Her Alien Alpha (Salvaged Hearts Book 1)

by Leslie Chase

  Another few seconds and we’d have both died. Or if their leader had been willing to fire his plasma gun sooner, shooting through his men. How did criminals get their hands on that kind of military hardware?

  I shook my head, dismissing that thought. There were more urgent questions to answer. I’d found a miracle, a mate, a female that called to the sacred heart of my being. Why did these gangsters wish to take that from me?

  Their reasons didn’t matter. Their intentions didn’t matter. They’d die for endangering her. But that didn’t excuse my carelessness. I’d underestimated a foe, and my mate almost died as a result.

  I would redeem myself for that. Taking the blast of a plasma grenade for her made a good start. The wounds on my back tingled and itched, whatever she’d sprayed on the injuries irritating them. Hopefully it helped my healing as well.

  Khaa-Ree yelped behind me, tugging on my hand, and I spun to see her hopping on one foot. The words she muttered under her breath had to be swearwords, and my implants dutifully added them to the lexicon.

  No attacker in view. No weapon, no enemy. I looked again. At her feet, a discarded piece of metal. At her bare feet.

  I cursed. Of course this soft, beautiful creature needed more protection than I did. Such obstacles wouldn’t pierce my skin, I wouldn’t have noticed stepping on it, but humans were more fragile.

  That should not be a surprise, I told myself. Every species is more fragile than the Caibar. But part of me unconsciously extended that strength to Khaa-Ree, expecting her to be as tough as I was.

  Another foolish error, one I needed to remedy. Satisfying myself that there was no approaching danger, no sounds of pursuit behind us, I guided my mate to the decking, propping her against a wall and examining her injured limb. To my relief, the sharp metal hadn’t pierced her skin — no danger of infection. The next time she might not be so lucky.

  “There will be no next time,” I announced, straightening up and lifting her across my shoulder. She let out an exclamation of shock, and her small hands pushed at me. Perhaps I should have tried saying that in her language?

  “You are safer there.” Still clumsy, the computer feeding me words too slowly. I needed more input to get fluent, and the only way to do that was to listen to my mate speak. “Khaa-Ree, talk while we go.”

  I set off again, happier with the pace now that I wasn’t guiding a human barefoot in the dark. Khaa-Ree squealed, slamming her fists against my back, but I ignored that. Eventually she gave in and talked, my computer working on a translation as we went.

  Most of it was a litany of ‘you can’t do this’ and ‘put me down’ and ‘how can you move so fast’. Not the most helpful of phrases to learn, admittedly, though anything helped. I tried to steer the conversation and answer some mysteries of my own.

  “Khaa-Ree,” I said, interrupting her. “Tell me of your people, of your homeworld.”

  Her mouth shut with a snap, and I felt her glare though I couldn’t see it. But lacking anything else to do as I carried her through the tunnels, she relented and spoke.

  “Fine, you want to know about Earth? It’s a shithole. Well, unless you’re rich.” She sighed. “Too many people, not enough clean water, no one’s got enough food or land… it’s hellish. We got out of there as soon as we could. What about you? What’s your world like?”

  Memories of Home surfaced, the great trees rising to shield us from the burning sun, my mother laughing as the rain fell on our village, a hirox charging out of the morning mist and being brought down by the hunters. A sea full of fish, and the deadly predators that fed on them, waiting to take an overconfident Caibar fisher when they had the chance.

  And then the fires in the night sky, the deadly lines of crimson light, the buildings in flames. I shuddered, halting and drawing a deep breath.

  Not yet.

  “Khaa-Ree, I must hear your words to learn them,” I said. A valid objection, even if it wasn’t what held me back. “Speak. Your Earth must be far away, why are you here?”

  “Making a life for myself on Earth was impossible,” she said with a distant, almost forgotten bitterness. “My parents had a farm, but that was always shaky business. Dad took on too much debt trying to keep things running, looking for the miracle that would get us out from under. It never came, we lost the farm, and trying to get other work? Forget it. The big corps have everything sown up; the only jobs are scraps that get you further into debt. Either you have family connections, make contacts at one of the few ‘good’ universities, or you starve. Of course, for women there’s another choice.”

  She fell silent, a brooding angry quiet that filled the space around us. Slowing, I held her close, cradling my beloved and comforting her in silence. Khaa-Ree didn’t need my words, she needed to feel safe enough to share whatever memory troubled her.

  Eventually, she continued. “There are plenty of rich men who want companions, and any girl who’s pretty enough has a way out of poverty. As long as her looks last, anyway, and longer if she’s clever with her pay.”

  Rage flooded through me, and I tried to control the energy so I didn’t frighten my mate. The thought that males had suggested that to her… I breathed deep, inhaling her scent and calming. They were lightyears away; getting vengeance for that insult would need to wait. And I might have misunderstood, my computer still at work learning her language. I kept listening, reserving judgement.

  “I kept getting those offers, and no others. So I scraped together what money I could for a ship and bought out a salvage contract. So far I’m making it work.”

  Salvage? True, the station was in dire need of repair, and it looked like looters had been through more than once. But for there to be salvage contracts implied a long-term occupation. I paid more attention to the sights we passed, trying to work out where I was.

  The wreckage of the levels we'd fallen into was far worse than those above, enough to make me wonder what catastrophe had struck. Twice I had to make my way across a single girder, suspended above a fatal drop. Three times more I had to turn back from a collapsed section. At least the dark meant Khaa-Ree didn’t see the dangers we traversed.

  The station was clearly Imperial, but equally obviously the Empire didn’t hold it. I tried to tell myself that was good news, that our rebellion must have succeeded.

  My heart knew better. If we’d won, we’d be in charge and things wouldn’t be this bad. Had both sides lost? I needed to know what was happening, how long I’d slept in suspension, and what was happening now.

  It was hard to focus on that question over the heady joy of having found my mate. One not of my species! That changed everything, if it was real. And it was impossible to doubt while the soft, wonderfully curvy form of Khaa-Ree pressed against me.

  Signs of habitation were slow to appear. When I came across working water pipes, I followed the flow. Then came occasional lights. Discarded food cans, long abandoned squatter camps. Slowly the air grew cleaner, atmosphere scrubbers fighting the pollution.

  Through it all, Khaa-Ree kept talking and my implants learned more and more. By the time we approached habitable areas, the computer claimed full fluency. Choosing the first relatively secure location I found, I lowered her to the deck and crouched before her.

  The sight of her looking back at me enflamed my desire again. I growled, nearly pouncing and claiming her on the spot, but no. I would not risk getting distracted.

  Not even if I could feel her desire for me, smell it, taste it. Lost Home, I had fought some hard battles in my time but the fight against my need for her was the most difficult.

  “What happened here?” I asked, as much for a distraction as anything else. “To the station, I mean. To the Empire who built it.”

  Khaa-Ree bit her lip, distracted by her own thoughts about me. That small cute gesture almost broke my resolve, but I held myself back. Not now. Not yet.

  When I claimed her, it would be perfect. Not in some grubby abandoned corridor.

  “I don’t know,”
she said, blushing and looking away. “There was a great Empire here, decades ago. Then a civil war, everything got trashed, the center fell apart. Some people say there’s still fighting going on deeper into what used to be the Empire, but both sides pulled out of this cluster.”

  I frowned, trying to process that. That short explanation held a lot to think about, but it fitted. Fitted the evidence I’d refused to accept, refused even to see. This station with its old, old damage, inhabited by species I’d never even heard of. It made sense, but my mind rebelled against the conclusion.

  Decades? I’d slept for decades? The war being fought to a standstill, both sides worn down, the Empire falling into ruin…

  The fate of the rebellion was bad enough, but what it meant for my quest to return Home was worse. I checked the words, making sure that the translator program was working properly, that there was no other way to interpret Khaa-Ree’s words. None presented themselves. Even if I found my Home again, everyone I’d known there would be long dead.

  Khaa-Ree said something more, but the words didn’t reach me. My mind was like a runaway rocket, hurtling through a nebula of painful thoughts.

  11

  Carrie

  Delkor crouched against the grimy wall, eyes staring into the shadows outside the flickering cone of light he’d stopped in. His eyes gazed into the past, or maybe the future. Certainly not at the present.

  Had what I said upset him this much? I swallowed, dry-mouthed, and thought about what it would be like to wake up and find you’d been asleep for that long? Fifty years ago, Earth was still the center of human space. The Smith-Hsu Accords hadn’t been signed. There were still icecaps at Earth’s poles.

  Sleeping through all that history, all those changes? All the people he knew who’d have died in that time? That would shake anyone. And Delkor had it worse. His entire nation, gone — whichever side of the civil war he’d fought on, both had lost. No wonder he had a hard time getting to grips with it.

  But that didn’t change the danger we were in. We couldn’t sit here and wait. Without supplies, even if no one came hunting for us we wouldn’t last very long. Or at least I wouldn’t; for all I knew, Delkor could go a month without water or something.

  “Hey,” I tried, edging closer to the giant warrior. “We’ve got to get moving.”

  No reply. No response at all. It was as though he was a broken machine rather than a person. I wondered if that was it — with all his cyborg implants Delkor might be suffering from a computer crash.

  “Okay, big guy, you’ve got to move,” I tried again. “I can’t carry you, remember?”

  Nothing. I reached out to shake his shoulder—

  —the hard deck was at my back, the air knocked out of my lungs, Delkor’s eyes stared into mine. His hand gripped my right wrist, fingers almost tight enough to bruise. Whatever he’d done, it had happened so quickly I didn’t even have time to be surprised by it.

  “You should not startle me,” he said in a quiet growl, letting go and rising.

  I pulled myself to my feet, rubbing my wrist. “I think I’ve learned that lesson.”

  Had I? I wasn’t sure. Because while I felt a stab of embarrassment at how easily he’d manhandled me, that wasn’t all I felt. Breathless, heart racing, my body responded to his forceful touch and his precise skill. Even startled, shocked into defending himself, he’d pinned me without hurting me.

  Remembering the night before, I decided that Delkor could throw me around anytime. But preferably in a room with a bed, not a stretch of abandoned corridor.

  “You are right, we must move,” he said, dragging my attention back to the present. “I must find the rest of my pack.”

  I shivered at the thought of them — more Caibar warriors, trapped in stasis and waiting for someone to find them. Now that I’d seen how dangerous Delkor was, I understood why Syrcen had been so eager to get hold of the others. Find a way to control a few of these killers and you’d have an army. Someone would pay well for them, or perhaps Syrcen had his own dreams of conquest.

  Delkor must be going through hell. I’d been separated from my crew for less than a day and I was already anxious. He’d been apart from his pack for decades.

  The thought of my crew waiting at the ship sent a pang of guilt through me. The longer we took, the more danger there was that Michaela would try a rescue. There was no way that would go well.

  “I have to get back to my ship,” I told Delkor. “My crew will be worried sick, and if I don’t show up soon they’ll do something stupid. Then we can see about finding the rest of your pack, okay?”

  Something flashed in his eyes, his lips drew back from his teeth in a dangerous-looking snarl. His voice was low, steady, deadly. Suspicious, almost. “Your ship has a crew? Who is on it?”

  Jealous, much? To my surprise, I kind of liked that, but this wasn’t a good time for misunderstandings. Especially not with someone as dangerous as Delkor. “Don’t worry, there aren’t any men. I’m not the only woman who wanted to leave the Terran Oligarchy behind; we came out here to set up for ourselves and get away from the men back on Earth.”

  His anger subsided as fast as it had come, replaced by something else, something harder to identify. Was he dreaming of a harem? If so, he could keep dreaming — I don’t share my man.

  Carrie. He isn’t ‘your’ man. He isn’t your anything. It didn’t matter what my rational mind thought, though. Reason had nothing to do with this.

  “There are more females of your species here?” Delkor asked, not doing anything to allay my suspicions. I nodded cautiously, my eyes narrowing as his eyes lit up. “We must return you to them, then.”

  I folded my arms, and my suspicion must have shown on my face. Delkor barked a laugh loud enough to shake the corridor before he seized control of himself and took me by the shoulders. His golden eyes looked into mine, and for the first time I realized that they weren’t natural. Ghosts of alien letters skittered across them, and I wondered what they said.

  But natural or not, I saw his conviction in them. His concern. “Khaa-Ree, do not concern yourself. I am a Caibar warrior and once I have claimed my mate I will take no other.”

  “Oh yeah? I’ve heard that before.” He sounded sincere. So did every married man who eventually ran off with his secretary. I kept my arms folded, resisting his charms with all my willpower. “Why are you so interested in the others, then?”

  A sadness flickered across his face, just for a moment. “My people are dying.”

  That was not among the answers I’d expected. I opened my mouth, realized I had no idea what to say, closed it again.

  “We need our mates, that’s how the Empire controlled us,” he continued, quiet anger growing as he spoke. His flesh hand tightened on my shoulder, not enough to hurt but enough to remind me that he could crush my bones without effort if he wanted to.

  “My species, the Caibar, we mate for life,” he continued. “We search out our mate and live for them, and those of us who cannot find and bond to a mate wither and die. The Imperials stole me from Home when I was just a child, that’s how they recruit their Caibar warriors.”

  I swallowed, taken aback by the bleak bitterness of his words, and let him speak. He turned away and started walking, tail lashing behind him, leading me slowly down the corridor. Anger radiated from him as he continued.

  “They came in the night, dropping out of the sky on pillars of flame, capturing the male children. I barely remember Home now, but I can’t forget that night. The fires sweeping through the village, the armored soldiers floating on antigravity platforms, my mother’s arms as they pulled me from her grip. It’s burned into my mind.”

  “That’s awful,” I whispered, unable to keep quiet any longer. Taking his hand in mine, I tried to think of words that might comfort him. But with a pain this big, this powerful, what words would be enough? There was nothing to say that would erase the horror he’d been through. We walked on in silence aside from the ominous creaking and hissing
of the damaged station.

  We need to move on, I told myself. He needs to get this out, to talk about it. And I need to understand what happened. We both do.

  Giving Delkor’s hand a squeeze, I tried to move the discussion away from his homeworld and onto something less personal.

  “You said that your people die without their mates?” I asked, trying to prod him into continuing. “How did they keep you alive to fight for them?”

  He nodded again, surfacing from the ocean of pain he’d sunk into. Drawing a deep breath, he looked round at me. His artificial eyes bored right into my soul, and I saw into his, filled with pain and darkness. He needed my help, needed to let the memories out.

  “Yes, a Caibar without his mate sickens and dies. But the Empire is cunning, has millennia of learning to draw on. So Imperial scientists managed a clever trick.” He spat the last words like a curse. “Whatever a mate bond does to sustain us, they duplicated it in a lab. An implant that made the Empire itself ‘count’ somehow, fooling the bond.

  “We obey them, or we suffer and die. And of course they showed us what that would be like so we knew never to disobey. One of the other boys from my village, captured beside me… they didn’t give him the implant. I watched him sicken, weaken, and die in agony.”

  A tremor ran through him, and my muscles tensed in response. Visceral anger flooded my mind, a hatred for these people I’d never met and never would. But what bastards would do something like that? Snatch children, raise them as soldiers, and trap them with their own biology?

  Delkor managed a chuckle, squeezing my hand. “Do not let it trouble you, Khaa-Ree. All the Imperials who did that to me are long dead, I’ve washed their blood from my claws.”

  Now he was trying to comfort me for pain he had suffered. I almost laughed at the absurdity, shaking my head and leaning against the rusty wall. Metal creaked and I stepped away again — nothing here was safe.