MissionMenage

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MissionMenage Page 7

by Cynthia Sax


  “No,” he admitted, preferring death to that course of action. “Not unless I had no other choice.” Vegas paused in the midst of layering on his combat clothing. “And you won’t have any other choice, Raylee. Ship, you’re to leave the Lokan system in three hours. That’s an order.”

  “I won’t leave without my captain,” Ship replied.

  “What the fuck!” Vegas exploded. “Does no one listen to me?” He glanced at the expressionless Sexy. “Except for you.”

  “Programming…forces…” the android slurred.

  “Yes, of course. Your programming forces you to follow my orders. That’s the only reason you obey me.” Vegas pressed his lips together, swallowing his frustration. “Ship, as your captain will be onboard, there will be nothing preventing you from leaving.” He strapped his weapon belt around his waist, his arsenal consisting of daggers, throwing stars and other primitive technology, the uncivilized side of him exhilarated by the challenge. “Raylee, give me your vow that you’ll remain onboard Ship.”

  Raylee drifted away from him and he missed her warmth and scent and touch immediately. When had she become such a vital part of him?

  “Hmmm…” She traced her finger along the map of Lokan displayed on the viewscreen. “This is your route, right?” she asked him for the third time that day. “Starting with the hunting trail along the river?”

  Vegas nodded curtly, intent on ensuring her safety. “Raylee, your vow?”

  “And this is Sexy’s.” She followed the android’s path. “Parallel for one mile, and then he turns south while you turn north, right? Vegas goes north. Sexy goes south. Sexy south,” she repeated, her beautiful face compressed with concentration.

  “Raylee.” He grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. “Promise you won’t follow me. I won’t leave until you do and every second puts me in greater danger.”

  “We are all in danger,” Ship broke into the conversation. “A Balazoid fighter plane has entered the quadrant, single manned vessel, one life form onboard.”

  Shit. “Ship, lower the rope ladder.” Vegas placed his hand on the canister, ensuring it remained strapped tightly to him. “And don’t let it touch the ground. One brush against a tree leaf or a blade of grass, and all technology onboard, excluding your beloved Sexy, will cease to function.”

  “The useless companion android is not my beloved and I am aware of the challenges with docking on Lokan,” Ship snapped. “Opening emergency escape hatch.”

  A blast of warm, moisture-laden air hit him. Vegas peered out of the body-sized circular opening, but all he saw was mist, the climate of Lokan similar to Earth’s ancient rain forests. “Sexy, you go first.”

  “Wait!” Raylee stepped in front of the android. “Sexy, you…you…” As her bottom lip quivered, her fondness for his robotic twin openly displayed, the sharp claws of jealousy ripped into Vegas. He fisted his hands and clenched his teeth, forcing himself to give her this moment.

  “You take care of him.” She cupped Sexy’s cheeks, the android staring back at her, his passionate woman facing the emotionless robot. “Bring him back alive.”

  Fuck, I love her. Vegas swallowed hard. “Raylee—”

  “The Balazoid fighter plane has passed the system’s first sun.” Ship’s update decimated the tender moment.

  “Move it, Sexy.” Vegas wrapped his arms around Raylee, drawing her back against him as the android matter-of-factly climbed through the opening, as though he was going on a pleasure jaunt and not a dangerous mission.

  “Raylee, I…” He had a speech prepared for this moment. He was to declare his love, leaving her with no regrets, no guilt, if the mission went wrong and he didn’t return, but the words lodged in his constricted throat and, try as he might, they wouldn’t spill free.

  “I know.” Raylee clung fiercely to him, pressing her curves against his body armor, her arms around his neck.

  He tilted her chin upward and covered her trembling lips with his. They kissed. It was a long, lingering kiss, a kiss filling the empty vacuum of space, a kiss conveying passion and tenderness and love. He curled his fingers into her wild hair and he pushed his semi-hard cock into the hollow between her thighs.

  She exemplified all that he fought for and Raylee’s embrace solidified Vegas’ resolve. He drew back, already switching into combat mode. “Stay on the ship,” he ordered her one more time and he stepped down on the rope ladder. It swayed in the vortex caused by the hovering ship, the back of his legs thumping against the frame of the hatch. “No unnecessary risks.”

  “You aren’t to take any unnecessary risks either.” Raylee kneeled beside him, placing her smaller hands on his, her big brown eyes shining with fear. “I can’t lose you, Vegas.”

  “You won’t. Have faith in me, Raylee.” He squeezed her fingers. “This is what I do and I’m damn good at it.” He gave her one last cocky grin, her face lighting with a return smile, and he climbed down into the mist.

  Vegas gulped huge mouthfuls of the oxygen-rich air as he moved, surrounded by a blanket of white, not able to see farther than the reach of his arm. Birds called, warning others of his presence. Leaves rustled with wild creatures and other possible threats. With his heart beating wildly, he scurried down the ladder, his body a huge target suspended in the air, his hands occupied by the descent and his vision impaired by the mist.

  Finally, he spotted the dark green of the fertile land. Ship had done his job well, the ladder ending two feet above a grassy clearing, right between the concealing canopies of trees. Vegas leaped and his boots sank deep into the moisture-soaked ground.

  “Disembarkation complete.” Sexy’s slow voice made Vegas jump. The android pushed aside the curtain of tall grass.

  “Disembarkation complete,” Vegas agreed, looking up at the sky. He saw nothing, Ship hidden by the low-hanging clouds. “Stay on Ship, Raylee,” he murmured.

  “Captain cannot hear you,” Sexy droned.

  “I know that.” Vegas shook his head, pushing all thoughts of his stubborn mate out of his mind. “Let’s do this.” He ran toward the rush of running water, the thump of Sexy’s booted feet echoing behind him.

  * * * * *

  “Vegas, my bossy love.” Raylee peered out of the escape hatch until he disappeared from view, his dark-clad form swallowed up by the mist. “You can’t expect me to stay on Ship while you go off, save the world and get yourself killed doing so.” She straightened, her spine rigid with determination. “We’re a team and team members help each other out.”

  “The operative has the useless companion android to assist him, Captain.” Ship’s voice followed her as she rushed through the corridor. “Leaving me is not recommended as the Lokan population is hostile to Federation members and—”

  “That is all the more reason to follow him.” Raylee darted into the sleeping chamber she shared with Vegas, his musky, manly scent permeating the space. “He’s a Federation agent and will be concentrating on his mission, not the hostile natives.” She foraged through her cluttered closet. “Ah hah.” Her fingers closed around her favorite bow, the grip covered with slip-reducing chalk powder. “And you called this an ancient relic.”

  “Of evolved civilizations,” Ship corrected. “Lokan is not evolved and you may be successful at hitting stationary targets but warriors are not stationary. Your skill level is inadequate for combat survival.”

  “I’m skilled enough to cover his ass.” Raylee filled her lightest quiver, made of thin, yet tough deer hide, with steel-tipped arrows. “The future of the Federation is at stake, Ship.” She slung the quiver and her bow over her shoulder.

  “The Federation caused the death of my crew, Captain,” Ship reminded her.

  Raylee winced. “I caused…no…” She’d known the risks when she exited the Federation shipping lanes. Her captain would have known also. “Pirates caused their deaths, Ship.” She stood in front of the doors. They didn’t open. “Ship?”

  “I will not lose any more crew members, Capt
ain.”

  “Open the damn door.” She pressed the emergency release button. Nothing happened. “Ship, if you trap me here, Vegas and Sexy will die.”

  “I backed up the companion android before his departure. He has a full set of parts in the closet.”

  “And Vegas? Did you back up him also?” She frantically pounded on the door. “He’ll die, Ship.” She smacked the metal with her palms, her skin stinging with the impact. “The man I love will die.”

  “You’ll be safe.”

  “At what cost?” Raylee pried the panel off the wall with her fingernails, exposing a circuit of wires. “A safe life without love, without risk, isn’t worth living.” She pulled out a green wire. “I won’t go back to simply existing. I can’t.” She touched the red wire and then changed her mind, extracting the blue wire instead.

  “I don’t recommend your course of action, Captain. Your previous override attempt rendered us immobile for six days, seven hours, thirty-two minutes, and five seconds.”

  “Could you prevent the Balazoid from boarding us for six days?” Raylee pulled out the red wire also. Was it red or blue? “I doubt it, so we’ll all die and you’ll end up broken into parts for their mighty warships.”

  Air gusted through the vents. “I can’t protect you, Captain.” The door slid open and Raylee breathed a sigh of relief. “The energized core of Lokan prevents communication. I won’t know where you are or if you require assistance,” Ship reminded her as she stomped toward the escape hatch, the heels of her boots ringing on the wire-mesh corridor floor.

  “I can protect myself and I’ll protect Vegas too.” Raylee eyed the open hatch, her stomach swirling. “I can do this.”

  “If you can locate him,” Ship muttered. “I can’t assist you with directions, Captain.”

  Shit. She glanced at the viewscreen. “Find the river. Follow the path. Trek north.” Raylee took a deep breath. “I can do this. I won’t get lost.”

  * * * * *

  One hour later, Raylee was lost, or rather, she had been lost, heading the wrong direction down the path. She’d rectified that error, backtracking, and she hadn’t made another one or so she hoped. With her hands on her hips, she arched her back, tilting her head upward to peruse the giant dark-blue weeping willow. The map had shown a similar tree. No, I’m not lost. I know where I am…sort of.

  She studied the position of the sun. Vegas should be heading back the same way. I’ll wait for him. Raylee transferred her attention to the path, optimism warming her already heated and wet body.

  A twig snapped and she jumped. She looked around her, seeing no one, but not fully trusting her eyes. Since arriving on the tropical planet, she’d had the eerie feeling she’d been followed, and every sound in the noisy rain forest was amplified by her fear.

  Raylee ventured off the well-worn path and cautiously concealed her form under the hanging blue branches of the massive tree. Branches swayed and leaves fluttered, but there was no other movement. She removed an arrow from her quiver and waited.

  The rustling sound intensified, coming from her left, the broad leaves hampering her view. She drew back the string of her bow, the weight and feel of the weapon reassuring, and she aimed.

  A huge blue centipede, the same shade as the tree and the size of Vegas’ leg, crawled under the hanging branches. It raised its revolting head, its feelers twitching. Don’t come close. Don’t come close. Raylee dropped her arrow and edged backward, pressing her spine against the tree trunk as the creature slinked toward her. Don’t… Oh shit. She wrinkled her nose in disgust as the creature’s hundred tiny feet trailed over the toe of her right boot.

  It felt along the base of the tree. Oh God. It isn’t leaving. The centipede twined around the trunk she was leaning against and Raylee shuffled toward the path, remaining as still and as silent as she could manage. The giant insect climbed over the bark, the sound of its many feet against the wood echoed throughout the huge tree.

  She looked upward and saw nothing, the blue of the centipede blending into the color of the leaves. The noise of the tiny hairy feet marching came from above her, to her right, to her left and all around her. How many centipedes are hidden in the tree? Raylee shuddered. Something brushed against her shoulders. She turned around, but that something was already gone. Her hair was pulled. She swiped at it. A creepy sensation crawled across her skin.

  Enough. Raylee broke through the blue branches. She twisted around, dancing, fluffing her hair, looking for the God-awful centipedes.

  Distracted by the impending insect invasion, her capture happened so quickly, she didn’t get one solid kick in. Her body was pinned against hard muscle and her opening mouth was covered by firm, angry lips. A musky, familiar scent teased her nostrils. Vegas. Raylee relaxed into the kiss, dropping her bow to cling to him.

  He was alive and healthy and he had found her. Flesh pulverized flesh and the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. He was angry, his blue eyes as cold and hard as precious sapphires, and he poured that anger into her body, his fingers digging into the curves of her ass, his mouth forcing her head back.

  Raylee suffered soundlessly through her punishment, the pleasure-pain what she deserved for following him, for getting caught, for loving such a dangerous man. She skimmed her hand along his side, searching for the silver canister. Not finding it, she smiled against his lips. Mission completed.

  “You shouldn’t be smiling, Raylee. I’m furious with you.” Vegas pulled away to glare at her, his chest heaving, every inch of him glorious angry male.

  “I know.” She tried to look contrite, but her happiness at seeing him couldn’t be contained, spilling over onto her throbbing lips. He lived! He was safe!

  “You know. You know.” He glanced skyward at the clouds hanging over them. “Come on.” He grabbed her hand, tugging her forward with him. “I’ll beat your ass black and blue when we reach our ship.”

  Her smile widened. “You said our ship. Our ship, yours and mine, like we’re a team.” Raylee nearly skipped with excitement, her good mood expanding exponentially. “Does that mean I’m an agent also?” She trailed Vegas blindly, her boots making a juicy sucking sound, sinking into the moisture-laden ground with each step. “Or was I always an agent and I just didn’t know it? Is that why Sexy was given to me?”

  “Shhh…” Vegas hushed her, looking behind them. There were deep grooves between his serious blue eyes. His stride quickened until she jogged to keep pace with him.

  Raylee bit her bottom lip, her joy evaporating like the mist. She glanced over her shoulder. Although she didn’t see anyone, her heart pounded and her moistening palms slid in his grasp.

  A high-pitched hum sliced through the air and a throwing star embedded with a loud crack in the tree branch an inch above Vegas’ head. “Run!” He yanked her arm, catapulting her body forward.

  Shit. Raylee sprang into action, running faster than she had ever run before, the muscles in her legs stretching and burning with the effort of climbing the hill, her breathing shallow and fast and painful. Everything she had, she threw toward reaching the ship. Reach Ship. Gotta reach Ship. That was her sole goal, her single thought.

  Raylee ran full out for almost five minutes before realizing that Vegas wasn’t behind her. She skidded to a stop, her knees shaking, and she pivoted on her heels, forcing herself to remain upright, her head spinning. “You said no unnecessary risks, Vegas,” she huffed. “You should follow your own damn advice.”

  She sprinted back down the sloping path. The clang of metal against metal rang through the rain forest, the sound spurring her forward. Vegas, that macho dumbass she loved and couldn’t live without, was facing one of the scariest beings she had ever met. She reached for an arrow. He wouldn’t face the Balazoid assassin alone.

  Chapter Seven

  Vegas ran behind Raylee, shielding her from the attacks with his body until they reached the crest of the hill, placing her safely out of range of the Balazoid’s throwing stars. He then stopped, turn
ed and descended to face the assassin.

  He knew the odds of him surviving a confrontation with a Balazoid assassin were low, but Raylee wouldn’t reach the safety of the ship otherwise, the climb up the rope ladder making her a highly visible, helpless target. Without hesitation, Vegas traded his life for hers, as living would be meaningless without Raylee. She was his soul, his heart.

  He dodged the sharp metal, feeling the breeze on his cheek. Another star skimmed his arm, leaving a shallow razor-thin slice in his flesh. Vegas ducked and rolled, eluding the stars flying fast and furiously around him, the missiles singing through the air in a horizontal deluge of death.

  Then as abruptly as it started, the barrage of metal ceased. The attack wasn’t over. Vegas grimly braced himself. The assassin had run out of the deadly projectiles, but he would have other weapons at his disposal.

  The Balazoid approached, not bothering with concealment and stealth. His eyes, burning red with the fervor of the upcoming fight, were vivid in his ghostly pale face. He was dressed in protective leather, a pack slung over one inhumanly broad shoulder.

  “I’ve been looking for you, human.” The Balazoid’s voice echoed as if bouncing off canyon walls. He threw his pack to the ground and Sexy’s detached head rolled onto the flattened grass, his wires snapping blue sparks, his eyes open and unblinking. “I trust you’re a greater warrior than your machine.”

  “You’ll soon find that out.” Vegas extracted his sword from the sheath strapped to his back, metal rasping against the leather. Fuck. It’d been a long time since he last held a sword. Juggling the weapon between his hands, he re-familiarized himself with its weight and balance.

  “I enjoy hunting on these primitive planets.” Sunlight reflected off the Balazoid’s sword. “Phasers are so quick and clean and impersonal.” The assassin twirled the weapon in circles, switching hands seamlessly, his movements flowing and graceful. “A shot to a target’s head isn’t as satisfying as severing a jugular with a finely honed blade.”

 

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