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Wyst

Page 23

by J. A. Hornbuckle


  Pressing a hand to his searing wound, Wyst ordered his mouth into a rictus of a smile at the youngling he’d previously called friend even as he raised his weapon. “Why do you want to hurt me, young one?”

  The smaller male’s wide-opened eyes remained trained on those of the towering Protector before him. “I w-was ordered to, wa-warrior.” Wyst noted the bob of the knot in Cy’ron’s neck as the trainee tried to find further words. “I d-don’t want to hurt you, tr-truly.”

  Without a voluntary thought, Wyst brought his elbow down sharply on the top of Cy’ron’s head, causing the youngling to lose consciousness and slump to the side even as black spots edged Wyst’s vision. But the move cost him in both energy and effort, to the point he could hear the Pam-ah-lah in his head, even as his vision zeroed into some sort of tunneled view.

  No, Dani! He needs me. My Wyst is hurt and I’ve got to go to him.

  Glancing at the still form at his feet, Wyst locked his knees and straightened. Warm rivulets of something thick and vicious seeped through the fingers he pressed into his wound while his mind tried to follow the link between them. She needed assurance he was well and protecting her despite the small injury he sustained.

  However the sounds of echoed shots in the street captured his attention instead and he raised his head so fast, his view tilting so quick and hard, his whole body collapsed until he was balanced on nothing but hands and knees. Frack! He was better than this, a warrior for Gyed’s sake! Which meant he couldn’t and shouldn’t be brought so low with just one small wound.

  A scratch, really.

  But as he ordered his body to stand, nothing happened. Letting him know he’d been more than just compromised by the invasion of the blast, but grievously injured. And as he forced his head up to try and see what was happening in the street, Wyst’s one thought was on his Pam. The lone female who’d captured his attention and invaded his hearts.

  The one earthling who he’d pledged to protect…

  As the concrete of the sidewalk came up to smack his cheek, Wyst’s mind supplied the rest of it.

  …but was learning to love.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  My man was hurt. That much I knew, could sense along the strange thing that linked both our minds and hearts.

  The fact Dani prevented me from getting to him, by shoving her front into my back, squeezing me into the rough bricks at the backside of the shops as she did a one-armed pump of her shotgun, fucking scared me to death. Mainly because I could hear the zing of tresls echoing into the clear, cold air of the town.

  Shit, I could even smell the ozone-kinda thing as those alien laser beams met with the brick and mortar of American store fronts. Ones that shouldn’t have been included in the fight to take me or kill him.

  And if I was being all honest and shit, absolutely terrified me while my mind traveled along the connection I’d so hated, cussed about having, but which would tell me what the fucking hell was going on with him.

  Fuck!

  The truth of it was, I didn’t want to care about the gorgeous, yet clueless dickwad I’d been assigned to—because he wasn’t someone I would’ve ever chosen if given the chance. We’d tried our stuff out. And proven we weren’t destined to be a couple. Mainly because the Picari warrior was too full of himself. Believing he was the ‘be’ all and ‘end-all’ for all my lowly earthly, girly dreams.

  Not.

  I tried to take in a breath, to tell her what I thought needed to be done, but goddamn! She’d braced her legs, entrapping me against the side of a wall to the point where I couldn’t move…couldn’t fucking breathe. So I stretched a hand out and, for the first time in my life, deliberately captured another girl’s boob in my hand and squeezed it.

  Hard.

  As her body stilled she let up on her pressure while I managed a whisper to escape from my crazed, panicked-frozen lips. “My Wyst is in trouble. And you absolutely can’t prevent me from getting to him.”

  The click of my swallow was a betrayal following my firm words, but I couldn’t find fault in it since it was the most honest admission of my feelings. “Let me go. He needs me.”

  Straightening her legs in order to maximize the pressure between our bodies, Dani took in and then expelled her breath. “I can’t. Your mate wants you safe. My father says the same. Deal with it.”

  Mate?

  Really?

  Oh fuck to the no! Wyst wasn’t my mate, my partner or any other kind of…whatever variety of a goddamned couple his goddess sought to name us. Yet all I could squeak out in the whole of everything, up to and including Dani’s grip was, “He’s not my mate.”

  “Don’t give a shit,” she shot back, increasing her weight by straightening her legs to the point I started to cough at the way my chest was squeezed between her body and the firm, unrelenting bricks I faced. “Pops said to keep you safe. And that’s what I’m gonna do.”

  “Can’t breathe,” I managed to bleat, trying to push back, but the woman was freakishly strong.

  She eased up a bit, at least enough for me to drag in a lung full of air, but not enough for me to get away. “Sorry,” she muttered, not sounded apologetic at all.

  I opened my mind realizing I hadn’t heard or felt Wyst for more than a couple of minutes. Babe? Are you all right? But I got nothing in reply, not even a whisper of the angry frustration I’d previously been hit with earlier.

  “Dad says my mom is with your…with the warrior. Which is good because my mom’s a healer.” Dani eased off me even further and when I turned toward her, I saw she was standing still, head tilted and eyes unfocused. “He and Reg have found the last of the guys that were after you and subdued them.”

  She looked down at me. “Dad wants to know if you speak Picari. Because his captives don’t seem to understand English.”

  I shook my head in answer while still trying to connect with my warrior. “Ask him how Wyst is doing. I can’t hear him and it’s starting to freak me out!”

  “He passed out. Says once he figures out what to do with the bad guys, we’ll move him to our place so mom can fix him up.”

  Passed out?

  Fix him up?

  That was all I needed to hear for my feet to start moving as fast as possible to get to him. And although Dani called my name a couple of times, she didn’t try to stop me as I raced across the parking lot and spied one of the passageways that would take me into the street. But once through, I came to a complete stop at the same moment all the alarms and streetlamps shut off. Skidding to standstill next to me, Dani seemed as shocked by the tableau as I was. Not only was the street littered with shattered glass and pieces of brick, wood and stucco but goods, charred and blackened were strewn around as well. I saw two men lying unmoving in the middle of the street. Both were wearing the uniforms of the starship and I couldn’t help but wonder if they were part of the same group who’d come after me and Leah a few days ago.

  “Dad said the only way to turn off the alarms was to cut the electricity. He’s asking me to use the flashlight app on my phone and find my mother.” She pulled her cell from the back pocket of her jeans and lit up the area directly in front of us. Between the moonlight and the beam of her phone, we had enough illumination to avoid tripping over the debris of the street.

  “Do you see your mom?” After all the noise of the alarms and the laser shots, the ensuing silence seemed deeper and I kept my voice to little more than a whisper. Holding her phone higher she strafed it around until I saw Blythe huddled over a prone and still body.

  Before I knew it I was on my knees next to her. Like Dani, she was using her cellphone as a light only she’d propped it up against the building and leaving her hands free. Her blood-stained hands that were pressed one on top of the other against Wyst’s chest.

  My gaze immediately went to his face, hoping to see some sign of consciousness but his eyes were shut and his mouth slack. “How is he?”

  When Blythe didn’t immediately answer, I turned to look at her.
“I won’t lie to you, Pam. Your mate has lost a lot of blood.”

  She didn’t exaggerate because we were both kneeling in a large pool of it. “But he’s going to be all right, isn’t he? I mean, he’s as healthy as a horse so he’s going to be just fine, right?”

  When she didn’t say anything, I stood up and stepped over his body before going back into a crouch on his other side, closer to his head. Smoothing a couple of hanks of hair off his face, I leaned down close to his ear. “Wake up, Wyst. You’ve just gotta wake up, babe, so you can get better. You’ve been hurt but I need to open your eyes and start healing yourself, all right?”

  Pulling back, I saw he hadn’t moved and that, more than anything, scared me shitless. I didn’t like him nonresponsive. Even in sleep, he moved around a lot—rearranging the covers, frowning or smiling at whatever dream was running through his head or just to shift his hand into a better position on my boob. Never had I seen him so still. It was like he was…no, I didn’t want to even think the word, so instead I placed my fingers underneath his nose, feeling for his breath as I tried to see if his chest moved. That small assessment, which didn’t mean shit in the whole of it, let me know he was alive at least. But I had no medical training and didn’t know how to help him.

  And I wanted to, so very much.

  Spying his tresl on the ground by his head, I picked it up and turned it on only to see everything was written in Picari. Which meant I didn’t know how to use it even though I remember Rykhan accessing a medical program on his when Leah had been hurt. I didn’t think Arbrynt loaded something similar when he’d tweaked my cellphone to behave like theirs and since it was still with C’ynyt, I didn’t have it anyway.

  Wiping the wetness from my cheeks, I glanced over at Blythe who was talking softly with Dani as she rinsed off her hands with a bottle of water. Dani was now pushing against Wyst’s chest, putting pressure on his wound to try and stop the blood flow. I was so freaked I didn’t think I could speak but was determined to try. He needed me, now more than ever. “I know he needs a hospital but we can’t take him there. So what’s the plan?”

  “C’ynyt sent Reg to get our van while he guards the strangers. We will transport your mate to our house and get him stabilized.”

  “What’s he going to do with the captives?” While I held no affection for the men from the Searcher, I didn’t think they deserved to be killed. On the other hand, we couldn’t just let them go either. I mean, the warriors had gone through rigorous training and instruction on how to blend in to human society yet they still made mistakes. Not a lot, but enough. However, the crew members hadn’t received any sort of preparation since the plan had been for them to stay onboard, performing whatever duties they’d been assigned. And I didn’t think anyone ever, even in their wildest imagination anticipated them actually stepping foot on Earth.

  “He’s trying to figure that part out. Says he’ll let us know when he comes up with something.” Dani didn’t look at me when she answered, instead keeping her eyes on her hands. “Have you got any ideas?”

  I started to shake my head ‘no’, but then it occurred to me, I knew someone who would. Someone who was sure to know exactly how to handle the situation! “Ask your dad to go to my cell’s contacts list and call Bronsyn. He’s Wyst’s commander, someone with a lot of experience in a lot of things. He’ll know what to do.”

  *.*.*.*.*

  “No commander, this is not Pam.” C’ynyt tried to keep the smile out of his voice but it was hard, especially when the Picarian leader had answered the call with sleepy but obvious affection. “My name is C’ynyt Treslyng Droos and I am the owner of the bar where she works.”

  “You are the Basule, then?”

  Christ, but he hated that label especially because the way Picari’s used it transformed it into a racial epitaph. “I was born on Basulari, yes. But I’ve been on Earth a lotta years.”

  “Am I correct in assuming something has happened to our Pamela?” C’ynyt detected sounds in the background, much like the man was moving around quickly.

  “No, she’s good.” C’ynyt always hated to be the bearer of bad tidings so he decided to talk about the prisoners first. “But she did ask me to contact you. We’ve gotta sitch on our hands.” He looked to the four men seated before him with their wrists and ankles secured with duct tape. Since he didn’t understand them and they didn’t speak English, he hadn’t taped their mouths.

  “I am sorry, I do not understand the word ‘sitch’.” Just as the warrior named Wyst, the Bronsyn guy spoke English very formally, something C’ynyt found funny.

  “Situation. We’ve gotta situation on our hands. And I need your input to figure out how to handle it.” C’ynyt took a deep breath, determined to get the retelling done as quickly as possible. “Some guys in uniforms showed up in town flashing pics of Pam and Wyst around, asking if anyone has seen them. Then tonight, your warrior and my waitress were attacked by those same assholes.”

  “Attacked?”

  “Yeah, with tresls set to kill. It took a while but your guy and I handled it. Now though, I’ve got four of ‘em as prisoners along with two dead.” C’ynyt paused to let that bit sink in before he actually got to the reason for the call. “I need some help in figuring out what to do with them.”

  “What did Wyst suggest?”

  “Ah yeah, about that,” C’ynyt replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re warrior was hurt in the firefight. Lost a lot of blood and at the moment, he’s kinda down for the count.”

  There were the sound of a door opening and other voices in the background. “What does that mean ‘down for the count’?”

  “He’s passed out. Unconscious. So he’s not in any state to give an opinion.”

  “I’m going to put you on speaker so my warriors can hear and offer their assistance.” Whoa, so it was true. There were others on the quest Wyst described, not just him and his commander. And while C’ynyt was curious as hell about who and who many, he didn’t think it was the right time to ask those kind of questions.

  Switching into Picari, Bronsyn brought the others up to speed. Or that’s what it sounded like from the little bit C’ynyt could understand.

  “I will immediately go to this Wayward,” a deep voice announced in English. “Please tell our Pam, Tyshar will be there within twenty-four Earth hours.”

  “I’ll tell her. But what am I supposed to do with my captives?”

  “Gyard Trag here. Why not let us talk to them directly? That way we can determine who authorized their mission and how they managed to find Wyst and our Pam. Plus, we’ll need to discover how they made it to the surface without detection.” As an opening gambit, C’ynyt thought Gyard’s idea held merit. And it seemed all the warriors held a soft spot for the little blonde female.

  “Yes, but we should ensure they are fully disarmed first,” another voice advised, sounding much younger than the others.

  “Laxon has a point,” Bronsyn agreed. “Have you taken all their weapons, C’ynyt?”

  “I’ve got their tresls if that’s what you mean. You think they’ve got other stuff like knives and shit?”

  “I suggest checking their pockets and boots just to make sure,” the one called Laxon replied. “You can search while Bronsyn speaks to them. Be sure to do it in a rough way, forcefully, to show them who is in charge.”

  “Like a badass, you mean.” That was a role C’ynyt was more than willing to play. Nothing like a good dose of fear to keep a prisoner in line. “Sure, not a problem.”

  “This is Arbrynt Llow. Bronsyn says that our brother was seriously injured. I think his condition takes precedent over his assailants.”

  “My mate’s a healer and she’s working on him,” C’ynyt offered.

  Bronsyn spoke after a few beats of silence. “Arbrynt, call Wyst’s tresl. If some picks up, then you can walk them through the medical assessment program.”

  Arbrynt’s next words came out on a growl. “And if no one answers? What do we do th
en?”

  When no one replied, C’ynyt opened up. “My Blythe is the one who healed me after our shuttle crashed. She’s familiar with the differences between our bodies and a human’s.”

  “She knows of our double hearts?”

  “Yeah. I had burns over 80% of my body. Thought I was gonna die but she nursed me back to health, learning by the seat of her pants over the year and a half it took me to heal.” C’ynyt didn’t like thinking about that time, much less talking about it. “She knows what she’s doing.”

  “I will make the call,” the male name Arbrynt announced after another bit of silence.

  It was Bronsyn who decided to get back to the matter at hand. “Okay. I have been thinking of what to say to the crewmen in order to gain the information we need. I will advise them that a Basule has taken them prisoner and they know how pirates deal with their enemies.”

  C’ynyt didn’t like it, but knew by forewarning him, Bronsyn was offering him a measure of respect. “So not only do I get to play a badass, I get to revert back to my roots, huh?”

  Bronsyn continued as if C’ynyt hadn’t spoken. “I will tell them you are willing to release them so they can return to their ship, but they will need to disclose the location of their shuttle or the TIPS they used to arrive planet-side.”

  Then Bronsyn came to the bit C’ynyt especially didn’t like. “I will assure them they must promise never to return or you will kill them on sight.”

  “Listen,” he started on a swallow. “They’ve already got two dead. One was because of me, but I didn’t do it on purpose. I was just trying to shoot the device out of his hand and he moved.”

  “I am not saying you have to kill them if you see them again. But I’m giving them the possibility of it happening. Because their crew mates already lost their lives, it gives the threat of what could happen validity. Do you understand?”

 

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