by Anna Carven
“Nagashuganagagosh.” That’s what the Ephrenian’s babbling sounded like. His arm shook. The point of his gun wavered. The guy in the corner was shouting something unintelligible at him.
Chaos.
Her guard tensed.
Oh no, he’s going to shoot!
Seph’s first instinct was to put her hand on his arm, to tell him to fucking stop—you’ll get us all killed!—but she was shackled.
In the blink of an eye, he pulled the trigger.
A deafening roar filled her ears.
Damn it! Seph stiffened as the lurid green flare of Ephrenian plasma lit up the room, momentarily blinding her. The idiot had actually pulled the trigger!
In these close quarters? She was no combat expert, but shit, what was he trying to do, get them all killed?
She blinked furiously as the haze cleared, the smell of ozone lingering in the air. The room had been warm before, but now it was uncomfortably hot.
In the corner, a figure moved. Wisps of smoke rose from his body, which was encased in sculpted black armor.
His outer layer—that ordinary looking space-armor, which disguised him as any old merc—was completely gone. The plasma blast must have obliterated it, burned it right off.
Somehow, he’d survived the full force of a close-ranged plasma blast.
Seph took a deep breath for the first time since the doors had closed. Holy crap! The air contained an acrid mixture of sulfur and ozone and something burned. She coughed.
The air moved.
No, it wasn’t the air that moved, but him. She yelped in fear as he rushed toward her, becoming a black blur. Surrounded by a halo of white smoke, he seemed more specter than man.
So fast! It took only a heartbeat for the Kordolian to reach her.
He went straight past Seph, going for her guard.
Before the Ephrenian’s plasma gun had time to recharge, the Kordolian knocked it out of his hand. It dropped to the floor with a metallic clatter. His other hand shot out, closing around the Ephreninan’s neck. “I warned you not to shoot,” he growled, shaking his head. “Why is everyone so reckless with their lives?”
Perhaps Seph was just imagining things, but was there a hint of exasperation in his voice? She couldn’t read his expression, because his face was hidden behind that intimidating black helm.
The Ephrenian choked. The Kordolian’s muscular arm flexed as he increased the pressure.
He’s going to kill him!
Unable to move, Seph looked on in horror. The Kordolian was big, powerful, and seemingly invincible. Now she understood why the Ephrenians had become so disorganized as soon as they’d caught sight of him.
He was a fucking monster.
And he wanted her.
If he decided to take her, there was nothing she could do.
Nothing.
Seph’s heart pummeled faster, faster, faster, wicked adrenaline coursing through her veins. She’d never experienced this kind of fear before in her life.
It was the knowledge that you were completely powerless. It was the realization that your life hung by a single slender thread, and the creature standing before you could crush you like a bug if he so desired.
“If you do as I say, I won’t kill you,” the Kordolian growled at the Ephrenian, ignoring Seph. He pointed to the corner, where the other alien stood, weaponless and too terrified to move. “Go and stand over there with him. I’m tired of playing. The next time either of you tries something stupid, my thirsty blade will kiss your throat.”
Predictably, the Ephrenian obeyed without a word of protest.
The Kordolian turned his attention to Seph.
Here we go.
She tried not to tremble.
For the first time in her short, unruly life, she had no words. What did you say to someone who had expressed a desire to buy you, especially when you had no idea what his true intentions were?
He stared at her through his dark-lensed visor, cocking his head slightly. Seph stared back, both fascinated and horrified. For someone who could move as fast as lightning, he sure could be damn still when he wanted.
Then, his helmet dissolved.
Seph prided herself on her knowledge of alien cultures. Compared to the average Earth citizen, she was remarkably well informed about the Universe and its various inhabitants. She read voraciously, devouring every new off-world briefing that reached her inbox.
But it was right then and there that she realized how little she actually knew about the world beyond Earth’s blue skies.
She did not understand how this alien’s armor—which had just survived a fucking plasma blast—could simply disappear like that, as if it were made of millions of tiny specks of black dust.
The particles melded with his skin as if they were being absorbed back into his body, and finally… finally, his face was revealed.
He squatted on his haunches, lowering himself so that he was looking up at her, rather than the other way around.
Seph blinked. Why would he do that? It was as if he was trying to diminish himself, to make himself appear less threatening.
“Hello, Persephone Winters.” To her absolute shock, he smiled—a broad, toothy, fangy, friendly smile. Seph usually disliked being called by her full name, but the way he said it—with that deep timbre; in that unique Kordolian accent—made it sound different, nice. The two sharp canines extending from his upper teeth gleamed in the dim light, giving him a predatory appearance. “I apologize for the rude introduction. I came to extract you from this mess.”
Crimson eyes crinkled. Silver cheeks were punctuated with the most surprising dimples. His long, aquiline nose wrinkled as smiled, transforming his face into something unexpectedly warm and wondrous.
Crowning that glorious contradiction of features was a shock of short, unruly hair that was as white as the pure driven snow. Seph was consumed with an irrational urge to run her fingers through that lush, chaotic mess.
It looked so soft… the only part of him that was the least bit soft.
“Th-thank you… I think.” She frantically tried to gather her composure. That was a rather difficult feat when one was face-to-face with a lethal Kordolian whose physical abilities—and presence—defied all logic. “Unless I’m highly mistaken, I’m pretty sure I’ve never met you before today. Why did you… come after me?”
“I wanted to,” he answered simply. “You didn’t deserve what they did to you. I don’t like that sort of betrayal.”
“No, I didn’t,” she grumbled, momentarily forgetting who she was speaking to. Despite his fearsome appearance, something about this guy’s answer put her at ease. “But if you know a little bit about my kind, you’ll know that we tend to do that sort of thing from time to time. That’s not unique to humans though, is it?”
“No.” His smile faded, and his expression turned solemn. The warmth drained from his features, and their shared moment—that sense of comfortable familiarity—disappeared.
Fear took the doubts in her mind and turned them into nightmares. One thing in particular bothered her. “What was that all about… when you said you wanted to buy me?”
A puff of air escaped the Kordolian’s lips as he closed his eyes, running a hand through his messy hair. He shook his head. “That bad, was it? Don’t worry, I don’t actually intend to buy you. Given the circumstances, it was the only thing I could think of; the only thing the Ephrenians would understand. I didn’t count on the pressure bomb. I should have anticipated it. I think I’ve become so used to getting my way that I got complacent. Sorry.”
Sorry? He was apologizing to her?
Now Seph was totally confused. She’d pegged him as a typical Kordolian—a vicious, bloodthirsty, conquering alien—but he’d just challenged all her expectations. Seph mentally berated herself for allowing a stereotype to influence her judgment. “You don’t have to… I mean, thank you for coming after me. Nobody else would have done that.”
He looked up, his crimson gaze clear and p
enetrating. For a moment, he held her in thrall with that piercing stare, his pale eyebrows lifting slightly. He opened his mouth as if to say something, shook his head slightly, then closed it again.
“You look uncomfortable,” he said instead, his voice becoming gentle. A long obsidian knife appeared in his right hand. “Let me remove those restraints.”
At the sight of the blade, Seph tensed. She couldn’t help it. It was a deep, primal reaction, an instinctive response to danger.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Persephone. The blade is the quickest way. I’ll be very careful. Promise.”
He rose to his full height, and suddenly Seph had a ringside seat to his magnificent, armor-encased body. Her pulse fluttered. Her breath caught. A warm, pleasant sensation spread through her lower belly.
Don’t ogle him, dumbass! This was like Stockholm syndrome on steroids, all because her savior/captor/whatever was a fucking swoon-worthy specimen.
Seph averted her eyes. She had to keep some objectivity here. He seemed decent enough, but she still wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted with her. Aliens didn’t go out of their way to rescue humans just because they were good Samaritans, did they?
“Can you stand?”
“Y-yeah.” Seph rose to her feet, a feat that was surprisingly difficult when one’s arms were bound.
“Turn around.” His deep murmur threatened to melt her insides. Shakily, she obeyed, turning to face the wall.
Armor-encased hands curled around her wrists. The seamless black layer of his armor-gloves felt strange against her skin. They were… not quite soft, and not quite hard. Silky, and yet rough. Warm, yet detached.
And they seemed to move with his skin, almost as if they were a living thing, a symbiote.
No fucking way.
The warrior hooked his thumb under the soft material around her right wrist. Shik. His blade made barely a sound as it sliced through. With a feather-light touch, he did the same with her left wrist.
Like a knife through butter. How sharp was the damn thing?
The Ephrenian restraints dropped to the floor with a soft plop. Seph swung her arms around, sighing in relief. Her shoulders ached, but she was free.
She turned to face her rescuer, reflexively pulling her travel cloak tighter so it covered her body. As she did so, her hood slipped back, revealing her hair.
The Kordolian’s eyes widened a fraction, but he quickly masked his surprise.
Yeah, I know, buddy. It seemed it wasn’t just on Earth that she was an oddity. Even when it was tightly bound atop her head, her curly red hair made her stand out wherever she went. It was both her curse and her blessing, but despite the attention it drew, Seph had never been tempted to change it.
It was who she was. Besides, with her complexion and her freckles, she’d look ridiculous rocking any color other than her natural Titian red.
So now she would be a space oddity, alongside her dark, dangerous savior, whose smile was as brilliant as the morning sun on Earth.
“So… where do we go from here?” Seph glanced at the two Ephrenians, who stared at them from the corner of the room. Weaponless and helpless, their body language betrayed their silent fear. The Kordolian ignored them.
“I’m not entirely sure,” he murmured, his gaze lingering on Seph, his eyes tracing the contours of her face. He studied her in the most intense manner, not bothering to hide his curiosity. “You’re a long way from home, human.”
“So are you, Kordolian.” Seph blurted the words before she could think, feeling a little defensive. Perhaps it was because deep down, she knew their mission had been poorly planned.
How embarrassing.
“My name is Torin,” he offered, his eyes narrowing. “I might be far from home, but the difference is, I can take care of myself. You humans, on the other hand…” A bitter laugh escaped him. “Did you really know what you were walking into on Zarhab Groht?”
“It was a risk we were willing to take.”
“For a bunch of second-rate plasma weapons?”
“You’re not the only species in the Nine Galaxies that has the right to own plasma guns. If we don’t modernize our weapons capabilities, we’re practically sitting ducks.”
“Sitting ducks…” His brow furrowed. “As in helpless?”
“Yes.” Seph blinked, realizing she’d hit him with a distinctly human analogy. Did he even know what a duck was? But somehow, he understood.
“Why should you feel helpless? The human-Kordolian protection treaty is in place. What need do you have to arm yourselves with plasma when you have us?”
That’s just too much of a power imbalance, if you ask me. Seph didn’t dare speak her mind, though. Although the warrior’s easy manner had put her off guard, she was still wary of him. “It might seem trivial to you, but having the ability to protect ourselves is important to us.”
“Oh, I know. I had a look at Earth’s history. You humans are actually quite a warlike people, but you have us now.”
“Warlike? This coming from a Kordolian?”
Torin laughed. The sound seemed all the more surreal—and amazing—because of how unexpected it was. Rich, deep, and laced with delicious irony—that was just the way she liked it.
No, no, you’re not going to fall for this just because the man has a nice way about him. Seph mentally kicked herself. Perhaps the shock and terror of being sold and abducted had made her a little bit delirious.
And in that instant, Torin’s face changed.
It turned into a terrifying mask; vicious, cold, and utterly alien. “Persephone, don’t move.”
Before she could speak, he became a blur. A blade appeared. Someone—the Ephrenian—crashed into his side. Torin spun. He was everywhere at once, creating a storm of violence around her.
A body flew, smashing into the wall. A slender Ephrenian arm reached for a plasma gun. Torin’s sword moved in a silent, almost invisible arc.
A scream of agony split the air. Warm green liquid sprayed across Seph’s arms, shoulders, and face. She coughed as a strong chemical smell invaded her nose and throat.
Blood! Freezing in horror, she realized what the viscous substance was.
Screams became howls. Something clattered onto the hard metal floor. There was a thud, a whoosh, a bam. Without warning, the doors opened, and Seph didn’t get a chance to hold her breath.
Breathing in a lungful of toxic air, she gasped and wheezed.
“Naaktakaa,” Torin roared, sounding furious. The word was obviously Ephrenian, but Seph had no idea what it meant.
She doubled over. Her chest felt like it was about to burst. As she coughed some more, her throat seized up.
What the hell is happening?
From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of her Ephrenian guard as he escaped through the doorway, leaving behind a trail of viscous green blood. He seemed to be missing an… arm.
Oh my god!
Blade in hand, Torin crossed the floor in two long strides, preparing to give chase. He paused at the threshold, glancing over his shoulder.
He took one look at Seph, spun on his heel, and rushed to her side.
The doors slammed shut.
A broad hand rested against her upper back. “It’s all right, Persephone. Slow down. Take a deep breath. Breathe.”
“Ooooh…” Great shuddering gasps racked Seph’s body. She stared at the floor, trying to focus.
For the first time, she noticed the body.
The other guard.
“H-he’s dead,” she said absently, sounding oddly calm and detached. A small crack in the Ephrenian’s helmet revealed a patch of deep green skin. “You killed him. Wh-what happened?”
Her thoughts slowed, trickling through her mind like sands falling through an hourglass. In the span of less than a few hours, her life had spun out of control, and she was completely powerless to change her fate.
And now one of her captors had just been killed before her very eyes, and she didn’t understand how or why
or what the fuck had just happened.
This terrifying new world… it moved too fast for her.
You’d better catch up soon, sweetheart, or you’re not going to survive this place.
“They didn’t listen to me.” Torin stroked his fingers up and down her back, his touch gentle and reassuring. He sighed. “Why is everybody in the outer sectors so obtuse? I told them not to move, but still they tried to attack me from behind. If somebody moves against me like that, I’m hard-wired to react. Tch. They should have known better.”
Seph stared down at the fallen Ephrenian as the Kordolian rubbed her back with the gentle touch of a killer.
Her breaths came in deep, shuddering gasps. A vise clamped around her chest, squeezing tighter and tighter until her throat closed up.
“Breathe.”
A stranger was comforting her.
She focused on the rhythm of Torin’s movements; the gentle back and forth of his hand… not too rough, not too fast, not too firm.
A stranger was comforting her, and his touch felt good.
“Breathe.”
She closed her eyes and inhaled. The air was stale, but not toxic like before.
It took a while for her breathing to return to normal. All the while, the lethal Kordolian remained by her side, waiting patiently until she was able to rise.
At last, she stood, leaning back a little to stretch out her stiff, aching back.
Torin moved just a little bit closer. She became acutely aware of how broad and solid his chest was. Seph the woman idly wondered what he looked like underneath all that form-fitting armor.
“Persephone, I’m not a threat to you. I understand that all of this must be so horrible and confronting for you right now, but I want you to know that I’m going to get you out of here.”
At six feet tall, Seph wasn’t a small woman, but she still had to look up to meet Torin’s gaze. She took a deep breath, trying to piece together her fragile self-control. It would be so easy to give in and embrace those old self-destructive feelings—anger, hopelessness, self-loathing—but she couldn’t do that when this man was trying to save her.
Stop it, Persephone Winters. Pull yourself together.
