The Determined Hero (The Lost Planet Series Book 7)

by K Webster

  “Sorry,” she breathes. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

  “I’m glad you did,” I say, winking at her. “It makes me want to do lots of nice things for you, so you’ll thank me every time like that.”

  She laughs. “Well, actually, I had an idea, but I know you’re busy. We can put a pin in it for later. You know, after you save the world and all that jazz.”

  I lift a brow. “I’m a smart mort. I can multitask. You talk and I’ll work.”

  As she chatters about recreating a library, but with our files and using a tablet, I take apart one of the components of my thermablaster. She explains how the library she worked at functioned and it sounds orderly. When she finishes her explanation, I call for Uvie.

  “Uvie, I need you and Sayer.”

  “Sayer has been paged. What can I help you with, Oz?” Uvie asks in her digitized voice.

  “I want you to work with Quinn to locate the files she needs. She’s working on a special project.” I walk over to one of my bins and rummage around until I find what I’m looking for. “Give her access to what she needs.” I pull off the backing to the device, tweak a few controls, and then put it back together before turning it on.

  “Certainly,” Uvie agrees. “Quinn, what do you need?”

  “First, I need a—” she starts but is cut off when I hand her a tablet. “This. I need this.” Her grin is wide and her blue eyes even wider behind her glasses. “You really are good at making stuff happen.”

  I shrug, flashing her a cocky grin before walking back over to the thermablaster. Thin arms hug me from behind.

  “I’ve never belonged anywhere except the library,” Quinn says, her breath hot against my bare back. “But here…it feels right. Everyone is nice. No one tries to hurt you. It’s a home.”

  Pride fills my being.

  “You’re home, Whisper. This will always be your home.”

  She starts to say something else when someone clears their throat.

  “Am I interrupting a mating ritual involving a legaloct and a thermablaster?” Sayer asks, humor in his tone. “Don’t give Jareth any more ideas. His nog is already corrupted with your creations, which in turn means he violates us with them.” He chuckles, clearly okay with being violated with my metal devices Jareth uses on him and Grace both.

  Quinn pulls away, her happy grin still affixed. “Look! I can see!”

  Sayer smiles at her. “That’s great, Quinn. We’re ugly morts, eh?”

  “I think you all are kinda cute,” she says, her neck turning splotchy red. Her blue eyes dart my way. “Some more handsome than others.”

  Heat floods down to my cock. The urge to haul her back to me and claim her as my mate is nearly overwhelming. If Galen were in here, my sub-bones would be popping with the need to stake said claim. But Sayer has his hands full with two mates he loves. He’ll leave mine alone.

  My mate.

  Mine.

  “Can you and Uvie assist Quinn in her quest to create a library?”

  Sayer nods. “I certainly can. How is the thermablaster coming along?”

  “It’ll rekking get there,” I grunt.

  “Jareth is pacing like mad,” Sayer reveals. “He’s worried about the alien invasion. If you could use the extra hands, it would distract him from driving Grace up the wall.”

  “I’m going to need help lifting this thing anyway to hook it to the main power source. Send him in. I’ll distract him with some clamp ideas I had.”

  Sayer shudders. “Dare I ask where the clamps go?”

  “You best dare not.” I smirk at him and shrug. “I just create the objects. It’s not my fault Jareth likes to play with them.”

  He rolls his eyes—something that reminds me of Hadrian—and struts back to the door. “Quinn, meet me in the Navigation Bay. I’m going to fetch Jareth and send him here.” He leaves without another word.

  I stalk over to Quinn and tilt her chin up with my finger.

  “What is it?” she whispers.

  “I just wanted to look at you again up close.”

  “That’s it? Just to look?”

  I drag my clawed thumb over her bottom lip, loving the way it pulls her soft pink flesh. “I want to do more than look, Whisper. A lot more than look. I simply don’t have time.”

  Her lashes flutter. “Once you get those dirty bastards who are trying to ruin our home, then we’ll have lots of time.”

  I stare at her for a long, stolen moment as I memorize all the details of her face. Just as I had done last night when she fell asleep fussing over the legaloct. In my rekking bed. From my blankets on the floor, I watched her sleep like so many solars before.

  “I’ll probably forget to eat again,” I murmur. “Next meal, if you come get me, I’ll share it with you. Maybe take you to The Tower so you can see more of Mortuus.”

  “I’d like that. It’s a date.” She grins, wide and beautiful.

  I know all about these dates. My mate isn’t resistant like the others. My mate likes me. And I’d pounce on that fact if it weren’t for the whole impending doom with a ticking time limit looming over my nog.

  “And then I’ll watch you sleep,” I say, finally releasing her.

  “That should sound creepy, but I’m not going to lie, Oz.” She shrugs. “I’m into it.”

  With those sassy words, she turns on her heel, bounding out of the room, her dark curls bouncing with her movement.

  It takes every ounce of self-control to not follow after her.

  “No, you piece of rogshite,” Jareth grumbles. “Pay attention.”

  Hadrian throws his hand in the air in frustration. “I am paying attention. I’m trying to run this place while also taking rekking notes on how to replicate that thing.” He points through the screen to the thermablaster.

  “How are the females?” I ask, setting my tool down. “Are they well?”

  Hadrian sighs, running his hand through his hair, making it stick up in several directions. “Are you still going on about mating with them? If so, save it for after you save Mortuus.”

  Testy.

  “No, mortling,” I gripe. “I have a mate. I want to know how they’re doing. Will they live—”

  “Back up,” Hadrian snaps. “You have a mate? Since rekking when?”

  “I didn’t say—” I start.

  Jareth cuts me off with a laugh. “You did.”

  “I did?”

  “You did,” Hadrian agrees. “Who’s the lucky alien? Is it Eileen?”

  I shoot him the finger just like Aria taught me. This makes him snort, cutting the tension in half.

  “He’s going to mate with Quinn,” Jareth tattles. “You should see the way they look at each other.” He starts mimicking a sexual act.

  I toss my tool at him and it nearly whacks him in the nog. “Don’t talk about my mate.”

  “Ha!” Jareth taunts. “You don’t even deny it.”

  “What’s there to deny?” I grunt out. “If I didn’t have to do all the rekking work around here, I’d have that beautiful alien naked and in my bed, halfway pregnant by now.”

  “Does she know that?” Hadrian asks, smirking.

  He gets the finger again.

  “It’s cute when the monsters flirt,” Zoe says, popping into the screen behind Hadrian. “Like little boys on the playground whipping out their peckers to see who’s got the biggest one.”

  “My cock—” Hadrian starts and is interrupted by Lyric.

  “Isn’t up for discussion,” Lyric grumbles. “Seriously. I leave you with one job. One job and you’ve somehow turned it into talking about naked females. Only you, Hadrian.”

  Julie also arrives, swatting at Hadrian. “Outta my chair, big boy. I’m taking over. Your lack of tactical knowledge is giving me hives.”

  “Maybe Avrell can help you with those hives,” Zoe says in a saccharine tone. “Since he knows fucking everything.”

  “Oh God,” Lyric grumbles. “Here we go again.”

  “What?�
� Zoe snaps. “He’s getting on my last nerve. My reserve nerve. Do you know he actually had the audacity to suggest I go help in the kitchen? Like this is the motherfucking Stone Age!”

  Jareth and I smirk at each other. Hadrian laughs. All three of the girls smack him. Thank rekk for being four solars’ travel away.

  “Where’s Theron?” I ask.

  “He and Willow took the Mayvina to the ocean to look for some haxagranules so we can make our lens,” Julie tells me. “Though it’s taking an extraordinarily long time.”

  Hadrian shrugs, a devilish look on his face.

  As I listen to the girls give Hadrian a hard time about encouraging their behavior, I take pause to look at each of them. Since the females arrived, our lives have improved remarkably. Everyone is happy. Always laughing. Making a future with one another.

  The Kevins are headed our way, threatening to take it all away from us.

  It absolutely can’t happen.

  In twelve solars, I want to listen to Zoe gripe about Avrell. Tease Sokko about stinking like his father. Kiss Quinn until she’s breathless. There’s so much I still want before I go to The Eternals. I’m not ready to give this all up. Maybe a revolution ago, I would’ve had a different answer.

  Not now.

  The aliens will invade, but I won’t rekking let them destroy my home or those who live in it.

  “Hadrian, Julie,” I bark out. “The zuta-metal needs to be a precise thickness. Write down everything exactly as I say.”

  Everyone grows serious and we get back to work.

  Together.

  We will succeed.

  5

  Quinn

  Eleven Solars Left

  The warmth pulls me from the thick embrace of sleep. It’s not unpleasant, per se, just different from the coolness that permeates the facility if you pay a lot of attention to it. I shift in Oz’s bed as the fog in my head slowly fades away. I’d spent most of the night browsing through the pages and pages of information Uvie had transferred to my tablet.

  I’m not going to lie, it isn’t a hardship. Getting lost in a book, or even data as the case may be, is my happy place. The morts were able to requisition a vast amount of literature from the days before Mortuus was even a place. They must have been very resourceful. I can’t imagine being abandoned on a dying planet, watching your salvation fly away while you’re left to face certain death. I’d been born on Earth II, so I never knew anything different. Oz’s people have been through horrors that were unimaginable to survive. The fact they’re still here is incredible in and of itself.

  The thought of Oz brings me the rest of the way out of sleep. I crack my eyes open and find him lying on his bed next to me, his big body cradling my own. No wonder it was getting warm. His arm is wrapped around my back and his legs are tangled with mine. He has his head propped up on his free hand and he’s watching me, as though deep in thought.

  “Hey,” I say a little breathlessly. I’m all too distracted having him so close to me. It makes it hard for me to think clearly when combined with the dregs of sleep still tumbling around in my head.

  “Sleep well?” he asks, his voice a bit hoarse. His black eyes don’t show the redness like mine would, but there’s something about the glint in them that makes me think he’s tired. Maybe their inky depths are duller than usual or maybe it’s the tightness in the small muscles around them. For sure the bruising under his eyes and in the hollows of his cheeks is a sign he’s been working hard…too hard. But how do I tell him to stop when I know how much is resting on his shoulders?

  “Well enough,” I answer and give in to having him wrapped around me. Before I woke up in the facility, I couldn’t have remembered the last time someone had held me, let alone touched me. The service class, and that’s what I was considered on Earth II because I had to work in order to survive, wasn’t allowed such luxuries. We worked until we died. The end.

  Not exactly the happiest story.

  This is my chance to rewrite my own ending and I’m not going to let it pass me by.

  “You look like you could use some,” I tell him as his free hand moves up to tangle in my hair. Over the past couple of days, I’ve learned he has somewhat an obsession with touching and savoring. Like he’s memorizing me with his hands. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

  I pull back long enough to see him lift a shoulder in a shrug.

  Frowning, I say, “That’s not an answer.”

  His lips curve in a teasing smile. “My Whisper is a grumpy one.”

  I could have him call me his forever. “Oz. You need to sleep. You work in your lab all day and night on the weapon and barely take breaks. It’s not safe. You’re going to hurt yourself if you don’t get some rest.”

  “I rested. Look, I’m resting now.” He nods down to our tangled bodies.

  Smothering a laugh, I say, “This doesn’t count. You aren’t asleep. Have you been here like this all night?”

  “I like watching you sleep. It’s why I liked talking to you while you were in the Medical Bay. You were so peaceful. It makes me feel peace to watch you.”

  “Wow,” I breathe, my cheeks burning. How sweet is he? “Well, I’m happy to hear that, Oz, but it still doesn’t change the fact that you’re running yourself ragged. This pace isn’t sustainable. I know how hard you have to work, but you aren’t going to do anyone any good if you burn out.”

  “I’ll be fine. Once I have a working prototype I won’t have to work so much. I’ll rest then. I don’t know how much time I’ll have with you. I don’t want to miss a moment in case it’ll be our last.”

  “How about you sleep when you’re in here at night. I’m not going anywhere,” I insist.

  “Do you promise?”

  “Promise what?” I lift my eyes to his, feeling pinned by the intensity of his gaze.

  “Do you promise you won’t go anywhere?”

  I think of the other morts who have their families to go home to, then of Oz, who has no one but me. He and Galen, the other unmated mort, must feel so lonely sometimes to be without a family when all they’ve had was each other for so long. Maybe that’s the part of me that is so drawn to and comforted by him. For a long time, I didn’t have anyone either. It had always been me and my books. I didn’t think I needed anyone else.

  Maybe I don’t need Oz, but I want him.

  The question is…will I get to keep him?

  “I promise I don’t plan to go anywhere,” I answer, but we both know fate may have other plans.

  With the threat of the Earth II attack looming, all I can do is hold on to Oz while I have him. Hold on to him and be thankful for what little time we have left. I don’t know if he sleeps, but I soon drift back into dreams, comforted by his warmth and closeness.

  When I wake up again, brilliant red light trickling in through the filtered windowpane, he’s gone, and the space beside me has long since gone cold.

  “You can use this room,” Aria says, guiding me into a somewhat empty section of the facility. Breccan officially cleared me to use any room that would serve our purpose of starting our own library. “It’s not much, but it’s clean. Relatively.”

  With the growing mort population and the women from the prison, it would be imperative to have books. Books are life, in my humble opinion. They are a necessity for living. Maybe we won’t ever have the sprawling campus my old job boasted, but this will do just fine. The little mortlings will grow up knowing and loving the adventures contained between covers. I’ll make sure of it.

  “It’s perfect,” I say, turning in a slow circle to survey the area. It had once been an office of some sort, I think. A large desk is covered by a thick cloth in the center of the room. An ancient computer is boxed and abandoned in a corner. Already my mind races with ideas for decorations, programs. “Breccan mentioned there are some spare shelving units and desks we can use?”

  Aria nods and bounces little Sokko in her arms as he begins to fuss. He must be a few months old. Little Sokko has lig
hter skin than his mother, but more human-like than the morts. He sports a pair of fangs and dark black hair like his father also. Strange, but also strangely human. “I’ll have one of the guys deliver them as soon as I can tear them away from their war room.”

  “There’s no rush, really. I’m going to have my hands full for a while sifting through the files Uvie gave me.” I lift the tablet for emphasis. “It’s definitely not a priority at the moment.”

  “Don’t be silly. I think it’s a great idea what you have planned here. We have to think about life after the attack. It’s the only way we’re going to survive. If there’s one thing we’ve learned it’s that we can’t live without hope here. And things like this, planning for a future, these are the kinds of things that will give all of us the sense of hope we’ll need to make it through everything that’s to come.”

  I can see why she and Breccan are mated. He is the authoritative figure, the one who makes you feel safe and secure because he has everything handled, and she is his perfect complement, there to reassure when you have doubts. It’s no wonder they’ve guided their people through these tumultuous times, and I’ve heard there have been some doozies. From the original arrival of all of us on the ship to the discovery of the prison and The Rades. These people need strong leaders and Aria and Breccan are exactly that.

  “I’m happy to help in any way I can,” I tell her, thankful to have a place, any place, in their tight-knit family.

  Sokko begins to wail and she grimaces. “Let me get this one down for a nap and find you some strong bodies to move that furniture. Have Uvie get in contact with me if you need anything else.”

  “I will,” I assure her. With one last reassuring look, she leaves, and I take a moment to rest against the desk and breathe.

  My world has changed completely, but somehow I feel right at home.

  I get to work rearranging the desk to the side of the room. It’ll serve as my home base and reference section. The computer may be old and run on strange technology, but I manage to get it booted back up with Uvie updating the operating systems. I figure I can have her and Sayer, maybe, help me come up with some sort of catalog…when everything is over, that is.