by Susan Hayes
It all came together in an instant. Those eyes. That name. She knew this man. Well, she knew of him, and she barely managed to hide her shock beneath an impassive mask. Their captor was Lily’s half-brother. The poor girl would be devastated when she found out her family was involved.
Unless she already knows…
Hanna dismissed the thought the moment it appeared. There was no way Lily would be part of anything so vile as the Humanity First movement. They represented everything Hanna and her team were fighting against.
“I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but, well, given the circumstances…” she raised her hands to gesture around them and then lapsed into silence.
“Mr. Ashton, may I speak?” Jet interjected.
She glanced over at Jet. He was still standing, flanked on either side by two men wearing the same style of clothing as their leader, and they both looked shabby compared to the Pyrosian. Even bound and hooded, Jet projected an aura of quiet confidence that she would have found attractive if their situation wasn’t so freaking dire.
He was standing at something like parade rest, though his arms were in the wrong position, and his voice was steady and firm. She was impressed. Either he was fearless, or he was a better actor than she would ever be.
“No, you may not. The humans are talking right now.” Ashton turned his attention back to her, his expression predatory. “Where were we?”
“You were going to tell me what happens now,” she prompted, trying to keep her voice soft.
“Indeed. It’s simple enough. I want two prisoners released, and I’m willing to trade the two of you for them. As we speak, arrangements are being made to contact your people and start the process.”
“But there are four hostages,” Jet spoke before she could.
“You were not given permission to speak.” John nodded to his men, and one of them cuffed Jet across the face. “I need you in one piece, but I won’t let that stop me from correcting your manners while you’re here.”
To his credit, Jet took the blow without flinching or uttering a sound, but she knew it had to hurt. She spoke up, hoping to distract their captors from Jet. “Please, Mr. Ashton. Lily is just my personal assistant. She has no value as a hostage, and releasing her might go a long way to proving your intentions.”
“I’m not releasing anyone. Your assistant has already proven her worth, and the second alien might prove useful. The two of you are too valuable to risk injuring, but the other one…well, if the authorities balk at my demands, I’ll have a hostage I can use to demonstrate my intentions.”
Her stomach curdled. These were fanatics driven by fear and hate. They wouldn’t hesitate to hurt or even kill Vykor if they thought it would advance their cause. She didn’t know what to make of his comment about Lily. Was he deliberately trying to sow distrust?
Lily wasn’t in contact with anyone from her family apart from her mother. Her brother was an asshole, just like their father had been.
Ashton hummed in satisfaction as another thought occurred to him. “The other alien will also do nicely as a whipping boy. If either of you cause problems, he’ll pay the price. Do you both understand?”
“I understand,” she and Jet replied at the same time.
“Good. My men are going to escort you to your cell now. Do not speak to anyone. Don’t make trouble. If everything goes to plan, you’ll only be my guests until tomorrow.”
It wasn’t long before Jet was pushed through a doorway of some kind. Rough hands pulled off the hood, and he stumbled forward a few steps, barely stopping himself before he smacked into a metal wall. The only light came from the door he’d come through, but he could see well enough to watch as Hanna walked through another door to his left. It took his scrambled senses a few seconds to notice the bars between them.
“A shipping container?” Hanna queried as she looked around. “This is where you’re holding us?”
“It’s not so bad. You got a bed, a toilet, and privacy. Hold out your hands.” A big, rough-looking male stepped into view. He was holding a blade, and when Hanna tentatively held out her hands, he cut away the plastic straps that bound her arms and wrists.
“What privacy?” she asked, gesturing around the small space. Each cell was less than three meters wide and maybe three meters across, small enough he could cross the length of his cell in three long strides.
“We put up a curtain, so the alien freak can’t stare at you while you’re sleeping or nothing.” The male nodded to a lightweight length of fabric hanging by the bars of Hanna’s cell. It could be run along a piece of string to divide their cells, but neither the string nor the fabric was sturdy enough to do anything with.
“Shut up, you idiot. We’re not supposed to talk to them,” another male appeared at the door to his cell, his face screwed up with the effort of trying to pull the heavily barred door across the doorway. Like everything else in the cell, the door appeared to be hastily put together, and it stuck in its track. He was tempted to give the male a hand just to be contrary, but he resisted the urge. Anything he did to upset these males might be taken out on Vykor. He couldn’t risk it, so instead he watched the male struggle with the cell door in silence.
This male was young, with a patchy beard and acne, and the gun belt he wore was too big for him. It was canted over one hip, the combined weight of the gun and holster slowly dragging the male’s pants down to his ankles. Where were they recruiting, the local education centers?
“Just telling the lady she doesn’t have to be gawked at.” The male on Hanna’s side retorted.
“Thank you.” Hanna flashed the male a smile.
“Welcome.” He actually blushed as he retreated from the cell, clearly overwhelmed by that small amount of female attention.
“Hold out your hands.” The lanky youth said to Jet. He was holding a boxcutter and gestured for Jet to move closer. He put his hands through the bars, wincing as the youth hacked through the plastic straps binding him. Jet held his breath and stayed perfectly still until it was done. He already had a lingering headache, bruised ribs, and another bruise forming on his jaw—he didn’t need to add more injuries to the list.
By the time his bonds were gone, Hanna’s cell door was shut and their guards moved on. He took a quick glance through the bars of his door and caught sight of the two males standing guard about ten meters away. They stood facing each other, level with what Jet estimated were the ends of their converted container. It gave them an overlapping view of the cell area and made sure there were no blind spots around them. What it didn’t allow them was a direct view of their prisoners. Maybe he could take advantage of that.
“How’s your jaw?” Hanna asked, her voice soft but steady.
“Just bruised.” He stepped back from the door in time to see her tap a disk on the wall. It immediately started to glow. He found one on his side and activated it. Together, they cast enough light to illuminate their surroundings, such as they were.
“Ugh. Guess the budget didn’t allow for indoor plumbing.” Hanna wrinkled her nose in distaste and gestured to the back corner of her cell.
There was a small, beige, boxy object sitting there. It took him a few seconds to recognize what it was. A primitive toilet. He had one in his cell, too. There was a roll of toilet paper and a packet of hand wipes on the floor beside it. The only other furniture they had was a metal bunk that appeared to be welded to the back wall. There was a thin mattress set atop it, along with an equally thin-looking blanket.
“You’re amazing,” he told her, and he meant it. He’d known trained soldiers who wouldn’t be as calm as she was right now.
She gave him a startled look. “What? Why? All I’ve managed to do today was get taken hostage. Believe me, you’re not seeing me at my best.”
He walked over to the bars that separated them and leaned up against them. “Why? Because we’ve been kidnapped and tossed in a cell, and you’re cracking jokes about our captors’ budget. Because you went face to face with the l
eader of a terrorist group and never showed a second’s weakness. You’re incredible.”
She laughed, though there wasn’t much humour in her voice. “Sadly, this is not my first time being kidnapped.”
It was unfathomable to him that the males of this world could put their females at risk the way they did. His species was on the brink of extinction because there weren’t enough females, and there were parts of this planet where females were treated as lesser beings with no rights and no value. Even the males who had taken them hostage were treating her as if she were nothing more than a bargaining chip.
And it was his fault she was here.
“I’m sorry this happened. We failed to protect you and your people.” He turned to face her, fingers gripping the bars that separated them. “I will do everything I can to protect you from whatever happens next.”
“This doesn’t all fall on your shoulders.” She walked to him, her eyes solemn and sad. “Your driver might be with these men, but John Ashton has a connection to someone in my camp, too. I’m certain he’s related to Lily, which means that somehow, my assistant is involved, though I have to believe she’s involved unwittingly. We both have a share of the blame. We’ll just have to find our way out of this together.” She brushed her fingers over his, and a brilliant blue spark arced between them, making both of them jump.
She stared at her hand and then looked up at him with a look of utter disbelief that matched what he was feeling.
“Was that what I think it was?” she asked, her words barely a whisper.
“I…uh. I think so.” The Spark. A sign from the Gods themselves that they were mates. It couldn’t be, but…it had to be. Hanna was his true mate. Flames, what were the Gods thinking?
“Here? Now? You?” Hanna’s shock mirrored his own.
He reached through the bars to take her hand. “Here. Now. Us.”
Chapter Three
Mated? Oh, no, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. Hanna stared at Jet and then dropped her gaze to their joined hands. Shit.
“How?” she blurted out with all the awkwardness of a teenage girl trying to talk to her first crush.
Jet shrugged and tightened his grip on her hand. “Blame the Gods. It’s what I’m going to do.”
“I don’t believe in any gods.” After the things she’d seen, the cruelty and suffering she’d witnessed, she’d lost faith. If there was a higher power, how could they allow these atrocities to happen to innocent people?
“It would appear the Gods of my world have interfered in your life, whether you believe in them or not. You are my true mate, Hanna Dewan. Which makes me a very fortunate male.”
She tugged her hand out from under his and stepped back from the bars. “You call this fortunate? We’re prisoners.” Her voice cracked a little, and she paused, forcing herself to lower her voice before she attracted the attention of the guards outside. The last thing she wanted was for one of them to overhear that she might be mated to an alien. Which she couldn’t be.
Could she?
Jet turned to face her, his blue eyes fixed on her face. “We’re prisoners, yes. And that’s the only reason I found you. If we were at the embassy right now, we’d be making polite small talk and working on a way to bring your dream to fruition. We’d never have this moment. We would have never touched, and never initiated the Spark.”
His words moved her, but they didn’t change the facts. They were in danger, locked away from the world and each other. They couldn’t do anything about the Spark even if they wanted to, and she wasn’t sure he truly wanted this. He’d been raised to accept that the Spark meant he’d found his mate, and that was supposed to be a great thing, but she couldn’t be what he wanted. She was older than he was. She couldn’t have kids. The only part of her that hadn’t started to sag or soften was her mind. “I’m not sure finding each other was a good thing.”
Jet gripped the bars that separated them tight enough his fingers whitened. “Why would you say that?”
“You want a list? For starters, we’re not even in the same cell. If this is really happening, then the only way to ease the effects of the Scorching is if” —she blushed and gestured to him and then her—“we get together. Tough to do when there are steel bars between us. No togetherness means the Scorching is going to make it next to impossible for us to think clearly, and we’re only going to survive this mess by being smart. Then there’s the whole us thing. You’re an attractive young male, and I’m a middle-aged woman. I can’t possibly be what you want.”
“You find me attractive.” He grinned and loosened his hold on the bars. “That’s a good start.”
She almost laughed. “Out of everything I just said, that’s your takeaway? Really?”
“I heard every word you said, my tani. And you’re right about almost everything. The bars, our situation, the danger. But you’re wrong about one very important thing.” He reached through the bars, hand out, palm up. “I was impressed by your intelligence and commitment before we ever met. You are lovely, determined, and brave. Why wouldn’t I want you?”
Her thoughts scattered like dust motes in sunshine. He thought she was lovely? Most men only thought that until she started speaking. Then they’d describe her differently. Intense. Single-minded. Driven. Stubborn. Cold. And those men were the same age as her. Jet was… “How old are you?”
“In Earth years? Thirty-five or so.”
She’d guessed right. There was a decade between them. “You’re too young for me.”
He smiled again and damned if it didn’t make her traitorous heart beat a little faster. “Apparently, the Gods think otherwise.”
“Your Gods are insane, and if you’re good with this then I’ve got some doubts as to your mental state, too.”
He chuckled, then wriggled his fingers in a come-closer gesture. “I’m more than good with this. You are my tani, my treasure, and I will protect you with my dying breath.”
She took his hand before she knew what she was doing, and he drew her back to him with a slow, steady pull. Her heart pounded, and her thoughts raced in an incoherent whirl so unlike her usual careful, deliberate calm. It was unsettling, and at the same time, intoxicating.
“You should be with someone your own age. Your own species. My work is here, I’m not leaving Earth. I can’t.” she was babbling now, trying to make him see why this wasn’t right. Why they couldn’t happen, though the closer she got to him, the harder it was to remember all the reasons it wasn’t a good idea.
He grimaced slightly. “I came to Earth to get away from my family and the entire planet. I have no intention of going back there if I can help it. My life is here now. Why would I return?”
“Because that’s what your species does. Take women from my world and move them to yours. That’s the whole point, isn’t it?”
“Finding mates for my people is my purpose. Finding you…” He drew her in close to the bars, pressing his face between them to steal a gentle kiss from her. “Finding you was a surprise. I’m here to help both our species find their way toward our shared goals. Perhaps the Gods think I needed someone to help me do that. Someone like you.”
As his lips touched hers, she gave herself a second’s reprieve from reality. One brief, glorious moment where she could pretend that this handsome, charming man was actually hers. “Maybe.”
He knew Hanna didn’t really believe they were mates. Not yet. He was still trying to come to grips with that fact himself, and he was Pyrosian. The Spark and what it heralded had been part of his life since childhood. He just never expected to experience it. There were no mates for him on Pyros, and he’d been too busy trying to make a place for himself on Earth to even consider looking for one here. And yet, here she was. His mate.
This changed everything. His work here might be focused on bringing prospective mates and children to his homeworld, but he’d never wanted children of his own. It was one of the reasons he was here, where his parents couldn’t harp at him day after day about
his duty to find a mate and procreate. The last thing he wanted was to create more lives for his father to manipulate. Would Hanna want children? As an ambassador, would he be allowed to get away without having them now he had a mate? Would the Gods betray him that way? He hoped not.
He let go of Hanna’s hand and reached for her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer. The bars were in his way, but he ignored them, needing to feel her soft body against his. Her scent filled his lungs, and the sweet taste of her lips exploded on his tongue, branding his senses. He drank her in, committing every detail to memory. This was the female the Gods had chosen for him, and while he might question their timing, he couldn’t question their choice. She was perfect, and she was his.
The Scorching flared to life as he kissed her, a rush of heat and need that had him hard in seconds. Flames, he wanted her. He had no idea how to make that happen, though. Not, yet, anyway.
It took a few seconds for his lust-addled brain to notice that Hanna had stopped kissing him, and a few more before he managed to summon enough will to lift his head and look down at her.
“We need to stop,” she said.
“Probably, but that doesn’t mean I want to.” Looking into her amber eyes was like being bathed in sunlight, warm and welcoming, tempting him to kiss her again.
“Let go of me.” She took a half-step to the side, putting enough distance between them to let him think a little more clearly.
He released her waist but kept hold of her hand. He wasn’t ready to let go of her entirely. He wasn’t sure he could. By the flames of the First Ones, this shouldn’t be happening so fast. It had to be the Scorching messing with his thinking, but it had only been a few minutes since they’d touched.
Hanna glanced down at their still-joined hands pointedly, but she didn’t pull free. Was she feeling it, too?
“Why are you still holding onto me after I asked you to let go?” she asked, her tone more amused than upset.
