by Carven, Anna
The Empire had trained him well, and as a former Intelligence Officer and then Commander…
Well, one didn’t get to reach such positions without going through a lot of pain.
The trade-off was that he was now able to speak his mate’s native tongue.
What was a little pain when this was the end result?
That was one advantage he had over the First Division, at least. Their freakish bodies wouldn’t tolerate any more modifications. The virulent black nanites in their bloodstreams would neutralize any such kind of intervention.
Ikriss inclined his head, secretly amused. “I didn’t pick you for the crude type.”
“Crude? How did you…?” An indignant puff of air escaped between Sienna’s lips, and he found it utterly charming. She shook her head. “Never mind. We chefs take a course in offensive profanity as part of our training.”
Ikriss frowned. Cursed humans and their strange customs. “What in the Nine Hells for?”
Now it was Sienna’s turn to smile. Oh? So she was toying with him now? “I’m joking. Chef training can be brutal. Most restaurant kitchens are hot, frantic, crazy places, even with all the cuisine-tech they use nowadays. We learn to put up with a lot of abuse, especially of the verbal kind.”
“Ah.” That explains a few things. Suddenly, Ikriss understood how Sienna had been able to withstand such torture and degradation at the hands of the Ephrenians… then snap back into some semblance of normality so very quickly.
She was so determined to regain her place in the Universe, and he could only admire such resilience, even if he didn’t quite understand it.
It was as the General had explained to him.
Strong, but fragile.
That’s what humans were.
“What do you want, Kordolian?” she demanded. “Of all the people you could have sent, why are you here? Give me a straight answer for once.”
“I want to ensure your safety. And I want to know why you were targeted in the first place.” I want you. A wisp of impatience slipped through a microscopic crack in his self-control. “We do not leave things unfinished, and your Universe will never be the same again. Like it or not, you are our responsibility now.”
She bristled. “Says who?”
“Me.”
“And who the hell are you exactly, Ikriss? I mean, who the fuck just drops onto a foreign planet and sets up base, completely unnoticed? We have authorities too. Enforcers. A world government. A system that works.”
Yes, but nothing you humans possess can stand against what I fear is coming.
Or against us.
“As I said, I’m a mercenary. The rest of my history is long and tedious. It is all listed on the parchment I gave you.”
“Paper.”
“Yes. That.” Ikriss didn’t see any need to conceal who he was. Either she accepted him as he was, or…
Well, there was no other option, was there?
Sienna’s lips curved downwards into an adorable little frown. “And so is this little undertaking of yours is part of the contract, too? Because as far as I can tell, I don’t think I can afford someone like you.”
Ikriss shrugged. “You don’t have to afford me. For you, my protection is guaranteed.”
“But why?”
Sensing another opening—now she was curious—Ikriss bared his fangs. “Why don’t you take the time to find out?”
He had to take this slowly. It was as the General had told him. “Human females are complicated creatures. They do not see a mating as a simple phenomenon. For them, it goes far beyond simple biological attraction. With time, you will come to understand their way of thinking, too… well, not completely understand, because no sane Kordolian male could ever understand them, but you will learn to anticipate their needs.”
“I don’t like riddles,” she said flatly, but the pink flush in her cheeks betrayed her. Ikriss wanted nothing more than to reach out and brush the delicate skeins of wispy golden hair away from her face; to lean in and taste her delicate pink lips… but he held back, because he was not some horny, callow youth who didn’t know the meaning of self-discipline, nor was he a crass, self-indulgent, Empire-loving bastard who couldn’t keep his cock in his pants.
He was an Aikun hunter, and he understood the value of patience.
“I am not toying with you, Sienna. I see threats around you. Criminals. Predators. Bad debts.”
She crossed her arms, defiant again. “You heard about that, huh? Please don’t tell me you’re going to offer to pay out my debts too.”
“No,” he said softly. “I would never attempt to compromise your honor like that.” He would not pay any of those pathetic humans a single credit. He would simply make her creditors understand that she was his now.
If they chose to make trouble for her after that, they would be risking death by his hand.
It was as simple as that.
Perhaps there was something strange in his expression, because she stared back at him with an intensity he’d never seen before. Her pupils dilated a fraction. Her lips parted ever so slightly, offering him a glimpse of soft pink temptation.
Sienna straightened her cap and tucked the stray wisps of hair behind her ears.
The shadows melted from her eyes.
She seemed to come to some sort of conclusion.
Her expression grew steely and determined, and he drank in her fire as if it were an intoxicating drug.
Now his cock was straining against his pants. His fangs were bared, his nostrils flaring, his entire body tensing in anticipation and need.
Only the effect of the relaxant in his system, Zylerin, stopped him from surrendering to the madness right then and there.
“Well, maybe I appreciate that, especially coming from someone like you.” As if sensing his arousal, Sienna leaned forward, her lips curving into a slightly devious smile. “But right now, I have work to do. There’s only so long folks can drink coffee before they start wanting their eggs, and the dough has risen, and it needs to be baked. If you plan on guarding me, or whatever it is you want to do, then you need to look the part, at least. Put those freaky glasses back on, and keep your hair over your ears, and don’t you dare scare my staff.” She turned and stalked toward the door. “Let’s go.”
A faint growl erupted from Ikriss’s throat as he turned and followed her, unable to keep his gaze from the alluring curve of her ass.
Well, it was a start.
She’d accepted him into her domain, and now he needed to gain her trust.
Soon.
She would be his.
And he would get to the bottom of why she’d been taken from Earth in the first place.
He would chase away all her demons; her tormentors.
Her previous suitors.
Any male who looked at her with even the slightest glimmer of intent…
He would destroy them all.
As Ikriss made to retrieve his holographic disguise glasses from his trouser pocket, it occurred to him that his claws were out.
Slowly, excruciatingly, gritting his teeth, he retracted his claws and found the strange metal frames, which he placed back across the bridge of his nose.
And just like that, he appeared almost human again. He followed Sienna into her small, curious kitchen-space, where strange, powerful aromas—some pleasing and some sickening—assaulted him from all sides.
And then he felt it.
Something strange.
A whisper of killing intent.
Then he saw it.
A slight aberration in the fabric of time-and-space; a distortion of the lines, a blurring of the air, a ghost walking through the light.
His battle-senses roared into high gear.
Death seeped through the cracks.
“Sienna,” he rasped. His sixth-sense took over, his hunter’s instincts propelling him forward before he even realized.
She spun around, her grey-green eyes widening, on the cusp of a scream…
; And then one of Ikriss’s arms was around her, throwing her to the floor as he cushioned her fall with his other arm, at the same time dodging the attack that came from behind.
A blade whizzed past his head, missing so narrowly it sheared off a piece of his pale hair. He rolled to the side with Sienna roughly cradled in his arms, and to her credit, she was able to restrain the scream, her breaths coming in short, sharp gasps as he pushed her beneath the cover of a long metal work table.
Ikriss left her there, rolling out from beneath the table and pulling a plasma gun from where it was holstered beneath his shirt. He fired into thin air, acting on instinct alone.
He was rewarded with a grunt of pain. The blurring air solidified into an indistinct figure.
Ikriss didn’t waste any time trying to see who—or what— it was. He doubled up on his attack with a torrent of plasma fire. Moving almost as fast as light, the mysterious figure dodged, and a blast of plasma promptly exploded against the coarse brown wall on the opposite side of the room, turning the crude stone bricks molten red.
Ikriss plucked a dagger from a sheath inside his belt and hurled it in the opposite direction as a small throwing knife came at his chest. He spun around, evading the blade as he threw another knife, then another, then he emptied the rest of his plasma charge into the blurring air, which had now morphed into a figure.
Only one type of monster could disappear into thin air and move fast enough to dodge several plasma blasts at once.
A Silent One.
A really fucking dangerous Silent One. There were very, very few who were skilled enough to use the invisibility technique.
Shit.
One wrong move and he would be dead.
They would take her from him.
No.
They would not.
He activated his comm. “Backup,” he hissed. “Now!”
Ikriss reached for a blade. His fingers found nothing but empty sheaths. His plasma gun was out of charge. Without thinking, he grabbed the closest heavy implement—a heavy round metal pan-thing with a handle.
Now the Silent One had shed his cloak of invisibility. His body was covered in a sleek skinsuit the color of moonlight, his face concealed behind a featureless white mask.
The death-mask.
The Silent One drew a long blade and rushed toward Ikriss.
He’s fast.
But so am I.
Ikriss raised the metal pan as the Silent One struck. The tip of the blade sank into the thick metal and came out the other side. Ikriss twisted hard, deflecting the assassin’s blade.
His vicious kick, narrowly missed the assassin’s shin.
The assassin withdrew, feinting to the left, but Ikriss wasn’t fooled. He swung the pan to the right, connecting with the Silent One’s arm as the assassin swiftly reversed direction, trying to catch him off-guard.
Step, slash, dodge, block, strike. They fell into a brutal rhythm; Ikriss with his heavy pan, the Silent One with his cursed blade. Each move was a precise strike and a near-miss, taking them closer and closer to the precipice just before death.
The assassin’s blade had teeth; it was Callidum, after all, and each time it connected with the pan, it sliced through the thick metal, leaving precise cuts.
Ikriss was at a distinct disadvantage. The pan slowed the blade’s momentum only a fraction; barely enough to allow him to dodge.
At this rate, there soon would be no pan left, but Ikriss was too absorbed in this violent dance to worry about any of that.
He’d never fought a Silent One like this before.
This opponent was probably one of the most dangerous he’d ever engaged in battle.
But all those sessions he’d spent in brutal training against the First Division warriors had prepared him well. The fact that Sienna was in the room with them, just a hand’s breath from danger, gave him immense strength and speed.
He would protect her, even if he had to die in the process.
Clang. His pan came up hard against the Silent One’s arm, and the assassin’s would-be blow carried so much force that the effect was jarring. He raised his weapon for another strike, only to feel intense pain lancing through the left side of his chest.
Forcing himself to ignore the pain, Ikriss growled as he threw the shredded metal pan at the cursed assassin’s face in desperation, following up with a savage kick to the ribs.
For the first time, the assassin staggered back. Ikriss picked up a container of some unknown powder and threw it at the Silent One’s face. A cloud of pungent yellow erupted in front of his very eyes, causing them both to cough.
“Ikriss!” someone hissed.
Sienna!
Something slid across the floor. A tiny but very sharp looking knife.
Hers?
It was the little blade he’d found her clutching before.
Thank you, my cherished one.
Ikriss dropped to a crouch and picked up the blade. In a single fluid motion, he rose up through the mess and chaos and plunged the tiny knife somewhere—he didn’t quite know where—into the Silent One’s body.
He was rewarded with a grunt of pain and a gush of warm blood.
Hands went around his neck.
He plunged the knife deeper, twisting harder and harder.
But the Silent One was a tough bastard, and he just kept tightening his grip around Ikriss’s neck, cutting off his air.
His vision started to dim. Once again, he became aware of the terrible pain in his side.
“Get him, Ikriss.” And then the voice of a goddess floated toward him, piercing through the haze of his agony and rage. “Kill him.”
Giving him unnatural strength, yet again.
I must protect her.
The urge to protect his mate was so strong it almost drove him insane.
Ikriss did the only thing he could. He brought his head forward with great force, closing his eyes as his forehead connected with the hard surface of the Silent One’s white death-mask, and there was a satisfying crack as the cursed thing shattered into pieces.
He’d simply headbutted the fucker.
Got you, bastard.
At last, the assassin’s grip started to weaken…
The Silent One fell.
And so did Ikriss, dropping to his knees as the gush of blood from his chest turned into a torrent, and he was dimly aware of Sienna shouting at him in the background, but everything was a blur; a haze, a dream… fading into blissful darkness.
Chapter Eleven
“Ikriss!” Sienna screamed as she saw the powerful Kordolian fall to his knees, black blood spilling from the left side of his chest. His enemy had fallen too, and Sienna didn’t know if the creepy masked alien—whatever that thing was—was even alive, and she couldn’t care less.
Ikriss was hurt.
He could even be dying.
She was dimly aware that somewhere in the background, her staff were frantic and terrified, approaching her through the blood-and-turmeric-mess; through the destruction and chaos, but she couldn’t focus on them right now.
Ikriss was hurt.
He’d saved her life, and he was hurt.
She crawled out from under the workbench and half-ran, half-stumbled to his side, dropping to her knees and pressing her hands into his bleeding torso. She tried to apply pressure, leaning into the wound with her palms, but it was no good.
She needed a wad of something; a pad to soak up all that blood.
Now Emmett was there in front of them, his face ashen grey, his hands trembling. “S-Sienna… wh-what the hell is—”
“No time,” she rasped. “There’s no way I’m letting him die. No fucking way.” She pressed harder against Ikriss’s wound. Pure black blood seeped between her fingers.
“I’m going to take my hands off now. You take over. Don’t miss a beat. Lean on his side with both hands, the way you were taught when you learned Universal First Aid. You’re stronger and heavier. You can apply more pressure. Do it, Emmett.” She
was shouting now, but she didn’t care.
Her friend didn’t ask a single question. He just nodded. Bless you, Emmett.
“On the count of three,” she snapped.
“One, two, three…”
Like a well-oiled machine, they swapped.
Emmett’s face hardened as he pushed against Ikriss’s bleeding wound. Like every Federation Citizen, he’d undergone mandatory Universal First Aid training. He knew about applying basic pressure to stop a bleed.
Sienna wasted no time. She reached for the ties of her apron, only to realize that it wasn’t there; it had come loose when Ikriss had pulled her to shelter beneath a workbench. Her insides clenched as she remembered the feeling of his honed body pressing closely against hers, warding off her terror.
And now he was disastrously wounded.
He’d done it for her.
Sienna’s fingers fumbled around buttons as she tore off her white shirt and fashioned it into a thick wad. “I’ll put this under your hands. One, two…”
“Three,” they said in unison.
Sienna jammed the shirt beneath Emmett’s large palms and watched as the pristine white fabric quickly became stained with black Kordolian blood.
“Not human,” Emmett gasped.
“No,” Sienna whispered, shaking her head in shock and horror.
“What the fuck, Sienna?” Emmett’s hands were trembling. His face was ashen. She’d never seen him so shaken before.
Cleo appeared above them, frantically pointing at her link-band, her brown eyes holding barely concealed horror. “I’ve called Enforcement. They’ll be here in two minutes.” She stared down at Ikriss and his unnamed attacker. “Ambulance arriving in one.”
Enforcement?
Ambulance?
But Sienna had no chance to decide whether that was a good idea or not, because at that moment, a dozen black-armored, black-helmed, armed-to-the-teeth Kordolian warriors burst in from all directions, surrounding them with the promise of death and destruction.