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Agent Page 9

by Lexxie Couper


  She lunged forward—just as Crortek swung his de-atomiser and rammed it hard into Bhelais’ temple.

  “Jaienna. It’s a trap.” Jak roared, thrashing against the Boaronian holding him, his blue eyes furious. “Just shoot the fucker. Shoot the fucker now.”

  “Jia.” Bhel squealed, tears streaming down her face. “Don’t let him kill me. Please, don’t let him kill me.”

  “Don’t trust her, Jaienna.” Jak yelled, and Zeric’s blood ran cold. “She’s working for—” A thick fist smashed down on Jak’s head and the Boaronian holding him let out a loud laugh.

  “Drop it, Jaienna.” Crortek cut him short. “Or everyone you love dies, starting with your baby sister.”

  Zeric flicked his attention from Crortek, to Jaienna to Jak, slumped low in the Boaronian’s tight grip. His partner stared at him, face almost beaten to pulp, eyes screaming the message Jaienna refused to hear. Trap.

  Zeric swung back to the woman he loved—just in time to see the blaster fall from her hands and clatter to the floor at her feet.

  Jezu, no.

  “Don’t worry, Bhel,” she said, grief stripping her voice as she took a step forward. “I’m here, baby. Everything will be fine. I promise.”

  Crortek’s laughter rung out, bouncing off the walls of the small room, growing louder and more triumphant with each hollow note. “No it won’t, Jaienna.” He chortled, lowering the de-atomizer to cast her a smug look. “Everything will be far from fine.” He turned to Bhelais and held out his hand, claw-tipped fingers closing around hers as she placed her palm to his and stepped into his waiting embrace.

  “No.”

  Jaienna’s scream cut the air. Horrified. Traumatized.

  The Boaranian once holding Bhelais lunged forward, ramming a charged sub-neuron blaster to Zeric’s temple. But it didn’t matter. Not when Bhelais lifted her stunning face and looked up at Crortek with pure devotion; the subservient slave deeply in love with her master.

  They’d been betrayed. He, Jak, Jaienna…all betrayed by Jaienna’s sister.

  “You see, Raavelian?” Crortek smirked, hooking sharp claws into Bhel’s jaw to make her turn her face to Jaienna. “Every weakness you have…”

  “Bhel?” Jaienna’s voice cracked. Confusion etched her face as she stared at her sister.

  Bhel’s violet gaze fixed on Jaienna’s, at once lost and somehow malicious. “You’re not the only creature of sex in our family, Jia.”

  Crortek laughed again. “I love a family reunion, don’t you?” White stare turning to Zeric, he handed his de-atomizer to Bhelais, teeth flashing in the room’s dull light. “Almost as much as I love an obedient slave.” Bhelais took the weapon, her small hands wrapping around its grip with eager haste. “Now, slave,” he said, stepping from her side to stand beside the beaten Jak, dead white eyes still locked on Zeric’s. “Shoot the Yrathian.”

  “No.” Fury smashed through Zeric’s blood. He lunged, jerking against the Boaronian’s greasy grip. “You fucking bastard. No.”

  The Boaronian snarled, smashing the sub-neuron blaster’s butt into Zeric’s neck with a solid jab.

  “Zeric.” Jaienna’s scream filled his head as he fell to his knees, hot pain exploding in his body. He raised his head, staring across the room through a red haze of agony at Jak. The beast roared for freedom but, with more effort than ever before, he forced it still. He needed a clear head. Jaienna’s life, Jak’s life… Jezu, even Bhelais’ life could be lost if he succumbed. He needed to stay in control if he was to keep them alive and all the beast—the werewolf, wanted to do was kill.

  Jak gave him a long, steady look, a lop-sided smile playing over his mouth—It’s been fun, partner—and then turned to Bhelais. “It’ll hurt you more than me, Bhel,” he murmured. “And it’ll do so forever.”

  “Bhel.” Jaienna cried out. “Gods, baby, don’t.”

  Bhelais raised the de-atomizer and levelled its barrel on Jak’s chest. “I’m not a baby anymore, Jaienna.” Her hands trembled, her breath hitched and then, indigo stare blank, she fired.

  Jak’s body flung backward, an awkward arc finishing in a solid thump as he struck the floor. Limp. Motionless.

  “Jak.” Zeric screamed. He lunged to his feet, the beast almost breaking free of its mental prison.

  The Boaronian smashed its club-like fist into his neck and he fell to his knees again.

  “Zeric.” Jaienna cried. The exact moment, a shimmying fracture of light erupted in the middle of the small room.

  Jjor disrupter in hand, Raq Tornada suddenly stood there, icy anger on his face, the kaleidoscope lights of translocation still swirling around his restructured form as he stepped toward Jaienna. “You’re going to pay for—” he began.

  “Jjor.” Zeric roared at him, the word thick in his throat as the beast fought for release. “Get Jaienna. Get her out of here now.”

  Tornada froze.

  “Stop him.” Crortek screeched, lunging for Bhel and his de-atomiser.

  The Boaronians opened fire. Bolts of pure eo-energy cut the air, narrowly missing Tornada’s head to vaporise chunks of the wall behind him. With barely a blink, he turned, aimed his disrupter and disintegrated the closest Boaronian. In a single leap, he destroyed the space between him and Jaienna and whipped his arm around her waist. “Time to go, sweetheart,” Zeric heard him say.

  Jaienna’s eyes snapped wide. “Let me go, you—”

  In an abrupt rupture of fractured light and color, she and Tornada disappeared—as if they’d never been there.

  “Fuck. Crortek screamed, a bolt of black light ripping through the air as he blasted the space where Jaienna had just been.

  Zeric leapt to his feet, blood thick, senses heightened to a painful point, the change so close he could feel his bones begin to thrum. “Hey, Crortek.”

  Crortek swung around, white eyes ablaze.

  “It’s just me, now, Ornithion. Think you can handle that?”

  The crime lord’s mouth stretched into a wide smile and the spines on his back flared. “Terran, by the time I’m finished with you, there’ll be nothing left to handle. Just the drained corpse of an animal whose blood made me more money than all the nobility of the Inner Boundaries combined.” His dead eyes flicked with smug triumph as he raised his de-atomizer and aimed it at Zeric’s chest. “I’ll be so wealthy I’ll be able to buy the Unified Parliament and turn it into a Bliss den. Now, lay down on the ground like the animal you are.” He gave a low, snide snort of glee, spines flaring. “I want to give your belly a rub.”

  Zeric gave the Ornithion a slow, cold smile, nails hooking into claws in his fists. “You want me to be an animal, Crortek? Then an animal I’ll be. Are you ready?”

  And with that he released his hold on the beast in his blood and threw himself at the Ornithion. One second a man, the next, a wild, savage werewolf.

  An ancient creature with one single purpose. To kill.

  The End

  Preview another Lexxie Couper book

  Animal

  The Boundaries, Book 3

  Lexxie Couper

  Prologue

  Zeric Arctos stared at the naked woman standing on the other side of his cage, the thick Pellion steel bars separating them as surely as the distance between two galaxies. He watched her hands—graceful and slim-fingered—smooth over the flatness of her belly, watched them dip between her firm, toned thighs. A growl sounded in his throat and he shifted, the chink-chink of the metal chains attached to his wrists and ankles just another distant noise. That he was chained made no never-mind to him. That he was caged meant just as little.

  That she was here—Jaienna Ti—mattered most of all. That she stood before him now, teasing him, taunting him, a soft smile on her full lips, a fire in her brilliant green eyes, her nipples puckered, her breasts swollen with desire, awaiting his touch…

  “Jaienna.” Her name fell from his dry, parched lips in a raspy whisper. He shifted again, moving closer to the bars. They would send a charge of
electricity through his body stronger than Aglaian lightning if he came too close, but he didn’t care. Jaienna was here. Looking at him. Waiting for him. “Jai.”

  Wordlessly she arched one dark-red eyebrow, her smile growing wider. She slid her hands from between her legs and raised her fingers to her mouth, tongue flicking out to touch the very tips of her middle fingers.

  Zeric sucked in a sharp breath, his cock pumping full with hunger. Another growl rumbled in his throat at the sight of her tongue on her juices-slicked flesh. Deeper, lower. A growl less human and more animalistic. The growl of the beast. He took another step toward the bars, the fine hairs on his flesh standing on end as electricity charged the immediate air around him. Another step and he’d be on the floor in agony, but he didn’t care.

  She’d come for him.

  Touch yourself, Zeric.

  The command slipped from her lips, husky and somehow inaudible. Undeniable.

  He did as she asked, dropping his hands to his rigid cock, wrapping his fingers around its base in a punishing hold.

  His balls grew tight, rose higher. His ass clenched and he pumped hard on the thick organ jutting from his body. Pleasure flooded through him. The chains attached to his wrists smacked against his bunched thighs, stinging like an icy whip, sending a wave of pain through his legs that joined the pleasure coursing through his groin and he growled again, feeling his blood thicken.

  Yes, that’s it. Jaienna’s green eyes flashed and her smile stretched wider. Predatory. Let the creature come forth.

  An icy finger pressed at Zeric’s chest and he faltered, staring hard at the woman on the other side of the bars, his grip on his burning erection loosening a little.

  Creature? He frowned. Jaienna had called him many things, had called the beast lurking in his blood many things, but never creature.

  Green eyes flickered and agitation tightened the features somehow not quite Jaienna’s. “Touch yourself, Arctos!” The words sounded coarse. Irritated. “Fuck your own hand, you Terran piece of filth!”

  Icy alarm crashed over Zeric and he blinked, narrowing his gaze on the tall, thin woman standing before him, her brassy blonde hair hanging lank over pallid skin and sunken gray eyes. He straightened, his cock a throbbing rod of denied want, his chest a tight knot of fury and dismay. “Get your Illashionist away from me, Crortek,” he snarled, turning away from the woman who seconds earlier had appeared to be Jaienna to glare at the Ornithion standing on the other side of his cage.

  Hrung Crortek’s lipless mouth pulled into a smug smile and the spines on his back flared. “Only a matter of time, Terran,” the reptilian crime lord murmured, pearlescent white gaze boring into him. “I may not be able to beat you in a physical fight, but I know your weakness now.” He stepped forward, spines flaring wider, needle-sharp teeth glinting in the low light of the room. “And as soon as I discover how, I will use it.”

  Zeric bared his teeth, feeling the beast in his blood roar for release. “You’ll never be able to extract what you need from me, Crortek.” He flicked a contemptuous look at the hovering Illashionist. “No matter how many cowardly tricks you attempt.”

  Crortek tilted his head to the side, gaze contemplative. “Perhaps you are right, Terran. But perhaps you are not. I still have many ‘tricks up my sleeve’ as your race say. Make no mistake, one way or the other, I will discover what makes you what you are. And once I’ve done that, once I’ve extracted that most valuable essence from your system, once I’ve manufactured it into a serum, I will no longer need you alive.”

  “You haven’t a hope in Hades of extracting anything from me.”

  Crortek’s pale eyes flickered. “As I’ve said, I know your weakness. And if a mage-created Jaienna Ti doesn’t work, I can always use the real one.” His lipless grin returned. “I’m sure you will do anything to keep her un-harmed. Won’t you?”

  Chapter 1

  The “viewing” room of the Archeron Cluster Fuck Barge smelt of stale sex and blood. Raq Tornada curled his nose, his grip on the leash in his hand curling tighter.

  “Does my vessel offend you, Trader?”

  The oily question made him turn his head and he gazed indolently at the red-scaled Archeron. “Not at all, Master Slaver.”

  The woman at the end of his leash tilted her head slightly and he gave the length of studded leather a hard tug. “I did not tell you to move, Raavelian.”

  The Archeron’s slitted yellow gaze flicked from Tornada’s face to the stripped woman, taking in the small tattoo almost hidden by the swell of her left breast. A gold tinge of approval shimmered over his shiny scales. “You bring a slave from the Raavelian Alpha slave camps? And you wish to trade her?” The yellow stare left the woman’s naked form, returning to Tornada with a reluctance so obvious, Tornada almost laughed—if he could only control his jealousy, that was.

  He affected a disappointed frown. “Not by choice, Master Slaver. I have come into… how shall I put this… some financial difficulties and I must find the chits to keep my head on my shoulder before Hrung Crortek removes it.” He let his gaze fall to the bare, bowed back of the woman kneeling at his feet. “It pains me to part with Jaienna, but losing my head would pain me more.”

  The Archeron burst into loud guffaws. “Wise, if not wealthy.” He reached down and dug the talons of his right hand into the woman’s chin, forcing her head up, and a wave of pure rage and protective anger roared through Tornada. He ground his teeth. Now was not the time to let his heart control his actions. Otherwise, both he and Jaienna might end up dead.

  “I have heard of the amazing talents of Raavelian Alpha slaves, but have never had the fortune of experiencing them.” He licked his lips, darting a look at Tornada. “Are they as good as they are rumored to be?”

  Tornada smiled, wide and satisfied. “Better.”

  The Archeron crossed his arms across a plated chest both broad and muscled. “Prove it.”

  A bitter wave of triumph washed over Tornada; just the invitation he was wanting. “Slave,” he said, tugging on Jaienna’s leash. “Give the Master Slaver a blowjob.”

  The smooth, bowed back shifted as Jaienna made to move forward on her knees, sending a warm ribbon of something dangerous into Tornada’s groin.

  “Stop,” the Archeron suddenly said, stepping back, yellow eyes unreadable.

  Tornada frowned. “You do not wish to know of her skill? It is a mind-altering experience.”

  The Archeron grinned. “Oh, I wish to know of it, Trader.” His muscles flexed and his scales shimmered a faint orange. “But before her lips touch my cock, I wish to see what she can do with her mouth on you.”

  Eyes narrowing, Tornada studied the Archeron. The hair at his nape prickled and his palm itched for his pulse pistol. The Master Slaver’s request was not normal. No slave trader in their right mind hesitated to accept a slave of the Raavelian Alpha camps, especially one as unique and sensual as Jaienna Ti. He let a look of confusion fall over his face. “Master Slaver?”

  The Archeron’s scales shimmered orange again. “Consider it a gift, Trader. I can see how loath you are to lose possession of the slave—your heart is in your eyes—so let me give you one last moment of rapture before she becomes my property.”

  A wild beat hammered in Tornada’s neck. His gaze fell to Jaienna’s back. One moment of rapture…

  He’d lost his title because of Jaienna. He’d been publicly humiliated because of Jaienna. Flogged almost to death by the man who once had been his future father-in-law because of Jaienna. Had lost any right to his Jjor privilege and station because of Jaienna.

  Had lost his heart to Jaienna. Never to get it back.

  What he would give to feel her lips on his flesh once more. To feel her mouth pull on his cock, her teeth nip at its swollen tip, her tongue massage his rigid length until he screamed her name and erupted with his hot seed.

  One moment of rapture…

  He tightened his grip on her leash. His balls began to grow heavy, dark anticipation
flooding them with hungry desire.

  One moment…

  He closed his eyes and pulled in a steady breath. He was not wearing a psych-lock. If Jaienna made him come—and she would—he would be incapable of preventing her slipping into his psyche. His mind would be vulnerable to any suggestion she planted in there. He opened his eyes, staring hard at her motionless back, at the perfect formation of her spine curved into the motionless arc of subservient patience. Jaienna hated him. If he let her into his mind…

  “Trader?”

  The sharp aggression in the Archeron’s voice lifted Tornada’s head. The Master Slaver’s scales were now entirely black. Not a good sign. Archerons only turned black when they were about to attack. “Is there a problem, Jjor?” he asked, dagger-like fangs flashing. “Shall I summon my guards?”

  There’s to be no blood, Tornada. Jaienna’s orders before boarding the barge filled Tornada’s head, her voice low and calm and not to be argued with. We go in. I retrieve the info, plant the suggestion and we leave. Hrung Crortek is not to hear of this at all.

  “Jjor?”

  Tornada lifted his chin and leveled a cold look at the Archeron. “Summon your guards and you insult my trade and the trade of every Jjor in the Boundaries.” He yanked on Jaienna’s leash. “Slave,” he snarled, his blood running hot, his mouth dry. “Show the Archeron how talented you are.”

  He jerked on the leash again, the long strip of leather snapping tight. For a moment Jaienna didn’t move and a cold sense of unease twisted in Tornada’s gut. But then the finely toned muscles in her back flexed, her ass cheeks tightened and she lifted slightly from her obeisant bow, turning while still on her knees to face him, her head aligned with his crotch, her hands folded loosely in her lap.

  A lump formed in Tornada’s throat. Thick. Solid. He looked down at her, his eyes drinking in the fire-red of her wild hair, the smooth pale perfection of her shoulders. His cock twitched and stiffened, eager for the touch of her lips. His chest however, squeezed tight, knowing the heaven, the sheer rapture of her mouth on his shaft might very well end with his suicide.

 

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