Taming Chaos (Darkstar Mercenaries Book 1)

by Anna Carven

  “We’re practically stuck in here,” she said quietly, trying to make sense of the situation. “There’s no breathing support. I can’t imagine going out there… into that toxic environment.” A terrible thought struck her. “If they wanted to, they could just shut off the oxygen.”

  “They won’t do that.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “You’re their payday.”

  “A rare and valuable specimen,” she quipped. “I don’t understand why. I’m just an ordinary human. Not exactly Miss Universe.”

  “Who’s that? Another of your Virtu-Real stars?”

  His quizzical expression almost made Seph laugh. Almost, but not quite. Someone had just been killed right before her very eyes, so she probably wouldn’t be able to laugh again for a few days… or weeks. “It’s just an Earth saying. Miss Universe is a term we use to describe an extremely beautiful woman. A few hundred years ago, it was an actual event.”

  “I disagree.”

  “Believe me, Miss Universe happened. You can pull up old footage on Earth’s Networks.”

  “I’m not talking about that.” Red eyes roamed over her face, lingering for a moment on her neck and lips before meeting her gaze. “You are a Miss Universe, and your uniqueness makes you valuable. I know my people, Persephone. They love rare things. The rarer the acquisition, the higher the perceived status of the owner.”

  “Your people… wait, you’re saying the one who wants me is Kordolian?”

  Torin nodded, his expression becoming grim. “I can guarantee it.”

  If Seph hadn’t known anything about him, the look on his face just then would have turned the blood in her veins to ice, but the silent promise of death in his eyes wasn’t meant for her.

  Amazing, how things could get so complicated so fast.

  Can I really trust you, Torin?

  What was that saying?

  Better the devil you know.

  A devil who had just likened her to Miss Universe.

  If that had been intentional, then he was one sly devil.

  The tips of her ears became warm, and Seph realized the same flush was probably spreading across her cheeks. Damn it! Sometimes, her face went red. Embarrassment, anger, or even too much wine could do it. It was an annoying fact of life.

  She hastily pulled up the hood of her cloak, self-consciously hiding her ears. “So, Kordolian, how are we going to do this?”

  Torin frowned. “I need to think on it,” he answered. “There’s a word you humans have for a situation like this. What is it again? Ah, stalemate. In Kordolian, we call it nakurathi: ‘Your blade at my neck, my blade at yours.’”

  “But nobody’s holding a blade to your neck.”

  “No, but we’re stuck. The atmospheric air of this ship only supports Ephrenian life. I can survive out there for short periods of time, but you can’t.” He frowned. “Somehow, I need to convince them to turn around and return to Zarhab Groht.”

  “What’s stopping you, then? I’ve just seen you survive a close-range plasma blast.” The un-reality of it all still hadn’t completely sunk in. Who the hell was this seemingly indestructible warrior, who possessed abilities far beyond her comprehension, and where had he come from? He’d dropped into her life like some sort of dark guardian angel, and the scholar in Seph was dying to unravel his truth.

  Torin raised his eyebrows, a look of consternation crossing his handsome features. “Yes, that’s true. This cursed body of mine can survive all sorts of things, but you can’t, and I’m not leaving your side.”

  It occurred to her that his hand was still on her back, his muscular arm curving around her right side, almost embracing her, but not quite.

  A wicked little shiver coursed through her, because deep down, she couldn’t deny that he was magnificent.

  Seph stared at the Kordolian in shock, noting the appealing curve of his lips, the sharp points of his ears, the wicked curves of his snow-white brows. His features screamed predator, but right now his expression was earnest, contrite, and almost… cute.

  Seph didn’t bat his arm away. She didn’t recoil from his touch. She didn’t argue with him, and that was unusual, because she usually found a reason to argue with everyone.

  This time, she just nodded. “Okay.”

  There was nothing else to do. The Universe was against her, and her only sliver of hope came in the form of a silver alien named Torin, who was stirring some very strange emotions within her.

  Although it wasn’t her primary area of expertise, she’d studied a little bit about Kordolian culture. She thought she had a fair idea of what the former Rulers of the Universe were all about, but this man was nothing like what the textbooks described.

  Well, he was as vicious as they came, but she hadn’t expected him to be so damn nice, too.

  Chapter Five

  Torin was at war with himself.

  If he were to distill the situation down to its most basic elements, he would say he was trapped inside a box with a dead Ephrenian and a spectacular human.

  And unfortunately, she was still afraid of him.

  He got it. He’d killed an Ephrenian right before her very eyes, and she’d seen everything.

  What was he supposed to have done? The fools had tried to attack him from behind, one lunging for the fallen plasma gun on the floor while the other tried to distract him.

  As always, Torin’s body had moved of its own volition, and before he realized it, his blade had pierced the Ephrenian’s neck.

  What was it the military grunts said behind their backs?

  Got a death-wish? There isn’t a surer way to die than to try and sneak up on a First Division warrior.

  Now the alien’s body lay in the corner, cold and lifeless. He wished he could place it out in the corridor for the Ephrenians to collect, but they controlled the automated doors, and Torin didn’t dare mess with the controls or cut through the metal.

  He couldn’t risk an oxygen leak. She wouldn’t survive if the cabin air went bad.

  Kaiin’s Hells!

  This whole situation was infuriating.

  Seeing the fear on Persephone’s face, he’d allowed the other Ephrenian to escape. It went against all his training, but Torin had been in enough battles to know when he could make the call, and he’d decided then and there that her welfare was more important than teaching the foolish guard a lesson.

  As he studied her face now, he realized it had been the right thing to do.

  The stark terror melted from her eyes, replaced by a quiet wariness. He could sense the intelligence lurking there, and he wondered what she really thought of him.

  “Hold still,” he said quietly, taking the edge of her voluminous cloak between his fingers. “May I?”

  She nodded, going very still.

  “Just need to get it off before it dries.” Torin lifted the fabric to her face and began to gently wipe away the Ephrenian blood splattered across her cheek and the bridge of her nose.

  Thank the Goddess it hadn’t gone near her lips or in her eyes. It had stained her cloak too, but there was nothing he could do about that. At least her cloak was black, so the bloodstains wouldn’t show.

  This was his mess. It was only fitting that he should be the one to clean it up.

  With the fabric clasped between his fingers, Torin made small strokes, tracing over the slight bend in her nose, over the generous curve of her cheek and the strong angle of her jaw.

  A stray curl of hair escaped from beneath the hood of her cloak, teasing him with its crimson brilliance.

  His cock stirred, and it took all of his self control to keep a straight face.

  It was little wonder the Ephrenians had been so desperate to secure this magnificent female for their client. She was everything a full-blooded Kordolian male could possibly dream of. His gaze flicked downward. Although her body was hidden beneath her cloak, he could still make out the round swell of her breasts and the generous curves of her hips.

  In his
short time on Earth, Torin had seen many gorgeous females of the human species. They were a fantastically diverse race, and he’d come to appreciate their beauty in all its hues, shapes, and sizes.

  Still, he had his preferences, and Miss Winters fit all of them. He’d never seen a more perfect human being in his life.

  Honestly, what were the chances that he’d encounter such a stunning woman on filthy Zarhab Groht? Sometimes, he suspected the Goddess herself must be playing a grand old game with him.

  “Nearly done,” he whispered, dabbing at a particularly stubborn speck of blood below her right eye. Red eyelashes fluttered, and for some reason, that tiny movement sent his cock into overdrive.

  The savage in him wanted to tear her cloak off so he could view her in all her voluptuous glory.

  No. Her cloak was her only sanctuary in this wretched place. She held it around her as if it could shield her from the horrors of the Universe; a familiar comfort in a merciless world. There was no way he was going to take it from her. He couldn’t do anything to jeopardize her fragile trust.

  Small steps, fool.

  She could not learn of his arousal, not yet. Perhaps when things were more settled, when the danger had passed, when he had succeeded in extracting her from this infernal problem, then there would be time to explore this… unexpected development.

  But right now, they were trapped in a box with the vast depths of space on one side, and the toxic air of the Ephrenian ship on the other.

  What could he do but wait for the Ephrenians to show their hand?

  He wiped the last speck of blood off her soft, dewy skin, savoring the intimacy of the action. “All gone,” he reassured her. “Sorry I can’t do anything about your cloak.”

  “One of the things they don’t tell you about space is that there aren’t any hot showers out here,” she muttered, putting on a brave face. “That’s the first thing I’m going to do when I get back to Earth. Take a nice long hot shower.”

  An image flashed into Torin’s mind of her naked under a torrent of water, her pale skin slick with moisture, her brilliant red hair wet and plastered against her face.

  The Persephone in his imagination turned and winked at him.

  Torin nearly choked. He took a deep breath and bit down on his lower lip, his fangs sinking into the soft flesh. Bitter blood filled his mouth, distracting him from his maddening thoughts.

  Her scent—rich, sweet, spicy musk—filled his nostrils.

  Torin let fabric of her cloak slip from his grasp. He stepped back.

  Focus, idiot!

  He placed his hands behind his back and averted his eyes, not trusting himself to act civilized. He was no stranger to temptation, but never had he experienced anything quite as intense as this.

  “I smell that bad, huh?” Her tone was laced with irony as she misinterpreted his silence. It was both familiar and self-deprecating, and oddly, Torin wanted to join in and tease her.

  You smell amazing. I could devour you.

  “Sooner or later, the Ephrenians will have to deliver you to their customer,” he said instead, changing the subject. “They will want to extract you, but they can’t.”

  “Because of you.”

  Torin nodded sharply. “I don’t trust them, though. Ephrenians take pride in their…” he searched for the right word.

  “Duplicity,” she finished. “Deceit is an art-form to them. That’s why I asked NA for the extra guards; why I warned Markov to be careful. But what would I know? I’m just an academic.” She shook her head, her lips twisting wryly. “They never fucking listen.”

  “You read my mind. Your colleague got greedy and played right into their hands.”

  “I don’t know if Markov even ended up securing the plasma weapons.” She laughed bitterly. “Part of me hopes he walked out of there empty-handed, without me or the product. They’ll demote his ass so far down the food chain he won’t see sunlight for a decade.”

  Torin snorted, sharing her sentiment. Given the circumstances, he had to admire her spirit. She’d been betrayed, abducted, imprisoned, and had just seen him kill an Ephrenian in the blink of an eye, and yet she wasn’t cowed.

  She was funny, sarcastic, and brave.

  I could spend a long time getting to know you, human. I could take you on a slow ‘date’, one where we would dress nicely and go somewhere special… on Earth, of course. We would talk and eat and watch the stars appear in the darkening skies above, and I would drink my fill of you, over and over again.

  Persephone dragged him back into the present. “So how are we going to convince the Ephrenians to… whoa!”

  The chamber shook. Torin’s hand shot out as Winters overbalanced. He grabbed her upper arm, steadying her. A loud metallic scraping noise filled the room.

  Torin shifted on the balls of his feet as the cabin swayed. His finely honed sense of balance told him they were moving.

  Behind them, the lifeless body of the Ephrenian rolled and flopped around. Torin moved so that it was out of Persephone’s line of sight.

  “Wh-what’s happening?”

  “The chamber is moving,” he said softly.

  “How is that even possible?”

  “I’m guessing this is some sort of detachable live cargo container.”

  “So we’re being offloaded?”

  “Ejected would be my guess. Sometimes cargo is left for the customer to pick up at floating waypoints in space. The Ephrenians must have decided they’ve got no choice but to deliver both of us.”

  Torin suspected the Ephrenians hadn’t informed their client that he was inside. Whoever was on the receiving end was in for a nasty surprise.

  Boom. There was a soft pop in his ears as the pressure changed, and then his feet started to lose contact with the floor.

  The internal gravity was dropping.

  Persephone gasped as she floated up toward the ceiling.

  “They’ve ejected us,” Torin informed her. Being familiar with the sensation of weightlessness, he grasped her wrist and pulled her toward the wall, where there were a series of metal protrusions—hooks of some sort. He grabbed one of them and pulled her close. “Hold on here.”

  “Th-thanks.” She breathed a sigh of relief as she grasped one of the protrusions with both hands and held on tightly, her knuckles growing white. “I’m not so good with heights.”

  Not really understanding what she meant, Torin glanced over his shoulder. “I’m going to secure the…” Corpse. The dead Ephrenian floated in mid-air. “You don’t have to watch.”

  “O-okay.”

  Torin gently disengaged and drifted toward the weightless body.

  Part of the Ephrenian’s face was visible through his cracked helmet. A brief stab of remorse coursed through Torin as he contemplated his actions.

  Death walked in his shadow, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t spare a moment to think of the life he’d taken.

  “May the Goddess grant you peace in the afterlife,” he whispered under his breath, so softly that Winters couldn’t hear. Torin wasn’t a religious man. He didn’t necessarily believe in the Kaiin and the Goddess and their mythical underworld, but he often invoked the spirits to express certain feelings.

  He grabbed the weightless Ephrenian, gently kicking off the wall to propel himself toward a bank of seating to the left. He slipped the alien’s ankles into the gap between two seats, turning the body so the feet acted as an anchor against gravity.

  The Ephrenian’s body was already going cold.

  It was crude, but it was all he could do for now. Perhaps he could give his victim a dignified send-off later, but he suspected that wouldn’t be possible.

  When they finally docked—if they docked—he feared he was going to have to do a lot of fighting.

  “Hey, Torin,” Persephone said, turning to face him. Her husky voice resonated deep within his bones. She clung to the wall, her legs crossed, the edges of her cloak rippling lazily around her. Torin caught a view of her toned calves. Encased in
high black boots that formed a second skin, they were round and powerful, tapering to shapely ankles.

  He’d never seen anything quite so erotic in his life.

  That tantalizing glimpse was a promise of what lay beneath her voluminous cloak.

  “What is it, Persephone?”

  “Seph,” she corrected. “That’s what everyone calls me… everyone who knows me, anyway.” The fear melted from her face just a little bit more, softening her sharp edges. Torin got the feeling this invitation to call her by her short name was important somehow.

  “Ah. Seph.” He liked both forms of her name.

  “It’s getting ridiculously cold in here. I hope whoever’s coming to get us arrives soon.” A puff of mist escaped her pink lips.

  Of course. Humans are sensitive to cold. Torin recalled how the temperature on Earth could drop fast after the sun disappeared over the horizon. The humans would quickly don a thick outer layer of clothing, much in the manner of the various slave-races that resided on Kythia.

  “We’re in space now.” He drifted across to her, grabbing one of the wall-hooks. “It’s probably going to get a lot colder before we’re picked up. Do you have adequate thermal protection?”

  “For now.” She shrugged. “I’m just going to hang here and hibernate.”

  Absurdly, he wanted to wrap himself around her and lend her some of his own warmth.

  Kordolians were impervious to the cold, and Torin was no different to his brethren in that he liked near-freezing temperatures.

  That was why he’d failed to immediately recognize Seph’s predicament. For Torin, the more the temperature dropped, the more it felt like home.

  You have a lot to learn about humans yet, fool.

  Was this how it had been for General Tarak and the other mated warriors when they had met their mates?

  He moved closer to Seph, angling his body so they were almost touching, but not quite. “We wait,” he agreed, trying to ignore the insistent, almost painful pressure of his arousal. “And when they come, no matter what happens, just remember that I am on your side.”

  There was a pause as she studied him, taking a moment to digest his words.