The Kraken Series Boxset: A Sci-fi Alien Romance Series Books 1-3 with Bonus Exclusive Short Story

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The Kraken Series Boxset: A Sci-fi Alien Romance Series Books 1-3 with Bonus Exclusive Short Story Page 14

by Tiffany Roberts


  Jax nodded and brushed his hands together, wiping away sand and debris. “You will be our guide.”

  “I could go alone if you want to remain near the water.”

  “I do not know the dangers on land, but I’m sure there are many. I cannot leave you alone. It will be…an adventure.” Despite his serious tone, his eyes lit up.

  “Yeah,” she said, grinning, “it will be.”

  Macy removed her mask as she walked up the beach. Her body felt heavy after leaving the water, turning the trip across the sand into a trudge. Was this what Jax experienced when he went onto land?

  He followed her with an empty container in his arms, leaving wide, confused tracks in his wake. Had she not known their source, she might’ve guessed they’d been left by some massive sea serpent.

  The beach continued for another nine or ten meters before giving way to rockier ground; to either side, those rocks grew into the seaside cliffs dominating most of the coastline, but here they were tame enough to cross. The thick jungle vegetation was visible just beyond — dark green, violet, and crimson growth. Just like the woods around The Watch.

  Tugging her hood down, Macy turned to Jax. “If we’re lucky, we won’t have to go too far inland.”

  Out in the sunlight, the gray of his skin was muted, but he displayed no discomfort. “I’ll follow wherever you lead, Macy.”

  They made their way over sand and stone until they reached the first vegetation — tendrils of crimson creeper and short stalks of capeweed with bowl-shaped, indigo leaves. She glanced back at Jax; he’d slowed amidst the plants, his expression drawn.

  “This feels strange,” he said.

  “Good strange or bad strange?” Macy brushed aside a red vine as she reached the taller vegetation.

  “For now, just strange. And the taste… You do not eat these plants, do you?”

  “No, I don’t. But the capeweed — the little blue ones — make good dyes.”

  He was silent for a time; leaves rustled and crunched with their passage, and the waves sighed against the shore behind them.

  “Do you have another meaning for that word?” he asked.

  “Which word?”

  “Dyes.”

  “Dyes are mixtures that can be used to change the color of fabric or make paint. A lot of them can be extracted from plants.”

  “What about the red plants?”

  Macy wrinkled her nose. If she never had to tear up another crimson creeper, she could die happy. “No. Even though their pigment is bright, it changes to a muddy brown when you try to distill it, and it stinks.”

  The shadows thickened as Jax and Macy ventured farther into the jungle, the thickening canopy blocking out more of the sunlight. She quieted, splitting her attention between the search for edible plants and the search for safe passage. She pointed out poisonous vegetation to Jax, warning him to keep away, and avoided the worst of the tangled roots and uneven ground as best she could.

  Macy stopped when she spotted something familiar up ahead — a plant with huge, layered green leaves at its base. The leaves narrowed toward their tops, and a two-meter-long stalk jutted from their center, with several smaller, thorn-like protrusions toward its tip. Four tendrils hung from the end, glistening with some sort of nectar.

  “Do you see that one? It’s a snatcher.”

  “A snatcher?” Jax furrowed his brow.

  “Watch.” Macy crouched and snapped a branch off a nearby bush. When she stood, she threw the branch as hard as she could. It landed in the undergrowth in front of the snatcher.

  The stalk snapped down — almost matching the speed she’d seen from Jax underwater — and the thorns turned inward, catching the branch and piercing several fallen leaves. The tendrils at the end of the stalk had retracted. After a few moments, the thorns parted again, and the stalk straightened. Slowly, the tendrils extended, dangling their beads of nectar.

  “How much else is like that up here?” Jax swept his eyes over their surroundings warily.

  “There are a few different species of carnivorous plant native to Halora. That one’s the most dangerous. If it doesn’t get enough sustenance, it can actually uproot and drag itself to a new hunting ground.”

  Jax frowned and moved closer, positioning himself between Macy and the snatcher. One of his tentacles curled briefly around her calf. “I will remain watchful.”

  They continued onward until Macy found thick shoots of naba growing around the base of a tree. She drew her knife and cut them into small enough pieces to lay in the container. Rather than store the last one, she split it down the middle and scooped out a chunk of its spongy center. She stuck it in her mouth and moaned, squeezing her eyes shut at the sweet burst of juice.

  “So good. Here,” she said, offering a piece to Jax. “Try it.”

  “I have tried cooked meat. Let that be enough for now.”

  “Please?”

  His eyes lifted from the naba to meet her gaze, and he hesitated, frowning. “You need it, Macy, not me.”

  “You’re not curious at all? Where’s that sense of adventure, Jax?”

  “If I eat this…plant, and it makes me sick, what then?”

  Macy lowered her hand. “I…didn’t think of that.”

  “It is an experience I will survive without knowing,” he said gently, adjusting his hold on the container.

  After eating the remainder of the open naba, she collected a few more stalks and led Jax onward. She found some bitterstock vegetables — which tasted exactly as the name implied — soon after. Though she didn’t want to eat them, they were nutritious, and she couldn’t afford pickiness.

  “Oh, look!” Macy exclaimed, pointing up above their heads. The branches of a nearby tree were laden with bunches of winefruit — round, violet-skinned fruits with pulpy centers. “Could you pick those?”

  He eyed her skeptically, set the container on the ground, and rose up on his tentacles. Reaching over his head, he tore down a cluster of fruit. “What are these?”

  “Winefruit. You peel the skin and eat the inside.”

  “The same way you remove the meat from inside a hard-shell?”

  She smiled and plucked the individual fruits off the branch when he held them to her, stacking them in the container. “Yeah, kind of. They use them in The Watch to make wine, which is a strong, sweet drink that makes you…feel and act differently if you drink too much.”

  “Different how?”

  “It makes you…looser, mentally and physically. The more you drink, the hazier your mind becomes, and you lose control sometimes.”

  He scowled. “Why would anyone drink something that dulls their senses like that? Do they mean to endanger themselves?”

  Macy shrugged. “To feel good. It’s not as bad as I’m making it sound. Some people abuse it, and it becomes a problem, but mostly people drink to loosen up and have fun. Being in The Watch isn’t like being out here, or in the sea. It’s safe. We don’t have to all be on our guard every moment.”

  Jax frowned and closed the container, bending to lift it. He stopped before he touched it, wide-eyed gaze focused on something behind Macy.

  “What is it?” She turned to look behind her.

  A krull stood twenty meters away, staring at Macy and Jax with small, dark eyes.

  It was a large creature, its head twice as high as Macy, with a long, powerful neck and slender horns extending forward from its narrow head. The neck was nearly half its height; in comparison, its body and legs were thin and frail-looking. Apart from a splash of red just beneath either side of its jaw, its fur was the deep violet of most of the vegetation.

  Jax inserted himself between Macy and the krull, spreading his arms and raising several of his tentacles — making himself look even larger. His skin shifted to crimson, his stripes pulsing indigo.

  He’s protecting me.

  The thought made Macy smile. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. They’re harmless.”

  “It does not look harmless
.”

  “It’s so they can protect themselves from predators, or fight each other during mating season.” She trailed her hand down his back, over tense muscles. “Sarina and I used to feed them as kids, until we found out that made them easier targets for the hunters.”

  The krull turned its head and bit off a large leaf, keeping one eye on Jax while it chewed.

  Jax relaxed, if only slightly, and glanced at Macy over his shoulder. “It is a creature your people hunt?”

  “Yes.”

  He looked back at the krull. “What do they taste like?”

  Macy laughed. “I don’t know how to explain it. Like meat, I guess, but different than fish meat.”

  “If it is not dangerous…we should continue.”

  “I think I have plenty for now. We can go back.”

  “How long do these plants last, now that we have gathered them?” he asked, retrieving the container.

  “Some last longer than others. Not much more than a week, probably, but I’ll eat it all before it spoils.”

  Jax nodded; his people lived on raw meat, so she guessed they were used to eating soon after obtaining food.

  He led the way on their return trip, retracing their path with startling accuracy. Several times, she stepped in her own footprints in the few patches of soft, exposed ground they crossed. Being on land didn’t seem to hamper his sense of direction.

  The air changed immediately when they emerged from the vegetation — the cloying, earth scent of the jungle was replaced by a cool, briny ocean breeze.

  “Thank you.” Macy gathered her hair and pulled her hood over it. “I wasn’t sure if you’d agree to bring me onto land, much less come along.”

  He smiled at her; he seemed more at ease now that they were returning to the water. “You have faced the sea with me. This is the least I can do, for you.”

  He’d brushed it off as unimportant, but this trip was another extension of his trust — more than ever before. Jax had taken her ashore, followed her into the unknown, into an environment he wasn’t made for, and relied upon her to warn him of potential dangers.

  Macy watched him, lost in thought, as he moved toward the water.

  When he realized she wasn’t following, he turned toward her, tucking the container under an arm to extend a hand to her. “Come, Macy.”

  She grinned and brought the mask to her face as she went to take his hand.

  Together, they fought the tide and entered the open ocean, swimming slowly toward the cave. Jax’s tentacles felt odd; the discomfort of crossing plants, roots, dirt, and rock lingered long after he’d left land. Moving up there hadn’t hurt, but the alien textures had made him long for the sea.

  He led Macy to the bottom, placing the container on a rocky shelf near a large coral growth. The area was full of life and color, home to more creatures than he could count.

  After gesturing for her to remain with the container, Jax pulled himself along the seafloor, altering his skin to match his surroundings as he went. He slowed as he neared the coral. A few fish hurried away, driven by instinct. Their movement spooked other creatures into fleeing.

  Pressing himself into the sand, he willed his hearts to slow and waited. Hunting was often a matter of patience.

  Macy wasn’t far; he felt her eyes on him, watching.

  Patience; it wouldn’t help either of them if he caught nothing.

  Before long, the fish emerged from whatever hiding places they’d found. Small creatures with segmented shells hurried around Jax in the sand, but they would provide little meat, and he wasn’t likely to catch more than a few before they fled.

  Had Macy ever hunted? She’d mentioned hunters amongst the humans, but it wasn’t likely that she’d been one of them. Not because she was incapable, but because her role had simply been different. She had provided food for her people in a different way.

  Could she learn to hunt? There were likely tools in the Facility that could compensate for her lack of natural weaponry, and she was intelligent. Though Jax took pride in providing for her, he had a sense that she’d be more content if she were able to contribute.

  This, however, was no time for such thoughts; he shifted his attention back to the surrounding waters. Small fish darted through holes in the coral and moved in and out of the nearby plants. Occasionally, a larger fish drifted past, but none came near enough to grab.

  Something pressed down on his back.

  Jax shoved himself up and spun, tentacles splayed to strike. Through the cloud of sand, he made out the dark shape of Macy’s suit; his hearts skipped, and he halted. The fear on her face was apparent as the sand settled.

  She was speaking and gesturing frantically toward something behind and above Jax. He looked over his shoulder.

  His blood went cold.

  It was a razorback, easily as long as six kraken from its mouth to the tip of its tail. With skin the same blue as the surrounding water, the powerful beasts were difficult to spot despite their size. Slightly darker spines crested its head and ran along its back and belly, and two sets of large fins propelled it through the water, aided by the motion of its long tail.

  They ate whatever they chose, kraken included. And this one was moving directly toward Jax and Macy.

  There was no time for thought — they had no adequate weapons, and the razorback had already spotted them. Jax wrapped his arms around Macy, hugging her to his chest, and darted forward. She clung to him as he sped along the bottom, toward the more pronounced rocks near the coast.

  He risked a glance over his shoulder; the razorback was closing the distance rapidly.

  Jax moved as fast as he could; swimming, clawing, dragging, desperate to remove Macy from danger. The skin on his back burned, and he felt the razorback gaining, expected its attack at any moment. He kept as low to the increasingly rocky floor as possible without causing Macy harm. The irregularity of the bottom was the only protection they had until they found real shelter.

  There was a rush of water behind him. Jax spun aside just as the razorback lunged. Macy squeezed him, burying her masked face against his chest, as the razorback’s blunt snout hit the bottom.

  Swinging his gaze away from the beast, Jax surveyed the terrain ahead. They were quickly approaching the shoreline, where the coastal cliffs met the ocean. Amongst the rocks were two massive boulders tipped against one another. A dark, narrow space was left between them.

  He didn’t know if they would both fit, and it didn’t matter.

  So long as Macy was safe.

  Water churned as the razorback righted itself. Trusting Macy to hold on, Jax released his hold on her to use his hands for extra speed. Her grip was tight enough to be painful.

  A little farther.

  The razorback’s shadow fell over Jax. It would attack again within a few heartbeats’ time.

  With a final thrust, he propelled himself toward the opening between the rocks, hurriedly prying Macy’s arms and legs off to shove her into the gap first. He flattened himself as best he could to fit behind her, his shoulders nearly too wide to fit.

  He curled his tentacles beneath him and changed his skin to match the rock.

  The stone shook with the razorback’s impact. Jax’s eyes were wide and unseeing in the darkness, and Macy’s hands were frantic upon him, trembling. He sucked in water through his siphons, struggling to get enough oxygen.

  He found one of Macy’s hands and took it in his, holding it as he counted the beats of his hearts. The sound of the razorback’s movement was muffled in the enclosed space. Was it swimming around the boulders, waiting out its prey, or would it move on? Would it try to fit its snout into the opening?

  Releasing her hand, he slowly twisted himself around, scraping his shoulders on the stone, and peered out of the hole.

  The belly spines of the razorback passed the entrance, dipping for a moment to brush the sand on the seafloor.

  Jax reached an arm back, and Macy grabbed hold of his hand again. Though the razorback passe
d only twice more, they remained in that position for a long while.

  Patience.

  Eventually, Jax pulled away from Macy and crawled forward, poking his head out of the shelter. He counted to one hundred before exiting completely. Gesturing for her to stay, he crept up along the boulder, and from the higher vantage, checked his surroundings.

  Convinced that it had gone — unlike the kraken and some other predators, razorbacks did not lay in wait for their prey — Jax returned to the hole and helped Macy out. Her eyes were wide, darting about in a desperate search for the beast.

  He took her in his arms, and she clung to him again, the desperation of her hold little diminished. As he swam back to the cave, he scanned the water frequently.

  Macy held him while they passed through the tunnel, held him when they emerged inside the cave, held him as he climbed onto the island.

  “Sam, r-release the mask,” she said.

  There was a now-familiar hiss. She removed the mask with one hand, keeping her other arm around Jax.

  “You are safe now, Macy.” He eased a tentacle down her back.

  “What was that?”

  “A razorback. The most dangerous hunter in the sea.”

  Her trembling lessened, and the tension in her muscles gradually faded. “Why haven’t we seen one before?”

  Jax carried her to the tent and sank down on the floor, curling his front tentacles to support her as she leaned into him. “Because there are not many, and they do not tend to hunt in shallow waters. I do not know why that one ventured so near the land…”

  “Where is it from?”

  “The deep sea. Most prey in the shallows is not large enough to sustain them, and they cannot easily move amidst the rocks and reefs. But in open water, especially at night…they eat whatever they want.”

  “Have you hunted them before?” Unlocking her legs from around his middle, she set the mask aside, pulled her hood back, and shook out her hair. It was damp with sweat. He’d not smelled it on her often, but it was oddly enticing.

  “Yes. Sometimes, a razorback gets a taste for kraken and claims the area near our home as its territory. All able-bodied kraken take part in those hunts.” He lifted a tentacle, bending it to show her the jagged scar ringing it about halfway up. “I lost a tentacle to a razorback, during one such hunt. I was lucky.”

 

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