Defiler

by Cari Silverwood

Interestingly, though she seemed unslowed, she was breathing hard. The material of her shirt clung to her breasts. Nipples, he could see nipples. Sweat dampened her also.

  He remembered to take in air a minute later.

  “Begin!” he shouted. “If you overstep and harm him, I will be unhappy. Your power may make you fast but you’re new to it.”

  Brask shot him an angry glare. The man didn’t like being assumed the loser.

  He would learn.

  Once they were intent on each other, he adjusted his internal temperature by flushing heat through his neck scales. He doubted Talia even knew the scales were not all his natural body. Like Brask, he wore artificial armor. It matched his natural scales so well that few ever saw where one ended and the other began. Uncomfortable to the point of pain, he reached under his scale armor and rearranged his double cocks.

  Now those would definitely surprise this female. Having both of them erect was unusual. He shut his eyes and breathed slowly. Fifteen years? Yes, plus a few Earth days and hours since he’d had a double erection.

  She was going to kill him with desire, yet he could never afford to mate with her.

  He opened his eyes and made himself watch them.

  The sweep of their combat took them around the space, chairs flying as they were knocked. Once, her sword screeched along the glass of a window, leaving a streak that glittered. Had she cut it? The blade was blunt.

  As Brask swept his sword at her, Talia leapt for the ceiling to go over the top of him, flipped, and ran along it. Dassenze blinked, his secondary nictitans eyelids flicking across.

  What a surprise. Could she perhaps fly if she became fully empowered?

  Female musculature shuddered from the shock wave when she bounced from the ceiling. A light shattered and dropped plastic fragments onto Brask, but he was already whirling out of the path of Talia. Shards skipped and skimmed across the floor.

  Somehow, on the way to the floor behind him, Talia swished at his back, and cut a slice from his shirt.

  “What the!” Brask’s shout echoed.

  They stood, swords raised, glaring at each other and panting.

  Then Talia smiled, a smile as dominant as a sun rising and as devilish as a Bak-lal approaching a victim. “You’re slow, alien man. I fucking told you so.”

  “Here! Talia!” He barked it out and watched her flinch. Good. She needed to fear at least one person. Her courage, skill, and agility were unquestioned. Her behavior though, it verged on something bad but he couldn’t quite voice it. Stupidity? No. She hadn’t actually cut Brask. No blood. No redness.

  She lowered her sword and paced toward him, trailing the point of her weapon in the carpet. Her smile was still there, if fixed and only tweaking up her mouth at one corner. An angry smile?

  Regardless, she was a novice. And she was doing this to taunt.

  Yes! His eyes opened wider. That was the point, the badness in this. She was trying, deliberately, to annoy Brask.

  A second realization ticked in. And me. She’s defying me.

  Now that could not be tolerated.

  “Yes?” She halted before him, still panting, and he had to make a huge effort so as to not to peruse her entire body and take in all the nuances of a well-exercised, beautifully constructed woman.

  Calm. He had millennia of practice. He settled his heart rate.

  She smirked at him, the same as she had earlier. Resisting reaching out and doing something to her... He narrowed his eyes.

  “Behave.”

  That one grumbled word seemed to shake her. Her smile vanished, her face blanked, but she recovered.

  “Or what? Not that I’m not behaving, although behave is the wrong word. I’m doing as we discussed.”

  The agony of this. Of restraint. She needed a male to fuck her so badly, and still he couldn’t do it.

  “The or is negotiable at present. We’ll take a rest from this. Consider your moves. Think. Then we shall try again.”

  Talia shrugged. “Fine. I’ll see if there’s a functioning ladies’ room here.”

  That suited him. He wanted to talk to Brask alone.

  While she was opening the door to the corridor, a niggling worry made him add, “The building is still accessible to others. Stay alert.”

  “Okay.” She waved her fingers in dismissal without looking back and stepped out.

  Even that seemed defiance and he frowned. What could he do to her in punishment that wouldn’t be construed wrongly? She wasn’t his to discipline.

  Brask tossed his weapon aside and ambled over.

  At Dassenze’s gesture, he sat alongside him on the table. “How can a female be so infuriating?”

  Dassenze chuckled. “Yes. I agree. You’re finding it difficult to adjust for her superiority in combat.”

  “No.” He screwed up his mouth. “She’s fast. Good with a sword. Give me a hand weapon or even close combat and I could beat her.”

  “True. Though pinning her down long enough to grapple with her or to target her would not be easy either.”

  Brask shot him an odd look. “If I could pin her down, this would be over in two seconds.”

  “Hmmm.” The euphemism was obvious. “If you wish to make her yours, you need to be more subtle. Simply glowering and leering will not work on this one. She’s smart. Resistant to nanochem. Resistant to the look also from what you’ve said.”

  “She was. I used it on her three or four times. Not allowed now?” He smiled hopefully at Dassenze.

  “No. I don’t want anything that might mess up her head. The deeper we get into this war against this chaotic factory queen, the more significant these Earth witches appear to be. Besides, you won’t change her attitude by using a look on her.”

  He grunted. “I know. What does more subtle mean?”

  “You want her then?”

  The mean glare was surprising. Brask was one of the more devout.

  “Sorry, Lord. I meant no disrespect.”

  “None was taken.” He repeated the question, even though this took such a sacrifice from him. “You still want her?”

  “Yes. I do.”

  “With your heart? Not just your loins?”

  Brask scrubbed his hand over his blond spiked hair. “Ahhh.” He wrapped his hands over the edge of the table to either side of his knees and stared downward. “I don’t think I’m past the simply wanting her, Lord. A pet is all I ever desired.” Then he looked straight at Dassenze. “Do you want her, with your heart? I’ve seen how you look at her too, Lord.”

  Like a projectile round to the chest that was. Thunk. He closed his mouth.

  Simply handing her over to another male seemed wrong. Especially if Brask only thought of her as a pet. He wanted to be there. To be involved.

  “I can do without. She’s too dangerous to me. I can’t.”

  After a long moment Brask dipped his head. “Of course. Then...what are you suggesting I do?”

  “Let her see who you really are. Not just a mean, efficient soldier. Show you have feelings, history, that she’s more than a thing to fuck or conquer to you.”

  He shifted on the table. “I can’t just take her?”

  “I think it will turn out better if you do it my way.”

  “Me? Feelings? I have those?”

  “I hope so.” If he wanted to keep Talia, he’d better have some.

  Chapter 8

  Talia strode into the room, only to find Brask stripping off his torn shirt then throwing it aside. The sight stopped her dead.

  Muscles. Lots of them. All well-defined. A male torso. Her tongue might need fetching from wherever it went when someone swallowed it. The man moved like a beast too. Just seeing him leaning over to pick up that sword was awe inspiring.

  Well.

  Two could play at that. She took off her top. It was sweaty anyway. Least she knew she had an exercise bra on underneath, unlike the men who froze, waiting, watching.

  She grinned at them.

  This was like shootin
g fish in a barrel. This nanochem strategy was off limits to them as was Dassenze doing anything that might jeopardize her powers. All this attraction business was their fault and she was the best ever at logically convincing her weaker female emotions to take a hike. So why not bug the hell out of them?

  Revenge was sweet. This was the ultimate thrill – teasing two men...well, two male alien guys who lusted after her.

  It almost made her want to twirl her shirt around her head a few times before throwing it. Almost.

  “Begin.”

  She launched, her leg muscles sending her skyward.

  That zing of sword and body energy she derived from being close to Brask was there too, if less. She could get fatigued. Bouncing from the ceiling was currently off the menu. Though bouncing her boobs was not. Crop tops could only do so much when a girl was flinging herself around the room.

  The rhythm of the fight sang to her muscles and her mind. Brask went down to her blade, once, twice. They commenced again. The clunk and clang echoed in the room. Outside was pure darkness due to the window reflecting back the faint light Dassenze possessed. She parried and leapt backward, ready to return.

  “Stop!” Dassenze cried. “Let’s try this instead. Catch.”

  Brask caught the flung object and sent his sword skidding along the table toward Dassenze. The object was small and pistol shaped. He held it up for her to see. “This simulates a handgun, Talia.”

  “Yes. I can tell if it hits you. It emits intermittent bursts of green light. I want to see if you can avoid being shot before reaching Brask. It’s dark. You’re tired. I can see you’re slowing down.”

  “Okay.” He didn’t miss much. She was tiring but so was Brask. She calibrated the hard curves of his arms and the sheen of sweat on his chest and abdomen. These Igrakk aliens didn’t differ much at all from humans.

  “Like what you see?” With his thumb, Brask flicked something on the pistol. A green dot blinked on the floor in front of him.

  “I was simply comparing your anatomy to that of humans.”

  “And? What did you decide?”

  The angle of his eyebrow and timbre of his voice fascinated her. Anatomy sounded clinical and her reaction was definitely not that. Something about having to look up at him, even from across the room, triggered an oh yum response. Next she’d be asking for his autograph.

  She untangled her thoughts and searched for a witty reply. It didn’t arrive in time and for once honesty came first.

  “That you look very similar to a man.” She cleared her throat. “In your musculature. I’ve studied anatomy before getting my forensic pathology degree.”

  “Does that surprise you?”

  Dassenze chipped in. “Throughout the universe, all intelligent life, excluding our enemies the Bak-lal, are mammals and compatible enough to mate and produce viable offspring.”

  His words died away. The room was quiet. She was alone with them and they all knew what the other was thinking. Reproduction. Sex. Only her thoughts had gone precisely, unerringly, to the dirtiest possible arrangement with the two of them fucking her at once.

  Abort that thought. Shit, damn, and crap. Stop thinking dirty.

  The heat of a blush arrived. Then she wondered if those specifications included the Ascend, who were supposed to be gods. She wasn’t going to ask.

  “In case you’re wondering, we Ascend don’t quite fit into that system.”

  Could he mind read?

  “We can mate but not have offspring. There have been no new Ascend for several hundred years.

  That was sad. Her eyes fixed on Dassenze. “How old are you?” Could a god have an age?

  “I’m very old.” His smile was barely there. “Now we’ve settled that. Begin. Get from where you are to Brask without being hit. Begin when this pen hits the floor.” He held his closed fist at his knee’s height.

  The pen fell, tumbling.

  Her flight was a rapid parabola curving to wall and back in, with a somersault and a spin to confuse Brask’s aim. The force when she hit him surprised even her and he thunked backward with her on top of him and the sword point diving toward his neck with her full weight behind it.

  At the last microsecond, Brask batted it away. The sword flew sideways and stuck into the upholstery of a chair, yards away to the side.

  A second later, it was back in her hand. Gaping, still straddling Brask’s stomach, she stared at the blade. How?

  Then he hauled her down and kissed her.

  The impact went through her like a flight of slow-motion doves. Bliss. Everything shut down except an awareness of him beneath her and his lips on hers. His hand was at the back of her head and he threaded his fingers through her hair, gathering more in his fist to pull her even closer. To keep her still.

  But she wasn’t going anywhere.

  The kiss lasted forever, or it seemed so. While they kissed she lived only that moment, the press on her skin, the heat, the parting to allow his tongue inside her. When his lips left hers she was struck by the loss. She kept her eyes shut, reliving what had happened even though his breathing was still so close, inches away, warming her face.

  And as he breathed, she rose and fell. Her thighs were spread. She was vulnerable, despite her position above.

  She opened her eyes.

  He looked up at her, smiling, with his fingers still tight in her hair, pulling on her scalp.

  Any minute, he would fling her down and roll her over, pull down her tights and fuck her.

  Her resistance had vanished. He could rip a hole in her tights and do her sitting here. She drew her lower lip between her teeth, on the edge of leaning down and whispering it to his ear.

  Wait. Dassenze. Remember. Fuck. What was she thinking?

  Thinking wasn’t what was causing this.

  She could feel his arousal down there, pressing between her legs, see the harsh rise and fall of his chest. Yet he only smiled up at her. The Igrakk had control in spades.

  “Told you I’d get you in my bed.”

  Uh what? Arrogance in spades too.

  She cleared her throat. “You can let go now.”

  His smile broadened. “You liked that, little Earth bitch.”

  “Or I can break your arms and do it myself.”

  Where had he learned that word? She’d not heard a single alien say it.

  “The word bitch is one you need to understand before using it.”

  “Oh I know what it is. I love your Earth movies. A female dog that comes on heat regularly. Or a woman who needs to be educated on how to behave.”

  “Oh!” She drew back her arm.

  “Enough! Both of you.”

  “You can go.” Brask slid his fingers from her hair.

  Scowling, she climbed to her feet and pulled her clothes straight. All the while, Brask lay there grinning up at her. Perhaps she should kick him in the balls? Assuming he had those.

  She stalked back to Dassenze, ignoring Brask’s gaze boring into her back and the heat between her legs, praying her wetness didn’t somehow show through the fabric. Hell, his gaze was probably boring into her ass too.

  “How’d I do?” Her voice quavered and he searched her face, before looking past her at Brask.

  “Good. Until that last move. He hit your chest dead on.”

  “Yeah well, I nearly got his throat.”

  Dassenze tsked. “You’d have been dead. I cannot see how these powers of yours can help us win this war. Though...getting your weapon back was impressive.”

  The discussion was helping her to calm. Forget that Brask had kissed her. Bastard.

  “How did I do that?” She could hear Brask coming up behind her. She would not turn.

  “I’m not sure. It was too fast for me. You may have moved it through space like Ally does.” He nodded slowly. “That kiss though. I think Brask outmaneuvered you there.”

  “Huh.” Even gods could be smartasses.

  “Almost injuring Brask unintentionally was not good.”


  Her shrug was as insulting as she could make it. “I guess I was tired.”

  “Learn your limits.”

  Then he slid off the table, gathered up his light, and took the two practice swords.

  “Let’s get over to our new base.”

  They both moved past her, going to the end of the table to head for the door, seemingly unconcerned that she hadn’t yet followed.

  Fuck this. Even though she wanted to throttle Brask, she needed to find a quiet corner to do some friendly self-abuse after this. Her legs were trembling.

  “Yup. Don’t mind me. I’m coming,” she muttered. Bastards. Had this been their plan all along?

  Funny. She had been tired, but now she felt ready to do laps around the room. Every cell in her body, every muscle, brimmed with energy.

  Only one explanation came to her: the kiss.

  Oh no. No, no, no. She wasn’t telling them that. No. Brask’s head would explode.

  Danger lay that way. She had to think about this.

  Chapter 9

  They crossed the dark street between the buildings; it was barren of all except a few abandoned cars and tumbling litter, for a wind had arisen. A light rain pattered on Talia’s face. It was as they ascended the internal stairs that Dassenze jerked his head up and signaled them to halt. A second later, she heard the crack of guns firing somewhere below.

  “We go back,” Dassenze said. “The scouts above say a human army patrol has pulled up outside and is fighting off what seem to be Bak-lal. Come.”

  They rattled back down the stairs far faster than they’d come up and burst into the lobby below. Flashes of light outside showed where the shooting was happening and she tagged along behind until Dassenze pulled her back.

  “You’ve no armor. We’ve shown you can’t dodge bullets. These Bak-lal may not use weapons often but you could be accidentally shot by the military.

  “Brask has barely any armor!” She pointed at where he’d shoved open a shattered glass door to exit. A twinge of alarm hit as she watched him take an alien rifle from another warrior and run into the darkness.

  Lights sprang on, coming from above. The turret of an armored car showed above the row of concrete planters lining the front of this building.