by Celia Kyle
I stand up to my full height and jerk my head and shoulders to the side, sending his twitching corpse flying across the room and crashing into several of his fellows. They fall prone. Without slowing down I snatch Lamira up and shove her behind me out of the open doors before taking up a position in the now cut open portal. If they want to get to my mate, they’re going to have to go through me first.
At first, they seem confused as to what to do next. Finally, one of them who seems a little less handicapped by his disfigurement than the others speaks.
“We kill hooman woman.”
They take up the chorus, pressing in closer on my position. Some stagger unsteadily on misshapen feet, others hobble about on their knuckles like primates, and some of the truly hideous slither along on their bellies as a serpent might.
“Kill the hooman, kill the hooman, kill the hooman.”
“You will not harm her. If you continue your advance, I promise you only pain and death.”
The one who spoke first sneers at me, his ugly face contorting into a mask of pure hatred. “We no care. Life is pain. Death is release.”
Then they surge forward. I twist at the waist, building up power for a truly magnificent roundhouse punch. My knuckles strike three of them at once—two in the face and one on the temple. They fall like rain but more are pressing in, trampling the bodies of their kin with sadistic abandon.
These monsters truly have nothing to lose. That makes them far more dangerous than their physical infirmities might otherwise suggest. I draw a beautifully curved Kilgari fighting dagger from my boot and extend my Hael Hound punch blade from my gauntlet. I might not be part of their number any longer, but I held onto this little beauty.
Launching my arm into an overhand right, I bury the punch blade into the chest of the nearest hybrid. When I retract my weapon, I do so by swinging my hand in an arc, slashing the throat of another.
Were I fighting normal foes, ones who actually cared if they lived to fight another day, I’d be able to keep these creatures at bay with my blades. But these aren’t normal foes. They don’t care if I cut off their fingers, their hands, or even bury my knife in their hearts.
The chamber becomes the stage for a gruesome and tragic ballet as the hybrids mob me and I send each and every one of them to the next life. Normally, I might take some pleasure in the death of my foes, but these are pitiable creatures, and I am, in this instance, the instrument of their mercy.
I blink blood out of my eyes in a brief moment where the chaos of melee slows. Most of the blood isn’t mine, but their claws and teeth have crisscrossed my body with painful wounds. At the moment, less than ten of my foes continue the attack, each of them grievously injured. The one who seems to speak for them hangs back, clutching the bleeding stump that used to be its right forearm. Thanks to the hardy constitution the hybrid inherited from its progenitors, the wound is already closing up.
“We don’t have to do this.” I struggle to keep a tremble out of both my voice and my limbs as I lift my weapons defensively. “We have a ship. We can take you away from this place, and our doctor can…”
“Doctor?”
That was the wrong thing to say. All of them rush me with a savage ferocity, and my curved dagger is knocked from my grasp under the press of their bodies. I should have known. To these poor monsters, a doctor is nothing more than a tormentor in a white lab coat.
I ply the punch blade ruthlessly, turning the belly of one of my foes into a bloody pincushion. Then I shove his dying body back into his fellows to buy myself some breathing room. I spare a glance for Lamira and find that she’s unharmed. She’s snatched up my fallen blade and now sits out in the corridor clutching it before her in two trembling hands. I’m glad she’s still alive, and it gives me the hope I need to launch an attack of my own.
At last, I’m no longer on the defensive. The creatures are untrained, wounded, and badly deformed. I take no pleasure in the slaughter. There is no glory in vanquishing foes such as these.
Then there is but one hybrid still living, their spokesman. His arm has stopped bleeding, and he approaches me despite a terrible, bleeding wound in his side that exposes white bone. I can see the quiet resignation in his eyes. He knows he doesn’t have a prayer of victory. He knows I’m going to kill him, but still he comes.
Now that I have the luxury of doing so, I make his death as painless as possible. I bury my punch dagger into his heart while blocking his weak punch with my empty hand. His mouth stretches wide open, but no sound comes out.
I lower him gently to the floor and extract my blade cleanly.
“I’m sorry.” I sigh as the light slowly leaves his eyes. “I wish I could have done more for you.”
“Avenge…us…” his voice is a soft hiss, and then his chest stops moving altogether.
They should not have taken my jalshagar. For that, I cannot forgive them. But I still believe they deserve to be avenged. One way or another, I will see to it that those responsible for this atrocity pay.
With their lives, if need be.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Lamira
I waste absolutely no time rushing into Grantian’s arms once he’s dispatched the hybrid Vakutan-Odex creatures. Even though I want to dissolve into a complete mess of emotion, I force myself to remain calm. His arms are both wrapped tightly against me and I know I’m safe now, so there’s no need to panic.
Except there is because as soon as I touch him, he winces in pain. He doesn’t want me to see that he’s hurting. But because he’s my jalshagar I’m so finely tuned to him now that I don’t miss the look he gives me or how I also seem to be able to feel his aches.
“Where are you injured?” I ask, even though I’m not planning on giving him any time to respond. I begin quickly and fastidiously checking him over. My fingers feel along every ridge and groove of his body, checking beneath his class-three armor. It doesn’t take me long to discover a long, deep laceration on his left side, just beneath his ribs. He lets out a short, hissing breath when I touch it and jumps nearly a foot.
“Grantian, this is a serious wound. We have to get you back to the Queen so Nicari can fix you up.”
I hope he can hear the worry I’ve purposefully infused into my voice. I doubt the tone of it will scare my big, strong, mercenary warrior, but I need him to understand that his injury requires urgent medical attention. Who knows how far it reaches inside his chest, or if those hybrid creatures had any sort of poisons in their talons?
“I can walk,” he all but gasps, nearly collapsing even as he says the words.
“You can, but not by yourself. Lean on me until we find the others.” I prop myself underneath his massive frame, looping one of his thick arms over my shoulder. It’s awkward with our height difference and his substantial weight, and I can tell he’s trying to hold himself up so as not to crush me.
“Lamira… you’re too small. You should leave me here and go find Solair or Zander. They can get me back to the ship. You should go,” he tells me, leaning limply back against the wall to better distribute his weight.
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” I snap at him. “You didn’t leave me behind, and I won’t leave you. It’s us now, Grantian, and it always will be. So suck it up and let me help you!”
I grit my teeth and haul him off the wall as I brace myself to better bear his weight. He groans as I propel us forward. He’s clearly in terrible pain, but I don’t allow myself to stop. I loop a tense arm around his chest to secure a better hold on him before he can utter another protest.
Just as we’re about to leave the room, the lights go out, but only momentarily. When they come back on, they’re no longer the bright fluorescence from before but a dark, menacing red. The alarm Fiona tripped shifts into a new one, just one short blast, and then a feminine voice echoes over the speaker system built into the ceiling.
Self-destruct sequence initiated. Please make your way to the nearest exit and clear the building by at
least fifteen hundred feet. Detonation will commence in three minutes.
“What—did that—say?” Grantian’s breathing is labored, and his words come in panting gasps. Sweat pours off his golden skin, dripping down onto my hair as his wound oozes blood onto my shirt. I know jack shit about Kilgari physiology, but this is starting to look bad.
“It said we better haul ass or we’re going to die here!” I bark, gathering myself under him again. With a mighty effort, I put one foot in front of the other and take off back up the ramp and then down the twisting corridors, trying desperately to remember the way the creature had carried me. I start screaming for the rest of our group, for Solair, for Varia, for anyone to find us. I hope my voice doesn’t attract anymore of those creatures, but I know I don’t have much choice but to call for my team. If it does, well, I’ll cross that bridge when—if—I come to it.
Grantian moans in agony with every second footfall. I hate causing him any further pain, but either we stop and die when the building blows or I make him suffer for a few more minutes. Even though he’s barely speaking coherently, I know what decision he’d choose. The Grantian I know, the ex-Hael Hound and my mate, would never go down without a fight.
Especially since not only is his life on the line but mine as well.
Thankfully, the hallways are still illuminated enough to read the signs on the facility’s walls, and I make my way back to an atrium where I think we were when I’d been taken. I think we’re close to the exit when the rest of the team finally bursts through a set of sliding doors, stopping short when they see Grantian and me clinging gracelessly to one another.
Varia and Fiona gasp audibly while Solair and Zander make short work of lifting him off my shoulders.
“Are you hurt?” Varia demands, forcefully turning me around to survey my body for injuries.
“No, it’s his—it’s Grantian’s b-blood,” I whimper as it finally hits me that he’s been gravely wounded. “We’ve got to get him back to Nicari—I can’t—I can’t…”
I stumble on my words because I can’t stop myself from thinking about the possibility of him not making it out of this alive. I can’t have finally found the one person I’m meant to spend my life with only to lose him mere days later.
“He’s not going to die, Lamira. Solair and Zander have him and he’s not going anywhere but directly to the medbay on the Queen where Nicari will fix him.” Varia must recognize the pure terror in my eyes.
Just as she finishes attempting to reassure me, that damned voice sounds again.
Self-destruct sequence initiated. Please make your way to the nearest exit and clear the building by at least fifteen hundred feet. Detonation will commence in two minutes.
“Dammit, we’ve gotta move!” That’s Zander’s voice, pulling me out of my morbid thoughts and back to the present. I watch as he and Solair lift Grantian into their arms in a fireman’s hold before instructing Varia, Fiona, and me to follow them.
Now that Grantian’s not slowing us down, we’re able to quickly navigate the darkened, twisting halls. We burst out of the building just as the sun’s beginning to rise. As we exit, the disembodied voice advises we have one minute to clear the building by at least half a klick. My mind reels with the thought of exactly how I’m going to run that far in a minute’s time, as I’m not even remotely athletic, but I immediately notice that the Queen has been moved closer to the entrance of the building. Her engines are already roaring, as if Swipt has the takeoff controls engaged but his foot planted firmly on the brake until we arrive on board.
Solair must have advised him to be ready for a quick takeoff at some point during my capture. He’s not the captain for nothing.
The six of us hightail it onto the ship, meeting up with Montier who’s evidently been waiting for us. As soon as we’ve all cleared the door his fingers fly over the control panel next to it, engaging the mechanisms to pull up the ramp and secure the exit.
“All crew, brace for a rough takeoff. Shit’s about to get real bumpy, real fast!”
That’s Swipt’s voice over the ship-wide comms system. I look over to Solair and Zander who are still holding my very pale mate.
“There’s no time. We have to get him to the medbay!” I yell.
They both look at me like I’ve completely lost my mind, but I move so quickly and with such purpose that neither of them try to stop me. Instead of locking into the jump seats in the hold as Varia, Fiona, and Montier do, Solair, Zander, and I take off deeper into the ship in the direction of the medbay.
“Nicari, we’re incoming. Grantian’s going to need your help. Prepare for possible surgery and for all the gods’ sakes, don’t injure yourself in the process!” Solair says into his comms cuff.
We’re thrown to and fro as the Queen rockets back into the atmosphere but manage to stay upright. Both Kilgari let out a string of curses a mile long but press on.
Nicari is ready and waiting when we finally make it to the medbay. Grantian lets put a yelp of pain as Solair and Zander lower him onto a prepared stretcher, his normally vibrant skin now so pale and clammy.
I push the two males out of the way and take his hand, squeezing his fingers in mine.
“You’re going to be okay. We’re back on the Queen now. Nicari’s going to make you as good as new,” I whisper to him, tears now flowing freely down my cheeks.
He barely has the strength left to look at me, but his eyes gaze into mine for a moment before he lifts a bloody hand to caress my cheek.
“Lamira, I—” is all he says before he passes out.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Grantian
For the first moment after opening my eyes I’m not sure where I am. Everything is too bright, too white, and smells too clean. It’s too quiet, except for a steady, yet intermittent beeping sound coming from somewhere behind me.
My head pounds so hard I can barely find the strength to focus. I wish someone would turn down the damn lights. I want to say as much, but my mouth feels like a desert. My tongue is indeed stuck to the roof of my mouth, which makes swallowing difficult and talking even more so.
I wish I could keep my eyes open long enough to figure out where I am. I’ve never liked not knowing my whereabouts, which is likely what made me such a good soldier back in my days with the Hael Hounds. I was always the one studying maps and doing reconnaissance because forewarned is forearmed.
My memories come back to me slowly as I come to consciousness. The last thing I recall is rescuing Lamira from those Vakutan-Odex hybrids. She jumped into my arms and then noticed I’d been hurt and then… Then what happened? After that, everything went dark. Did we make it out of the facility on Solace? Did she make it out?
The thought of her brings me fully back to my senses. I force my eyes open and survey the room, despite the burning light. Now that I’m hellbent on figuring out what happened, I start to recognize my surroundings. The room I’m in looks an awful lot like the medbay aboard the Ancestral Queen, but it couldn’t be. Could it?
I push myself up into a semi-seated position, barely able to hold my own weight, and that’s when I notice a woman seated in a chair next to me. Well, seated is too gracious a term for the position she’s in. She’s sitting in a chair alright, but half of her is sprawled out on the bed next to me, head resting on one of her folded arms with rich, dark hair splayed out all around her. The other arm is outstretched toward me, and when I look down, I see our fingers tangled together.
Lamira.
She made it out. We both did. We’re together and alive and safe, secured in the infirmary aboard the Queen.
I look down at her, completely torn. I want so badly to wake her, to look upon her beautiful face, stare into those fathomless eyes and thank her for getting me here—because I know in my gut she got me to safety—but at the same time, I just want her to rest. I have no idea how long I’ve been unconscious or how long she’s been lying here by my side. She must be completely exhausted to have fallen asleep in the position she
’s in because it looks supremely uncomfortable.
I can’t help but think about how many times she’s been in danger since we confirmed our mating bond. I hate thinking that being tied to me for the rest of her life might someday bring her harm. I’ll die to keep her safe, and if things keep going the way they have been as of late, I fear that day might come sooner than we think.
Absentmindedly, I give her hand a gentle squeeze. The action causes her to instantly rouse from her slumber, her head shooting up and her eyes seeking out mine immediately.
“Oh, gods, you’re finally awake!” She hits me with a beaming smile, causing my heart to gallop in my chest.
I nod and clear my throat as best I can before attempting to speak. Without my having to ask, she reaches over to the table beside my bed and brings a glass of water with a straw in it to my lips. I take a long pull, swallowing it down so quickly I may as well have been dying of thirst.
“Thank you,” I choke out. “And yes, I’m finally awake and so, so glad to see you.”
At the sound of my voice her brilliant smile instantly fades. The beautiful features of her face crumple and she sobs in earnest, dropping her head into her hands.
“Hey, hey—there’s no need for that.” With a pained grunt I haul myself up into a full sitting position and reach out to her, pulling her next to me on the bed.
She wraps her tiny body around me as far as it can go. Her arms are so short she can’t reach them all the way across my chest, but she clings to me anyway. She buries her face against my neck as her tears come hot and steady, burning into my skin. I’m wearing only a thin, infirmary-issue shirt and it’s soon soaked through. But I keep holding onto her, not at all willing to let her go.
“I was so worried. You’ve been unconscious for days!” Her words come out in broken gasps. “Even Nicari wasn’t sure you were going to make it. The wound you got from those creatures went in so deep it almost grazed your heart. I kept thinking how unfair it was that just when I’d found you, I might lose you, and I just—I just—”