed the straps still binding her ankles, but decided it didn’t matter. She’d fought for her men as hard as they’d fought for her. “Yes, I begin to see the appeal of human women. Best wishes to you, Alisa Sorrel. I hope you will soon be proud to call Alpha home.”
With that he inclined his head her way, then exited the hanger, one of his guards following as the other still attended to Felix. All the strength leached from her limbs, and she collapsed against Mikel’s side, a deep sigh of relief leaving her as his strong arms wrapped around her.
Epilogue
Close, but not as tight a cluster as he’d like to see at this stage of her training. Felix glanced over at Alisa as she lowered the phase pistol from regulation stance and peered through her polarized shooting glasses at the far-off target. They were practicing at the firing range he’d had installed at their new estate, and so far that morning her accuracy was in decline. He didn’t need to wonder why. Uncertainty was emanating from her in sad waves. They’d been in residence for three months, on Alpha for four, and he worried she was growing homesick for Earth now, once the newness and adjustments to life on her new planet had worn off.
Mikel hopped down from his perch in a shooting stand, scope in hand, and rushed to her side.
“You had less than sixty percent in the kill zone and last week were at just over seventy. Perhaps you are not adjusting to the slight breeze from the southeast?”
At his bondmate’s helpful advice, Alisa drew in a rough breath and then collapsed in tears, giant sobs wrenching through her body as she clu
tched at her head. Felix extracted the pistol from her hand and holstered it. It was set to mere laser pulse and fired no projectile, but caution was the watchword when it came to any weapon. Meanwhile, Mikel had gathered her up in his arms and was rocking her while making the soothing sounds they’d learned she liked.
“What ails you, my heart?” Felix wanted to get to the bottom of this. If he needed to arrange a trip back to Earth, or import some pet or goods to comfort her, he would do so immediately.
“Yes, you saw the doctor a few days ago. Was there something amiss?” Mikel eased the glasses away from her tear-stained face, and she sniffled, glancing from one of them to the other with reddened eyes. Felix had been worried when she’d suddenly asked for a physician familiar with human anatomy, but when she’d refrained from mentioning any sort of prognosis, he assumed she was healthy. Anxiety flared in his gut.
“I’m fine. Everything is functioning perfectly normally!” Her voice rose in a quaver, and she began to cry again, tears streaming down her face in such a display of grief that Felix was dumbstruck. She’d been so happy, so content to settle into their new home, see all the sights of Alpha, meet people, eager for sexual encounters whenever any of them had the inclination. His assumption that everything was perfect was shattered.
“Then why are you crying? Is it because your accuracy with the phase pistol declined over the last few days?” She’d assured them she wanted to become more proficient with weapons and self-defense, her recent brush with combat still fresh in all their minds. Perhaps her inner gentleness couldn’t bear the exposure to the harshness of simulated battle any longer.
“I have a lot on my mind,” Alisa whispered, blinking as she clutched at her belly.
“All the better reason to practice your shooting. It’s important to be able to focus despite any mental or physical distraction. Turn away from emotion and concentrate on your weapon, your breathing, and the target you wish to destroy,” Mikel said as he propped her up on the firing line, his hands firm on her slumping shoulders. She still cupped her hands against her abdomen, and the tickle of an idea entered Felix’s mind with warm anticipation.
