by Tana Stone
“I never thought of it like that,” Mandy said, letting out a breath. “That makes me feel so much better.”
Dorn cocked an eyebrow at her. “How much better?”
She gave him a small push. “Not that much better. Aren’t you supposed to be with the groom, anyway?”
Dorn laughed. “You see how bossy she is with me?”
“Turnabout’s fair play.” Mandy winked at him. “I still owe you big time, buddy.”
Dorn backed away, and Bridget pretended to fan herself. “I’m glad to see things haven’t cooled down between you two.”
“Drexian men are full of surprises,” Mandy said. “The biggest one being Dorn arranging for me to intern in the medical bay.”
“I’m so glad you’re working there.” Bridget squeezed her hand. “I knew you were a natural when I saw you take care of Dorn’s injuries.”
“It’s something I’ve always wanted to learn more about, but society girls in LA don’t become nurses or paramedics,” Mandy said, blinking away tears. “Here, I can be.”
Trista and Bridget both put an arm around her as Serge scolded them not to mess up their makeup.
“First, Reina gets to update the tribute bride program, and now you get something cool to do,” Bridget said.
Serge almost dropped the bouquets. “Reina’s doing what?”
“Don’t worry,” Mandy said, with a wave of her hand toward Serge. “She’s not muscling in on your job. She’s just updating some of their designs. The 70s influence has got to go.”
Her eyes drifted to Serge’s forest-green velvet suit with flared lapels and gold piping.
“What?” he asked. “Monti and Randi said this suit would be perfect for a winter wedding.”
Bridget squeezed his hand. “I think you look nice.”
Serge sniffed. “One does try.”
“I don’t mind the 70s,” Trista said. “I still think Farah Fawcett had the best hair.”
Mandy appraised the blonde, tapping one polished fingernail on her chin. “You could pull off Farah Fawcett hair.”
“Could we please focus?” Serge rolled his eyes as he shook his head.
Reina hurried up, her blue hair blending perfectly with the frosty setting. “Kax is ready. As soon as the music starts, we can send you down the aisle.”
Bridget’s stomach fluttered as the sounds of a flute playing “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” wafted down the aisle. Serge thrust a bouquet in her hand, and Reina picked up Bridget’s train and unfurled it behind her.
Mandy gave her had a squeeze. “Remember, just say yes to everything they ask you.” She stepped forward as Serge motioned for her to begin walking behind Trista. “I’ll see you down there.”
Bridget concentrated on taking deep, steady breaths. There was no reason to be nervous. She was marrying the guy she was head-over-heels in love with. They’d both convinced the High Command she wouldn’t marry anyone but him, and had gotten approval for their wedding and to stay in Bridget’s fantasy suite. Everything had worked out perfectly.
Sure, Karsh hadn’t been happy, but he’d left the station to take command of a ship far away from Earth and close to several pleasure planets, so Bridget figured he’d get over the whole thing pretty quickly.
Kax had even gotten special permission to delay his next mission until after their wedding and honeymoon. She felt her insides warm at the thought of spending the next few days curled up next to Kax. Even though she’d never imagined she’d live on an alien space station with holographic oceans and chalets perched on fake mountains, there was no place she’d rather be.
Serge waved her forward and she felt Reina straighten her veil. As she stepped around the sheer divider, she spotted Kax standing at the end of the aisle under the illuminated tree branches. His hair was spiked up, and he sported the faint stubble she found so sexy. He smiled when he saw her, his green eyes shining with what she suspected might be tears. He blinked a few times and straightened his broad shoulders, the sash across his military uniform pulling taut.
Bridget knew she should be thinking about the solemn promises she was about to make, but the only thought going through her mind was how fast she could get him out of his uniform. She winked at him, her tongue wetting her bottom lip, and saw his pupils dilate. Being married to a Drexian warrior was going to be fun.
Epilogue
Krav attempted to push the rubble off his legs as sirens screamed overhead. The air was filled with the acrid smell of burning, and he coughed as it seared his throat.
“Commander!” The voice sounded far away even though he saw the soldier leaning over him. “Commander Krav, we’re going to get you out of here.”
Krav let his gaze shift from the soldier’s face to the torn ceiling overhead. The explosion had blasted a hole in the building and brought down part of the floor above him. Metal beams and wires hung down from the gaping hole, and black blood splattered what remained of the walls.
The last thing Krav remembered was seeing that Drexian only moments before the bomb detonated. The one who’d taken his female and ruined his plans. Anger surged through him, but was dampened by sharp pain as he attempted to move.
He looked down to where Kronock soldiers were trying to remove a fragment of a metal beam from across his legs. As they lifted it, black fluid gushed from his thighs and his vision blurred.
“Vos,” he called, hearing the weakness in his own voice and gritting his teeth. “Where is Vos?”
“I am here, Commander.”
Although it was covered in dust and smeared with red, Krav let out a long breath when he saw the familiar face. He reached for the soldier’s hand, pulling him close. “You must finish what I started.”
“You will finish it yourself, Commander.”
Krav gave a rough shake of his head. “I will not, but you will.” He gripped the hand tightly. “You must. Remember what I taught you. Remember my plan. Our plan.”
“Find a human female,” Vos said, his voice flat, as if he’d repeated these things many times. “Take from her what we did not get from the other one. Make her Kronock. Then make all the humans Kronock.”
“Yes.” Krav was pleased to hear his own words echoed back to him. He locked eyes with the soldier above him. “If we destroy the humans, we destroy the Drexians.”
Vos flinched. “Yes, Krav.”
As the Kronock commander felt the blood pumping out of him and the screams in the background faded, he hoped he’d been right about Vos. He’d put so much into the soldier—so much training, so much trust, so much hope.
“You will not be alone,” he said, spitting out the words through the pain. “Remember the ones on the inside. They are key to our plan.”
Vos was also a key to Krav’s master plan. It wasn’t enough to bring down his enemy. Krav believed a war strategy should have a certain poetic justice. He swallowed, tasting the bitter tang of his own blood, and looked into the turquoise blue eyes of his protégé.
Krav wished he could see his enemy’s reaction. To be destroyed by one of their own? How sweet it would be, he thought, as he breathed out for the last time, a grin twisting his thin, gray lips.
THE END
I hope you enjoyed Bridget and Kax’s story! For a sneak peek of book 3 in the series, turn the page!
Sneak Peek of EXPOSED—Book 3 in the Tribute Brides of the Drexian Warriors Series
Chapter One
Zayn worked the chains fastened around his wrists, feeling the weak spot he’d made over the past few weeks with a loose shard of steel. Just a little more and he’d be free, he thought, straining against the metal and pushing the pain aside. Blood trickled down his wrist, but he ignored the sharp tang that hit his nose. It wasn’t worse than anything else he’d smelled since being thrown into the dungeon over a month ago.
He glanced around the dank cell that held nothing more than a cot and a metal bucket. Considering how technologically advanced his enemy was, Zayn had been surprised to find their pris
on so rudimentary. Of course, he hadn’t known just how advanced the Kronock had become until he’d been taken captive.
He let out a low growl and the rusted metal walls echoed it back to him. Being captured had not been part of the plan. As a member of the Drexian military team sent to defend a research colony near enemy space, his mission had been to repel the Kronock and destroy their ships. That hadn’t worked out so well when his entire team had been slaughtered by an enemy considerably more sophisticated than they’d suspected. Well, not the entire team. Him, they’d kept alive.
He tried not to think about the surprise attack that had left the other warriors dead and had landed him inside a Kronock prison. His people hadn’t ventured into enemy territory in decades, battling their crude and brutish foes on the borders of Kronock space and repelling the would-be invaders on the outskirts of the solar system the Drexians protected. They had no need. The Kronock were predictable in their attacks, but they were outmatched by Drexian technology and warfare. Had been since they first attempted to invade Earth over thirty years earlier. Or so his people had thought.
Zayn’s blood heated as he flashed back to how easily the Kronock had disabled their weapons, the efficient way the gray-scaled creatures had slaughtered his comrades, and the sophisticated ship they’d dragged him onto, bloody and broken. It was clear to him now that the enemy had spent years lying low and pretending to be oafish brutes, all the while developing technology to blow the Drexians—and Earthlings—out of the sky.
The only thing they hadn’t changed was how they tortured captives. That had been old school. A sharp pain pierced his side as he breathed in too quickly, and he knew he had at least one broken rib. The skin on his arms had stopped healing from the lashes he’d taken with a laser whip, the gashes deep and oozing. He shook off the discomfort. They would heal once he was away from the daily abuse, as would the skin on his wrist he was scraping off as he loosened his chains. The crucial thing was getting off the ship and back to his people so he could tell them what he’d learned.
Zayn tugged at his wrists and felt the metal give, finally snapping and clattering to the floor. He paused to listen for the rush of feet, but there was nothing. He touched his raw flesh, grateful to be free of the shackles and the burden of dragging the heavy chain with him when he moved. Shaking his hands to regain some of the feeling, he ran them through his hair. It had become shaggy and matted in the weeks or months he’d been held—he’d lost all track of time in the dark cell—and his fingers tangled in the dark locks.
“Time to have another chat with the General,” a voice said, from the end of the corridor.
Hi auditory implant made is easy for him to understand the guttural words of his enemy, but still, the rough sounds grated on his nerves.
Zayn reluctantly picked up the chains again and held them around his wrists, flinching from the contact and hoping his jailor wouldn’t notice the broken clasp. He didn’t respond to the Kronock. He never did. He never said a word, a tactic that had earned him more electric shocks than he could count, and beatings so severe he usually blacked out and had to be carried back to his cell. The worst had been when they’d electrified the bumpy nodes running along the length of his spine. Normally an indicator of arousal, they were sensitive to touch, and he’d writhed in pain each time they’d sent a jolt through them.
A tall alien approached the door, his wide, clawed feet tapping on the floor and announcing his arrival before his bald, scaled head appeared in the window. He looked at Zayn through the metal panel grafted to his eye socket, and the red, bionic eye flashed as it scanned him. Zayn had learned that aside from being huge and strong, some of the Kronock had augmented themselves with technology, the bionic eyes being the most obvious addition. He knew there was more he couldn’t see beneath the armor grafted to their scales, which was why they’d been able to overpower him and his team. Zayn swallowed the taste of bile as he thought of how outmatched they’d been. That was why he would need to be faster and smarter to make it out alive.
As the door creaked open, Zayn took a breath. This is it, he thought. Now or never.
The Kronock stepped inside to take him by the arm as he usually did, but at the last moment Zayn feinted to one side, rolling his shoulder and spinning around, before whipping the chains around the jailor’s head and darting for the door. Stunned, it took the Kronock a moment to react, and by that time, Zayn had slammed the door shut behind him and locked him in.
Zayn didn’t stop to listen for the roar of frustration. He was already halfway down the corridor, when he heard a noise to his left and swung his head toward one of the cell doors. The noise wasn’t the harsh language of the Kronock. It was the Drexian language. It might have been weeks or months since he’d heard it spoken anywhere but in his own head, but he knew the sound of his own tongue.
He glanced through the window cut into the door and saw a bare, muscular back hunched over in the corner, the bronze skin and raised nodes confirming his initial guess. This was a Drexian.
“Brother,” he called out. “Come with me.”
The man raised his head but didn’t turn. “You’re Drexian?”
“Yes,” Zayn said, impatient to get away but not willing to leave another warrior behind. “I’m getting out of here, and you’re coming with me.”
The Drexian shook his head. “Impossible. Go without me.”
“I can get you out,” Zayn said, leaning against the metal bars and being startled when the door swung open.
The Drexian prisoner stood, his hands in tight fights by his side. “It’s too late for me. Go before they come for you.”
Zayn started to shake his head when the other prisoner turned and focused his red, bionic eye on him. “They’ve made me one of them. I can’t go back after what they’ve done to me. After what they’ve put inside my head.” His arms shook as he spoke. “Even now, I have an urge to kill you.”
Zayn backed away, his throat constricting and making it difficult to speak.
“Go,” the Drexian hybrid strode forward and pushed the door shut. “Save yourself.”
Zayn stumbled away, his eyes not leaving the cell door that had not been locked.
“Wait,” the Drexian called after him.
Zayn met his eyes.
“The next time you see me.” The red eye blinked as he spoke. “Do not hesitate to kill me.”
Zayn didn’t answer, his gut twisting in a knot as he continued down the hall. The guard station was empty, but the metal wall cabinet that held extra weapons was not. He ripped the cabinet door off its hinges and grabbed two blasters from inside. He guessed he had no more than a minute before his escape was detected, so he needed to move fast. He pushed the thought of the other Drexian warrior out of his mind. If he let the feelings of rage and regret fill him, he would not be able to do what he needed to do.
Running down another narrow hallway, Zayn ducked into a closet as he heard footsteps pounding toward him. He’d learned what he knew about the ship by feigning unconsciousness when he was dragged back and forth from being tortured. Sometimes his eyes really had been swollen shut, but other times he’d only pretended to be half dead. If his memory served him, the shuttle bays and flight decks were one level up. He glanced above him, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw a vent covering.
Zayn clambered up into the ceiling and pulled the covering back into place. Crawling as quietly as he could, he followed the vents up, using his elbows and knees to gain traction in the tubes. When he was sure he’d reached the right level, he slid a panel back and dipped his head down.
The dim corridor was empty, so he lowered himself, holding on with one hand as he slid the ceiling panel back into place before landing on the floor with a thud. He kept close to the wall as he hurried toward a wide door, which slid open as soon as he stood in front of it.
“You’re going to make it,” he whispered to himself as he took in the expansive flight deck.
Ducking out of sight behind a stack of meta
l barrels, he eyed the array of ships. He needed to find one that was leaving as soon as possible, and one big enough on which to stow away. That eliminated the shiny, two-seater fighters, and the cargo ships still loading up. His gaze lingered on a rusted, banged-up ship, and he watched a squat alien pilot stride on board, rolls of dark purple flesh jiggling as he walked.
“A scavenger,” he said, rubbing his hands together. He recognized the rotund alien as a trader of space junk. It wasn’t the fastest ship, or the best smelling, but it would probably get the least amount of scrutiny.
Edging his way around the flight deck by darting between crates and containers, he dashed up the ship’s ramp as it began to lift and rolled into the ship. As he watched the ramp slam shut behind him, he flinched. After being the only member of his team to survive, he was now leaving a Drexian behind. Not really a Drexian anymore, he reminded himself, taking a breath and trying not to think of the metal eye implant grafted into his kinsman’s flesh.
He looked around the quiet ship and guessed the captain was busy piloting, so he crept to the rear, slipping into a particularly dirty bathroom just big enough for him to close the door while holding his breath.
Zayn felt the ship begin to move, then accelerate, and when he felt the jump to light speed he let his shoulders relax long enough to shift the grip on his blaster. He stepped out and cracked his neck by twisting it from side to side. “Time to talk to the pilot about setting a new course.”
Chapter Two
Katie walked along Rodeo Drive, her camera tucked into a pink leather bag slung over her shoulder as she scouted the sidewalk looking for celebrities. She tried to look casual as she peered into the storefronts, but she was a bundle of nerves. It didn’t help that it was a thousand degrees, and she’d had to cover her hair with a scarf.
“Come on,” she muttered to herself. “There has to be a Hilton heiress out shopping today. Or a Kardashian. I need something.”