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

by Tiffany Roberts

  “They’re real,” the first man said, mouth spreading into a wide grin. The expression drew attention to the cut on his lower lip and the purple, swollen flesh around it. “The damn fish men are real.”

  “Just turn around and walk away,” Arkon said, fire flowing into his veins. “No one needs to come to harm today. Our people are not enemies.”

  “And they do talk!” The man turned to one of his companions, a younger human with a strained look on his face. “You were right, Randy.”

  Randy’s eyes were on Aymee. The emotions in his features were jumbled; Arkon guessed they bore a deeper meaning but had no idea what.

  Aymee ducked beneath Arkon’s arm and inserted herself between him and the humans. “Arkon, go. Now.”

  “I am not going to leave you alone with these men, Aymee.”

  “They won’t hurt me, but they will hurt you. Go.”

  “Nobody needs to get hurt,” Randy said. “He just needs to come with us willingly.”

  “Krullshit,” the first man spat. “I owe her, and I’m not giving this thing a chance to get away.” He shifted his gaze to the third human. “Joel, you bring that rope?”

  Joel shifted his long gun into one hand and reached behind him, removing a coil of rope from his belt. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his skin nearly as dark as Dracchus’s, head shaved bare. “I did. It gonna hold him though, Cyrus?”

  “He’s not going with you,” Aymee said.

  Cyrus casually moved a hand to the bolt of his long gun and slid it back, checking the chambered round. “He is. One way or another. This bullet’s big enough to go through you on its way to him, so think real hard about how much you want to argue with me.”

  “Stand down, ranger,” Randy said through clenched teeth.

  Cyrus’s grin faltered; he pressed his lips into a tight line. “Excuse me, Randy?”

  “Stand. Down.”

  “Arkon, go,” Aymee hissed over her shoulder.

  “I am not leaving you with that man.” Arkon didn’t take his eyes off Cyrus. This was the human Aymee had stricken, the one she’d lost her temper with, and he was threatening her. “Come with me.”

  “Neither of you are going,” Randy said.

  Aymee backed up into Arkon.

  “Just one bullet, and we’ve got our prize and her mouth is shut for good. Worth a round of ammo,” Cyrus said, “maybe two.”

  “No. We’re here to protect people, damn it.” Randy met Arkon’s gaze. “Just give yourself up. You were right; no one needs to get hurt today. Cyrus, Joel — guns down.”

  Joel grimaced, but leaned over and stood his long gun against the cliffside, its butt in the sand.

  “Fuck that.” Cyrus raised his gun, barrel pointed at Aymee.

  As Arkon grabbed hold of her and spun to shield her with his body, Randy caught the barrel in his hand and halted its upward motion.

  “Taking one alive was the plan from the beginning, wasn’t it?” Randy demanded. “He hasn’t threatened us in any way. Weapon down, now.”

  “I can’t tell if your daddy would be proud right now, or if he’d be beating the snot out of you.”

  Arkon watched over his shoulder as Cyrus tugged his gun out of Randy’s grip and tossed it into the sand. They all wore knives and smaller guns on their belts, but hadn’t drawn them yet.

  “We need to go,” Aymee whispered, clutching his arm.

  “If we try to flee, they will shoot us,” Arkon replied. His options were limited in this situation; he wanted to believe the Randy, who appeared to be their leader, but — apart from Aymee and Macy — could humans be trusted? “I need to go with them.”

  “You can’t! They’ll hurt you.”

  “It will be all right, Aymee.”

  “Arkon, don’t. This is not like what happened with Jax.”

  “I know.” He reached up and cupped her cheek with his palm, brushing the pad of his thumb over her soft skin. “But the stakes are just as high. If we resist or run, you’re likely to get hurt.”

  “If this doesn’t move along, I’m just going to shoot him,” Cyrus said.

  Arkon smiled down at Aymee, turned toward the hunters, and raised his hands. He kept his breathing steady and willed his hearts to slow. He realized, as the humans cautiously advanced, that he’d lied to Aymee for the first time.

  There was little chance things would be all right.

  The three males stopped a short distance from Arkon and stared up at him.

  “Are all of you this big?” Cyrus asked.

  Arkon made no reply; instead, he met Randy’s eyes.

  “Joel is going to restrain you,” Randy said.

  Joel stepped forward — without hesitation, though it must have been strange for him to be so close to a kraken for the first time — with the rope in his hands.

  Aymee approached them. “Randall, don’t do this.” She motioned toward Arkon. “You see him with your own eyes, now, and he’s complying. He isn’t a threat to anyone.”

  “He’s a predator.” Cyrus scowled at Aymee. “That makes him a threat.”

  “So are you,” she shot back with a glare.

  “None of this is necessary,” Arkon said calmly. “I will go with you, but I will not be restrained. If I am expected to trust you, then you must extend similar trust to me. I would like us to be friends. My understanding is that humans do not make captives of would-be friends.”

  Randall hesitated, seeming conflicted.

  “Shut your mouth and put your hands behind your back,” Cyrus growled. “I’ve had enough of her running her mouth. I’m not in the mood to hear you, too.”

  Cyrus tugged the rope out of Joel’s hands.

  “Take it easy, Cyrus,” Joel said. He hadn’t removed his eyes from Arkon. “We don’t know what this thing’s capable of.”

  “We don’t, but I guarantee you my gun can put a hole in him as big as it would in anything else.” Cyrus grasped Arkon’s wrist.

  Aymee leapt forward and grabbed hold of the rope. “You’re not taking him.”

  Releasing his hold on Arkon, Cyrus backhanded Aymee across the face. The force of it sent her to the ground.

  Something within Arkon broke. Though it happened in a fraction of an instant, he was acutely aware of the process — it was as though a wall had collapsed, and rage like he’d never felt poured in through the opening. His skin shifted to crimson.

  Randall took a fistful of Cyrus’s shirt and hauled the man backward, shock and anger on his features.

  Cyrus scowled. “Stupid little—”

  Arkon wasn’t interested in hearing anymore. He swung his left arm, the back of his hand connecting with Cyrus’s mouth. Twisting, the human tumbled to the sand.

  The other hunters were quick to overcome their surprise. Joel stepped forward and hooked Arkon’s arm with his own and extended a leg behind Arkon’s tentacles, pulling back as though to drag the kraken off-balance. It was little surprise that a land-dwelling being would resort to such tactics — someone with legs would have fallen.

  Arkon shifted his weight, spreading his limbs wider to remain upright, and wrapped a tentacle around each of Joel’s legs.

  “Stop!” Randall shouted.

  Arkon pulled Joel’s feet out from beneath him, and the man hit the sand hard, the back of his head striking the cliffside as he fell. Ignoring Randall, who hadn’t moved to attack, Arkon returned his focus to Cyrus.

  The man had regained his feet. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and he wore a ghastly grin. He pulled a long knife from his belt. The blade glinted in the evening sunlight.

  “Come on, then. Nothing wrong with a little sport.” He spat crimson onto the beach.

  “God damn it, that’s enough!” A desperate tone had entered Randall’s voice; the situation had spiraled out of control. Arkon knew well how that felt.

  “I accept your challenge, Cyrus,” Arkon said.

  “This has gone far enough! Both of you, stand down!”

  “Quiet
now, Randy. Let the adult settle this.” Cyrus advanced toward Arkon.

  Randall drew the gun from his hip, raised it, and fired into the sand in front of Cyrus. The boom was deafening, amplified by the rock walls.

  Cyrus halted, turning a furious, wide-eyed gaze to Randall.

  “I said stand down, ranger. That is an order,” Randall said.

  “This pulling rank shit doesn’t work in the field, kid. Only thing that matters out here is respect, and you don’t—”

  “Don’t what? Have yours? You think I care, Cyrus? I gave you an order. We’re doing this my way, so back up and put your knife away.”

  “Arkon isn’t going with you,” Aymee said, voice hard.

  All eyes turned to her; Cyrus’s blossoming smirk quickly faded. She stood beside the prone Joel, clutching the man’s sidearm in both hands. Her arms were steady, keeping the barrel pointed toward Cyrus and Randall. Arkon recognized the fire in her eyes. It was more intense now, but it stemmed from the same passion she displayed for art, for joy, for life.

  Randall neither raised nor lowered his gun; his face was contorted with conflicting emotion again. “Aymee—”

  “No! I’m done hearing about your good intentions. From what I’ve seen and heard, there was no intention of letting him live.”

  “At this point, I don’t have any intention of letting either of you live,” Cyrus said.

  “You kill me, and the entire town will turn on you.”

  The man’s grin might as well have been filled with razor-sharp teeth — they would have accompanied its malice rather well.

  “Most of the townsfolk think these things are dangerous. We tried to save you, but the monster was too quick…so we took it down to avenge your death.”

  “Is that so, Randall?” Aymee asked.

  Randall dropped his gaze. “It doesn’t need to be. We just...we just need to put the weapons down, and we can still talk this through.”

  Something flickered in Aymee’s eyes as she looked at Randall — a hint of sorrow in her anger. “You’re just as monstrous as him.”

  Arkon eased himself toward Aymee, moving slowly. Randall’s brows lowered over the bridge of his nose, falling over pained eyes.

  Aymee looked at Arkon. “We’re going now.”

  “You’re not going anywhere,” Cyrus growled. He lunged forward and thrust his hand out.

  Something glinted in the air. Arkon’s hearts skipped — it was the knife. He twisted his torso aside to avoid the flying blade. It skimmed across his chest, leaving a line of fire in its wake, and clattered against the cliffside.

  “Arkon!” Aymee screamed.

  Cyrus was already in motion when Arkon turned back.

  The human had closed the distance between himself and Aymee. Before Arkon could react, Cyrus grabbed her wrists. She struggled, and he slammed his knee into her stomach.

  The gun in her hand went off with a boom. Its recoil kicked the weapon from her grip as she doubled over with a wheeze.

  Arkon surged toward them. Cyrus released Aymee and met Arkon’s charge, and they tumbled into the sand.

  Skin a deep crimson, Arkon rolled atop Cyrus. The human swung his arms, fists balled. Arkon shrugged off the blows and coiled tentacles around Cyrus’s arms and legs, wrenching them apart; the man was strong, but not strong enough. Arkon slammed the edge of his fist down into Cyrus’s face. Again, and again, each time seeing Cyrus hit Aymee in his mind’s eye.

  Warm blood splattered Arkon. The human’s struggles weakened.

  Cyrus’s head lolled to the side, and his breath rattled. Arkon drew back for another blow.

  He hesitated. These men had come to hunt monsters. Arkon refused to be one.

  He cast aside his rage, and concern flooded into its place. Pushing up off Cyrus, he turned to Aymee.

  She’d crawled to Randall — who lay on his back in the sand — and knelt over him, sobbing. Arkon moved to her.

  Randall’s face was a mask of pain, teeth clenched and bared. Aymee had torn fabric from her skirt and held it to his shoulder. Blood covered her hands and seeped from Randall’s wound.

  “I’m so sorry,” Aymee cried.

  Arkon frowned and lowered himself beside her.

  “I shot him, Arkon,” she said, turning her watery eyes toward him. “I could have killed him. He could still…”

  After glancing at the unconscious forms of Joel and Cyrus, Arkon returned his attention to Randall. Though he’d spent countless hours learning everything he could from the Computer back in the Facility, studying human anatomy with particular curiosity, he possessed no practical experience; he’d been lucky to succeed in sealing Macy’s wounds from the razorback, nothing more. He knew only that humans were more fragile than kraken.

  “I need to get the bullet out,” she said.

  “We need to leave, Aymee.”

  “But he—”

  “How likely is it that people in town heard those shots, Aymee?”

  “They would have heard,” she said quietly.

  “How many more of these men are there?”

  She was silent for several moments as she stared at Randall’s wound. “Go.”

  “I will not leave you with these men,” Arkon said, hooking a finger under her chin and guiding her face toward him. “It very well might have been us sprawled out in the sand bleeding, Aymee. Only we wouldn’t have had a chance to get back up. Do what you can for him, quickly, and your father will see to the rest.”

  Aymee searched his eyes and, finally, nodded. “Keep this in place and lift him.”

  Arkon pressed his hand over the blood-soaked cloth on Randall’s shoulder when she pulled away, and slowly raised Randall’s torso off the sand.

  Randall groaned. “Don’t go,” he said. “It won’t... How will it look? You have to stay. Explain.”

  “You can tell them the truth,” Aymee said as she tore another long strip from her skirt. She wrapped it around Randall’s back and chest, tying a knot over the wadded cloth Arkon held in place.

  Shouts carried to them from inland. Arkon didn’t want to drag Aymee away from all she knew, but after this experience, how could he entrust her safety to other humans? How could he believe that she’d be all right while Cyrus and the hunters were near?

  “Come, Aymee. The others may not hesitate to use their long guns when they come upon this scene.”

  She nodded and stood up, but Randall caught her wrist.

  Fire burst through Arkon’s chest. He clenched his teeth, barely keeping himself from attacking.

  “Aymee…” Randall rasped.

  “Arkon is right,” she said, gently prying his hand off. “I’m sorry. I tried to tell you.” She stepped back. “It didn’t have to be this way. It still doesn’t have to be this way. Tell them the truth.”

  “My people do not want another fight,” Arkon said, moving beside Aymee. “Please, do not bring one to us. The past does not need to be repeated.”

  He held out his hand to Aymee and met her gaze. She took it, and together they picked up the canisters they’d planned to exchange and moved toward the sea.

  This was not the Aymee he’d known; the light of life had dimmed in her eyes, and there was no trace of joy on her face. He only hoped the change was temporary, and that he wasn’t the one responsible for breaking her spirit.

  Arkon wouldn’t be able to live with that.

  Chapter 10

  It was a long while before Arkon’s hearts eased and the frantic energy in his limbs dissipated. All he focused on, at first, was getting Aymee well away from the beach. He’d moved quickly, and though the choppy water splashed her face numerous times, she voiced no complaint.

  He’d expected to hear the boom of a gunshot at any moment, to feel the jolt of impact.

  He slowed only after they were well beyond the landward current and the voices from the beach had long since faded. The cut on his chest stung, but the pain was tolerable; once they found a place to shelter for the night, it would have plenty of
time to heal.

  Aymee clung to him as he swam — arms around his neck, legs encircling his torso, chest pressed against his back. Apart from her occasional coughing or sputtering after being splashed, she was quiet. Tremors pulsed through her limbs; each time she trembled, she squeezed him a little tighter.

  The sun sank rapidly, unconcerned with their plight. The ocean’s surface rippled like liquid gold. Part of him recognized the beauty on display all around, but he rejected it. Only Aymee’s safety mattered, and all the beauty in the world wouldn’t help that.

  Where should we go?

  He’d acted in the heat of the moment, had operated on instinct, having known only that they needed to depart before more humans arrived. But Arkon was unaccustomed to life on land, and Aymee didn’t have a diving suit to survive under water. She’d need one of the suits Macy used if he wanted to take her to the Facility.

  Not that he could take her there. Even after the trials she and Jax had faced, Macy still wasn’t accepted by all. Introducing another human — unproven and unknown — could push the tensions past the point of sensibility and control, leaving Aymee and Macy both in unnecessary danger.

  That left only one place; the location was oddly fitting.

  He continued along the coastline toward the Broken Cavern.

  When Jax had first convinced Arkon to visit the place, they’d been younger — kraken hunters who’d only just reached their majority and begun truly contributing to their people’s wellbeing. It was amongst the first places Jax discovered in his early wanderings, and his excitement, coupled with the promise of seeing some amazing human creations, had coaxed Arkon into going.

  By the time Aymee and Arkon reached the Broken Cavern, the daylight had dwindled to a soft glow. The entrance was a rectangular opening carved into the rocky shoreline.

  “What is that place?” Aymee asked, weariness and curiosity evident in her voice. It was the first time she’d spoken since leaving the beach.

  Midnight blue water flowed into the Cavern, where it met solid, impenetrable blackness.

  “It is a place your people built long ago, intended to house large, underwater boats.”

  She fell silent. Arkon imagined her brow furrowing as she studied what little of the structure was visible.