Kept From the Deep: Venora Mates Book Two

by Octavia Kore

  His tail wrapped around the other male’s leg, knocking him off balance and loosening his hold on Brin’s throat. She swore under her breath as she staggered back, trying to keep out of the way of their big bodies as they struggled against one another. As they turned to the side, the male’s face came into view, and Jun froze.

  Raou.

  She knew that scarred, evil face. He landed a blow against Brin’s jaw, knocking him back, and Jun leveled the weapon at him, training it on his head as he sneered at her.

  “What do you think you will do with that, fem—”

  His words were cut off by the sound of the weapon discharging as Jun squeezed the trigger. Where his bottom and middle left eyes had once been, there was now a gaping, bloody hole. His body swayed for a moment before going slack. He crumpled to the floor, his remaining eyes staring up at the ceiling lifelessly.

  It wasn’t how she had imagined his death. There was no suffering or calls for Mercy, no payment for all of the horrible things he had done to them and the terrifying promises he made that had given her nightmares, and would probably continue to haunt her even once they had escaped. It was too good for him, but it was done and Brin was okay.

  Raou would never touch them again.

  “He might have called for backup,” Telisa said, her voice calm and collected as if she watched women murder giant aliens on a daily basis. “It’s all right,” she told the people huddled behind. “He’s dead. It’s okay.”

  Brin stared up at her from where he’d sunk down to the flow, rubbing at a spot on his jaw.

  “Shayfia indeed.”

  Jun laughed in spite of the situation.

  “You can’t even take near death seriously.”

  He got back to his feet and motioned for their group to follow him. Nyissa called out directions, leading them up and down two corridors before they reached one of the intersections just before the doors. Brin came to a stop, throwing his arms out to catch Jun and Telisa as they slammed into his back.

  Nuzal stood in the middle of the hall. Jun felt her stomach drop as their eyes met across the space. She should kill him too, but her hand shook at the thought of even aiming her weapon at him. The only kindness she had known here had come from him.

  “You’re missing the humans in solitary,” he said, looking at Brin. “This way.” Nuzal didn’t wait for them to respond. He turned on his heel, running down the hall.

  “Are we really going to trust him?” Telisa asked in disbelief.

  Brin looked down at Jun and she saw something in his eyes that she wasn’t ready to explore.

  “He saved your life, Shayfia, but don’t let your guard down.”

  They took off after him, weapons raised as they kept an eye out for any of the roaming guards Nuzal had once warned them about. When they reached the doors at the end of the hall, Brin insisted on going fist. As they slid open, the body of one of the guards fell at Brin’s feet, his neck clearly broken as he stared up at them from the floor.

  Nuzal was already moving toward the two rows of cells, each one containing more frightened humans. He looked back at them before tapping in the code on the keypad of the first cell, then the second, and third. Telisa was there to greet them, encouraging them to join the others out in the hall.

  Jun stepped over the body of the guard as Nuzal reached the last cell of the first row, entering the code before captives rushed past him. She laid her hand over his where it rested on the wall, watching as the lights shimmered beneath her fingers and warmth spread up her arm.

  “Why are you helping us?”

  “I was coming for you,” he said, his eyes following the colors. “I was going to get you out.”

  “Why, though?”

  “This,” he told her, turning his hand so that her palm rested in his. The warmth of the breath he released rushed over her, and she shivered.

  “The glow?” He nodded as she tilted her head. “What is it?”

  His eyes darted to her face before he looked away almost sheepishly, as if whatever it was made him self conscious.

  “It means that you are my mate.” Before she could think of a response, he rushed ahead. “I don’t expect either of you to accept the claim. I just want you to be safe.” He glanced sideways at Brin. “Both of you.”

  If Nuzal hadn’t already fixed her heart, Jun might have feared it would give out right then and there. It pounded fiercely within her chest as she stared up at him, struggling to make sense of the admission. Was it possible to be mated to two aliens? She hadn’t ever imagined she’d even have one mate, and here she was, being told she now had two of them.

  “Shayfia,” Brin said, his hand slipping into her free one. “There’s no time for this now. We need to get the rest of your people out before we’re caught.”

  Nuzal moved to the second row, and Jun and Brin followed behind him, helping the ones who seemed too shocked to move on their own. Brin pulled up his comm and frowned.

  “Nyissa isn’t able to access the star map from here. We need to get someplace where we can find out exactly where we are.”

  Nuzal nodded, hurrying toward the doors. “I know a place. Follow me.”

  The humans scrambled out of his way. Jun looked at Brin as she ran after him, hoping the group could keep up. Many of them were mentally and physically exhausted, and all of this sneaking around was fraying the last of their control.

  “The records room,” Nuzal told her when she caught up. “It’s the only place I know of that keeps updated star maps for this region. “Stay here. I’ll clear the way.”

  They watched him slip inside, listening at the door for any sign of trouble. Brin raised his brow at the silence, gripping the weapons as he prepared himself for a fight, but when the door slid open once more, Nuzal stood in front of them, his exoskeleton covered in blood. “It’s clear now.”

  That’s one way to do it, she thought as she and Telisa ushered their growing group into the room. Brin took a seat at the massive holoscreen, wasting no time. Jun had never seen anything like it in her life. He ran his fingers over the pad in front of him as he moved through different files, swiping away the ones he didn’t need.

  “Someone has been in here,” Nuzal murmured, his eyes narrowing on the files that had been on the screen. “Wait!” He leaned forward, his head tilting as he read one of the filenames. “First mating. Pull it up.”

  Chapter 22

  Nuzal

  “There’s no time for this,” Brin growled.

  “We will make time! This is the only chance we might ever have to access these files.” When Brin huffed in irritation, Nuzal shook his head. “There will be maps on board the ship. We can figure out our location there.”

  “We’ll be caught if we stay here too long,” Brin argued, his fushori pulsing and racing angrily over his body as he looked back at the humans huddled in the corners.

  “We won’t be caught. I’ve made sure of it.”

  Most of the males, warriors and intellectuals alike, were far too concerned about the massive hole that had been blown into one of the docking stations on the other side of the ship. He’d rigged one of the visiting Tachin vessels with a small bomb Vodk had once designed, hoping to impress the Kaia. It had been far more powerful than expected, taking out not just the Tachin ship but also ten of their own crafts.

  Someone had been in here before them. These files required a clearance Nuzal didn’t have, and likely never would have, even if he hadn’t planned on leaving. Brin tapped on the file, opening the document on the large holoscreen.

  “What does it say?” Jun asked, stepping up beside him.

  “Test Subject A0001: the female has shown no notable progress this cycle. The effect (illumination) she has on the scientist, Erusha’s, plating remains the only indication that there is something different about her genetics. Erusha reports no discomfort from the lights. We await the results of their testing.”

  Jun blinked up at him before looking down at her hands as if she were discover
ing some mystical power.

  Nuzal frowned at the screen as he stared at the words. Erusha had experienced this before? He thought back to the journal he’d found in his room, and an uneasy feeling settled in his stomach. Was it possible?

  Brin swiped, bringing up the next entry. “Test Subject A0001: the female successfully endured her awakening and has made a full recovery,” Nuzal continued. “Erusha was instructed to engage in the hunt, and a breeding followed. We do not expect to find proof of fertilization for many cycles, but past observations of human pregnancies and the memories that remain of Grutex pregnancies tell us that any fetus should be fast forming. Breeding will continue each day cycle in the hopes of a successful pregnancy.”

  “The hunt,” Jun shook her head. “What does that mean exactly?”

  He hated the shame that rushed through him over the acts of violence his people had committed.

  “The hunt is a breeding tradition from our past. It stopped for many generations ago, sometime after we began to forego the reproduction process, but it seems that it was resurrected after this.”

  “Forego the reproduction process? How are the Grutex born if you aren’t reproducing?”

  Nuzal looked down at his mate, trying to decide how best to tell her he was far older than she could ever imagine.

  “Every Grutex in existence now was born for the first time many, many generations ago.”

  “The first time?” Brin asked, turning in his seat with a frown.

  “Each of us goes through a lifetime, and when this body is ready to expire, we are simply reborn into another vessel containing our modified DNA. We leave the tube and are raised in groups of offspring by females from previous birth cycles.”

  Jun’s mouth was hanging open, and she gaped at him for a moment before turning to Brin who shook his head. “So you’re… immortal?”

  “I wouldn’t say that, but we carry on the memories of our past lives, most of the memories, that is. I suppose, in some ways, that makes us immortal.” Nuzal lifted his shoulder and dropped it.

  “You don’t have biological parents then?” Jun asked.

  The word sparked something small in his memories, the oldest in his mind, and the hardest to recall.

  “I can’t remember what those are.”

  “A mother and a father? People who created you?”

  “We do, in a way. The scientists who recreate us and care for us as we grow, and the females who look after us before our training begins are our parents, yes?”

  “That’s not really what I meant––”

  “Shayfia,” Brin interrupted. “We don’t have time to discuss family dynamics right now.”

  Nuzal wanted to ask her what she meant, wanted to understand her question, but Brin was right.

  “Are there other files?”

  “Just this one here,” Brin answered, opening the document.

  “Test Subject A0001: the breeding has been deemed a failure. None of the offspring from the breedings have been viable. Each of the four separate pregnancies has resulted in loss prior to birth. The Kaia has ordered her to be terminated, citing her poor mental and physical health. Erusha is visibly upset over the ruling and has been confined to his quarters until he regains his composure. The assistant assigned to him has expressed concern over his condition. Final log.”

  “Concern over his condition?” Nuzal growled, frustrated over how little was actually mentioned within the files.

  “I died with her that night.”

  Nuzal spun toward his superior’s voice as the male stepped from the shadows where he must have hidden himself when Nuzal disposed of the guard. The humans in the room pressed back against the walls, their eyes going wide with fear. Many of them knew this male. Jun’s weapon was trained on him, but Nuzal placed his hand on the barrel, lowering it to the floor.

  “They brought the female in with a small group of others, and she was assigned to me for testing. The moment she touched me, the moment I saw those lights on my body, I knew it was something special. I tried my best to keep them from hurting her, but I’m afraid I caused the worst of it.” Erusha approached them, reaching over to select something from within the code of the file.

  A photo of a human female appeared on the screen. Her dark brown eyes wide and fearful, set inside a softly rounded face framed by short, brown curls. The pale skin on her face was sprinkled with golden freckles. Erusha reached out to touch the image, his hand balling into a fist when he passed through the holo.

  “I was told to breed her, to force her, and I did because I knew if I didn’t, they would punish us both. We found comfort with each other eventually, understanding, even love. She conceived like they wanted, but the pregnancies and their constant testing were too hard on her body. I was made to watch her deteriorate with each failed pregnancy. She grieved the loss of each one of our young.” Erusha faced Nuzal. “After the last, I refused to force her to go through it ever again. The Kaia ordered her death, calling our breeding a failure. I don’t think he expected me to die with her, but we had sealed our bond already. You were part of my revenge.”

  Nuzal frowned at the male in confusion. “How so?”

  “The samples they took from me, the ones they needed to recreate the bond? I stole them and placed them into as many of the waiting tubes as I could get to. You were the first, I recognized your name—the honored warrior, Nuzal, one of the strongest among us. I could not have foreseen the effect the artificial placement would cause.” He gestured at Nuzal’s eyes.

  Nuzal felt as if someone had knocked the breath from his lungs. “Why?” he asked, his xines writhing as his anger grew. “Why would you burden me with imperfection?”

  “For her!” Erusha growled, making a sweeping gesture toward Jun. “I remembered after the bond. It was as if someone had unlocked all my forgotten memories. The Grutex have lost their way, Nuzal. We are nothing like the males and females who set out from Venora.”

  “Venora?” Brin interjected. “What do you mean set out from Venora?”

  “The memories returned to me,” Erusha told them, his eyes wide, almost craving. “We left Venora, our home, to find the females that had been taken from us. This Kaia, and all of the others, have lost their way! They’ve become so obsessed with these side ventures and apparent immortality that they have grown complacent.”

  “And this is why you corrupted those tubes?”

  “Corruption,” Erusha spat, stepping closer to Nuzal. “I gave you a gift! You have the chance to live, to love, to bring new life into this world! Turning back to our origins, to the way the goddess meant for us to be, is the only way to fix the mistakes we have made.”

  Nuzal couldn’t stop the snort of disbelief that escaped his mouth as he turned away from the male. He’d lost his mind.

  “The Venium have them,” Erusha continued. “Our females, their females, they have found them, but they don’t even know it. The gene that allows you to light up beneath your mate’s touch is a recessive gene passed down from them.”

  “The lights,” Brin said. “The lost females are the Sanctus?”

  “I saw it, Nuzal. We have our answers within our grasp.” Erusha grabbed his arm, spinning him around. “We can heal ourselves.”

  “Wait, if you knew all of this, then why keep testing on us?” Jun spoke up from behind him.

  “I’m the only one who has this information. If they knew…” He shook his head. “They cannot find out. I just needed time to find a way to bring her back.” Erusha’s eyes darted back to the picture of his lost mate on the holoscreen. “Without knowledge of the human body, of their minds, I wouldn’t be able to recreate her, to give her the rebirth I promised.”

  “Humans can’t do whatever it is you promised her. You’ve been chasing a ghost all of this time, and all you’ve done is hurt countless innocent human beings in the process,” his mate sneered.

  The other male was silent as he looked first at Jun, and then at the rest of the humans in the room. “It no lo
nger matters. You should go before they come looking. We’ll go to the docking stations in sector five.”

  Erusha gave them no time to respond, dashing out the doors as they all glanced curiously at one another.

  “We’re going to trust him?” one of the human females asked as Jun and Brin moved to follow the male. Nuzal recognized her as the one who had shared Jun’s cell.

  His mate turned to him, her gaze unsure as she searched his face. There was a question in her eyes, as if she were asking him if it was okay to trust Erusha. Nuzal wasn’t sure how he felt about everything he’d heard since reading the files, but he couldn’t imagine Erusha would go through all of the trouble of ensuring his DNA was passed on and placing the journal in his room just to turn them over to the Kaia. He nodded before joining Brin in the hall, just outside the doors.

  “This is our only chance, Telisa.” Jun held out her hand.

  Telisa frowned, but she slipped her hand into Jun’s with a sigh as she moved forward, gesturing for those behind her to follow. Erusha stood at the end of the hall, focused on his comm and the small dots on the display.

  “Our way is clear for the moment,” he told them. “Stay close together and move quickly.”

  They met no resistance as they exited the lab, and when they reached the small alcove just outside of it Nuzal saw that the guard who had been on shift lay dead on the floor in a pool of his own lifeblood.

  “He gave me a hard time.” Erusha shrugged, not stopping to explain himself further. He brought them to one of the loading tunnels, tapping in the code and releasing the lock on the door. “Inside, all of you.”

  Telisa ushered the frightened humans inside, murmuring encouraging words to some of the ones who seemed to struggle the most. When the last of the rescued humans was inside, Telisa turned to Erusha, her mouth opening as if she were going to speak, but said nothing. She shut her mouth, pressing her lips together before stomping off after the others. Erusha watched her go, his head bowed and fists clenched.