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Payback Is A Bitch (The Kurtherian Endgame Book 1)

Page 18

by Michael Anderle


  P’rok leaned forward. “I got a secret I could sell.” He winked, jerking his head toward his partner. “He hasn’t had sex in three years, but brags he is getting some every weekend!”

  Addix and P’rok laughed, but G’het didn’t find it so funny. “Shut your mouth!” he snapped. “My sex life is wanted in four systems!”

  This time all three of them busted out laughing. Two bar customers at the table next to them looked their way, then shook their heads and resumed their own conversations.

  “So,” G’het leaned forward, his eyes darting back and forth, “what’s it like for an Ixtali to…you know…have sex?”

  Addix chuckled. Different races, different species, different systems, but it always came back to reproduction methods.

  “Painful,” she answered. “When I have to eat my mate’s head while he’s still alive and listen to his screaming, it’s so painful,” she deadpanned. G’het looked at her, then at P’rok and back to her before he noticed a glint in her eye.

  “Yer lying!” He pointed at her, and all three started laughing again.

  It took her two more hours of mind-numbing conversation to get the information that they had been involved in the movement of the missiles from 27 to 19. It seemed the higher-ups in the company wanted heads to roll, since the computer records hadn’t been changed to reflect the new location of the materials.

  P’rok had glanced at G’het. “I suggest you offer yer little head as a sacrifice for all of us,” he slurred. “It’s not like you need it anyway!”

  Okay, she thought, that was rather funny.

  P’rok went to the bathroom.

  Addix took part in another fifteen minutes of inane conversation after she had what she had come for.

  She was halfway back to the spaceport when she caught sight of the two who were following her. She would have to work harder on identifying tails.

  Perhaps one of these two had attacked her ship. If so, perhaps she would eat his brains.

  Who knew? They might be a delicacy.

  She pulled out her tablet and typed a quick message that routed to The Lady Princess and then through the Etheric to High Tortuga. She wanted to make sure Bethany Anne knew that the company was fishy before she took out those who were tailing her.

  Like Admiral Thomas, she might not live too much longer, and she shouldn’t die with that knowledge in her head.

  But truth to tell, she doubted her imminent demise. She hadn’t been practicing catching tails, but she had been practicing combat with some of the top fighters in the base.

  She doubted those behind her were going to come out of this alive.

  Addix walked five more blocks before she found the type of alley she wanted—dark, tall buildings around it, and a fetid stench emanating from it—and ran a quarter of a block before ducking inside. She glanced over her shoulder as the three Shrillexians broke into a run to catch up with her.

  Dammit! She had missed one.

  —

  E’det, lead of this effort, frowned. He was jogging up to the opening of the alleyway when he pointed to R’yak and Str’ek and clenched his fist to let them know to form up. While the mark was just an Ixtali, she had made them, so she wasn’t stupid.

  He wasn’t sure what she had under her robes, but a big enough gun could and would ruin his night.

  It was happenstance that the dipshit back at the bar had contacted them. He had gone to empty his bladder, and while trying to change stations he’d hit the button to call them. Surprised, he’d answered E’det’s questions and said, yeah, there was someone snooping around.

  They had arrived just as the Ixtali was leaving. She had stopped stumbling along as soon as she was halfway down the block from the bar.

  Yup, she was a pro.

  He wasn’t sure when she had made them, but she had. He wasn’t about to just run into an alley after a pro. However, his blood was starting to rise and his two partners had it worse.

  “Just be careful,” he hissed.

  “It’s an Ixtali,” R’yak replied. “They deal in secrets, not destruction.”

  “I didn’t see any heavy ordnance,” Str’ek commented as they approached the alley opening. “We’ll heal from a small-caliber pistol.”

  “It’s better not to have to heal in the first place,” E’det growled. Youth was truly wasted on the young, he thought. “So try not to get stuck in a damned hospital or I’m taking your fees to pay off your medical bill.”

  “Damn,” Str’ek spat. “Don’t need to be a piece of bistok shit about it.”

  The three entered the alley, allowing their eyes to adjust for a moment before continuing farther in.

  From above them, her legs holding her in place, the female Ixtali watched her prey enter her lair. Her mandibles barely moved in her excitement.

  A moment later she pulled her hands out of her sleeves, a knife in each, as she released her hold and dropped.

  High Tortuga, Hidden Space Fleet Base, Personal Quarters

  Bethany Anne put up a hand. “Hold it right there, Michael.”

  Michael had entered their suite, but he was still in the family and friends section. He glanced to his left and right, then looked at her. “What?”

  “I’m curious about something,” she answered. She was sitting on the couch, her large stomach making her lean backward. “It seems that you have become quite the nature watcher.”

  Michael pulled out a wrapped piece of candy, and popped it in his mouth. He started moving it around. “Mmmhmmm.”

  “And you’re working with William on a barbeque pit?”

  “That’s right,” he agreed.

  “And with Jean on weapons?”

  “Correct again.” He sat down on the couch facing her.

  “So what are you going to hunt, kill, and eat?”

  “A dinosaur,” Michael replied.

  Bethany Anne stared at him. Her eyes occasionally blinked, but otherwise she had no expression. “’A dinosaur?’”

  He shrugged. “Well, that’s the closest thing to what it looks like. On the Southern Continent, there are reptile type creatures which are anywhere from twenty-five feet tall on up. I saw one that topped trees, so call it fifty feet.”

  “How are you planning on hunting them, and why the barbeque pit?”

  “It would be a waste of flesh otherwise,” he replied. “I’m not a trophy hunter.”

  Bethany Anne blinked some more, trying to piece this conversation together. “Okay,” then “OUCH!”

  Michael was next to her as fast as she could blink. “Trouble?”

  “No!” She grimaced, breathing out. “How many times have you been amazed at the kicking? It hurts. You should hear TOM bitch every once in a while.”

  “How does he have room in there?” Michael put his hand on her stomach and opened his mind, feeling for and hearing the emotions Bethany Anne was releasing.

  She was in more pain than she was admitting.

  He frowned.

  ADAM’s voice came over the system. “Admiral Thomas is reporting that very long-range scanners show ships inbound from two directions. ArchAngel II is waiting for orders. Staying closer to the planet. The Admiral has released three battleships to intercept Group 01. Twenty-two ships… Now fifty-four ships.”

  “Those aren’t all for war,” Michael pursed his lips, “Decoys, probably dropping missiles as well. Hide the real missiles within the extra missiles. They probably just want one to hit.”

  “I’m…” She paused a moment, teeth clenched. “Shit!” she hissed, eyes opening wide as she gripped Michael’s hand tightly. “Going into labor!”

  20

  Goptek Major, Alley

  Shrillexians did not, as a rule, scream.

  Str’ek freaked out when two clawed feet grabbed his shoulders. The weight buckled his knees and he stumbled, causing the legs to release.

  Whipping around, he pulled his pistol, his adrenaline spiking when he saw a robed Wraith.

  Her clothes hid
R’yak’s eyes and two of her legs were on his shoulders. The other two kicked E’det in the face, blood streaming from the wounds her claws ripped on their way past.

  “Bistok shit!” E’det shouted, his pistol waving in the general direction of the Ixtali, but his hastily-fired shots only blew pockets in the stone, showering the alley with shards.

  Str’ek was shocked when she pulled up the bottom of her robes and R’yak’s disbelieving eyes were revealed. The male’s blood flowed freely from a neck slashed so deeply that his head toppled backward when she pushed up to flip backward. R’yak’s body was tossed by her movement toward Str’ek, who dodged out of the way and aimed around his dead partner to fire two shots right into the center of her torso.

  Her robe jerked at each impact.

  The Ixtali stumbled to her right, then ran for the wall to Str’ek’s left. R’yak’s body slammed into him, knocking him off-balance, and he fell to his knees.

  The Ixtali climbed the wall, two legs grabbing jutting pipes as her arms flashed in the meager light and silver slices flew through the night.

  Str’ek threw an arm up to protect his eyes…

  But nothing hit him.

  E’det grunted as he pulled the knives out of his chest.

  Str’ek rolled to his left and looked upward as a dark body jumped down behind E’det.

  “BEHIND YOU!” Str’ek yelled as he pushed off the ground but E’det only gurgled, blood streaming from his neck where two more knives pierced it.

  Str’ek crab-walked backward, trying to get space between him and this demon.

  Addix lifted E’det as he struggled to pull the knives out.

  Her hiss into his ears frightened him more than anything else he had seen so far.

  “Don’t you think,” she told him, “that a master at spying would know exactly how to kill a vaunted Shrillexian? This black widow loves to eat her victims.”

  Cold flooded Str’ek’s veins as he turned got his feet under him and ran towards the alley’s exit.

  She dropped E’det’s body and her right hand dipped into her robes, pulling out a strange-looking pistol.

  —

  Yank was hurrying through the night. He had just been stood up at the Torcellan restaurant by the vice-president of the competing division, so frankly his night couldn’t get worse.

  She claimed she had been called into an emergency meeting, but that probably meant she would prefer to go home and sleep rather than have dinner with him. His eyes roamed the street, perhaps hoping he would spot her still trying to make their meeting.

  He had messaged her to say he would wait for another half-stan before leaving in case she could get free.

  He saw three couples and a male, a Torcellan like him, walking in the opposite direction on the other side, his head down.

  Yank spat in disgust. There wasn’t anyone on this street having a worse night than him.

  As he started toward his home, liquid sprayed out of the alley just a few steps ahead at eye level and spattered on the ground.

  Then a headless Shrillexian body tumbled from the alley to land half in the street and half on the sidewalk.

  Yank’s jaw dropped and his heart pounded, but he edged closer to the alley. Hearing no sounds, he looked around the corner but could see nothing in the darkness. The streetlights didn’t penetrate the gloom.

  He looked around, not knowing what to say or do.

  A couple across the street screamed as he edged into the alley.

  A moment later he too screamed as he ran out again. The two sets of dead eyes he had just seen would haunt his dreams for weeks to come.

  He didn’t think about the vice-president again that evening.

  A black-robed figure climbed over the edge of the roof and disappeared into the night.

  Above High Tortuga, Bridge of the ArchAngel II

  There were one hundred and twelve ships of varying sizes. Each could shoot a minimum of ten missiles, Admiral Thomas was informed.

  This wasn’t a large fleet battle for supremacy, but rather a concerted effort to hit one location on the planet. His people and ships could destroy all hundred and twelve ships, but if just one of the wrong type of missile made it down to the planet they would lose.

  Thomas pursed his lips. “ArchAngel…” He glanced at the screens at the front of the bridge from which Bethany Anne’s visage was studying him. “Launch all Black Eagles, all Pods; everything we have. Put them into space without their crews. Use the EIs still on the planet to fly them. We’ll use them as a defensive shield.

  “We will be short five hundred Pods based on present estimates.”

  “I know. Use the pucks on the Black Eagles to attack the missiles.”

  “Understood, Admiral.” The visage disappeared.

  Admiral Bartholomew Thomas raised an eyebrow. He had been in many space fleet battles with the AIs ArchAngel II, ArchAngel, and Reynolds and this was the first time one of their avatars had ever disappeared.

  Just what were the AIs going to do?

  High Tortuga, Space Fleet Base

  Michael streaked down the hallways like a man possessed with Bethany Anne in his arms. He flung fear out ahead of him, willing those who might be near to get out of his way and cower against the walls as the blur that was him and Bethany Anne dashed by.

  He had no time to scream to people to get out of the way as he came up on them. He had tried mentally commanding and yelling, but it had just confused those walking the halls. Fear, on the other hand, ramped up their basic fight-or-flight instinct and got them out of the hallway’s center.

  He sure hoped he didn’t clip anyone with one of Bethany Anne’s booted feet.

  He shut off his ability to scare others thirty-two seconds later and slowed down long enough to nod to the two hospital orderlies who had just slammed open the doors, having received word that the Queen was in labor.

  “In there!” a woman called, and Michael’s head snapped around. His eyes were gleaming red, and she swallowed. He nodded sharply and headed into the indicated room, kicking open the swinging doors.

  “I will survive,” Bethany Anne had her hand on his neck, and she could feel his blood racing. While Michael didn’t need blood coursing through his body, she thought it was nice that he worried about her like he did. Now, if he would just settle down and not freak out it would go a long way toward making this a better experience for everyone.

  Especially the doctors. She didn’t need their hands shaking because Michael was in full Lord Vampire of Death mode because he was worried about his fiancée and their child. “Settle down!” she told him. “We are both fine.”

  Michael ignored her as he slowly laid her on the bed, the paper-like substance crinkling. “You are going to have to help me out of these clothes, Michael,” she told him, already trying to unwrap the tie that was holding up her pants.

  Thank God she didn’t have armor on; that would have been a bitch to get out of.

  “What?” Michael asked, coming back to himself. “Get naked?”

  “Yes,” she answered, “It’s how babies are born. You don’t just unzip your pants and they pop out, so help me here.”

  Michael’s lips pressed together. He ignored the three people who had rushed into the room behind him and were now chatting about the upcoming birth and how exciting it was.

  He focused on Bethany Anne’s request and helped her get undressed.

  Someone beside him laid down a small blanket which he tossed over Bethany Anne as she wiggled out of the pants. “You are going to have to…” She stopped telling him anything when his eyes snapped to her.

  “Right,” she mumbled, “I had to go and hook up with a man so old-fashioned he pre-dates the term,” she grumbled. “Damn, it’s cold.” She looked around, spying the doctor, “Evgeni? You guys got any booties?”

  Michael finally spoke. “I thought TOM helped with that,” he asked. He reached under the covers, using the Etheric to warm up his hands and holding one, then the other on he
r feet.

  “Oh, God!” Her eyes rolled a bit to the back of her head. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a walking heat-stone?”

  “You’ve never needed to be warmed up,” he answered. “So I’ve never thought about it.”

  A nurse went to the other side of Bethany Anne. “Good to see you again, my Queen.” She made sure Bethany Anne’s head was comfortable. “I take it this man is the father?”

  Michael’s head snapped up, but Bethany Anne’s hand was on his arm just as fast. “Don’t you move those heating stones. She’s just being social, trying to lower the stress.”

  Nurse…Jollenstein, Michael read, smiled at him, but the smile dropped off her face as he stared at her. “Right, that was a joke. Sorry.” Her eyes flicked down to Michael’s fangs, which were now protruding half an inch from between his lips.

  Bethany Anne’s touch helped calm him and he took a deep breath. “I’ll be fine.” He forced a smile. “I thought I had more time to prepare.”

  “First baby?” Jollenstein asked, having gotten over her shock of having an incarnation of death staring at her in the delivery room.

  The nurse sure hoped… She stopped and thought about it. She had been going to say she sure hoped they didn’t have a girl with a father like that, but after glancing at the Queen she wondered if any date their son brought home was going to want to meet her?

  “Yes.” Michael nodded and held Bethany Anne’s hand, dealing with the pain as two of the smaller bones healed after she cracked them by squeezing too hard.

  “Sorry,” she grated out. “Got a little carried away with that one.

  “Hello.”

  Michael turned to see a man with “Dr. Dizon” stenciled on his uniform. “Seems like we are going to be welcoming a new baby into this world today.” He glanced at Michael. “Dad, I’d like you to get closer to Mom. We are all aware she is pretty damned strong, and frankly, I’m going to need you to take that punishment. Because if she kicks me, I won’t heal quite so fast.”

 

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