by Stacy Jones
That stopped Zaek in his tracks. For a second they just blinked at each other before she snorted out what sounded like a hysterical laugh, which cut off just as abruptly as it started when he narrowed his eyes at her. Her face went white, and he heard her gulp.
For a human, particularly such a minuscule one, she was brave. While that was a trait he admired greatly, he was more than a little offended she suggested he squall like an Earthian infant.
Straightening to his full height, he glared down at her and growled, “I do not weep, human. Move aside or you are the one that will be bawling.”
Satisfaction spread through him at delivering such an exemplary and clever retort, even as he felt a twinge for threatening her.
“Only if I lose the device,” she squeaked. “They’d probably kill me.”
Zaek reared back slightly at that statement, his immediate reaction at the thought of her death one of violent refusal, before good sense kicked in and he decided she, like Roc, must be fond of exaggerating. He huffed and, tiring of the delay, however interesting he might find it, stalked up to her and cupped her narrow shoulders in his clawed hands, intending to move her away from his beacon.
However, the second he was standing close enough to get an undiluted whiff of her scent, the tingle in his mouth—the one he’d refused to acknowledge—changed to a swelling sensation. That he could not dismiss as some random aliment.
My mating gland!
9
Zaek
A smile started to stretch Zaek’s mouth as he stared down at the human without really seeing her. He’d thought his gland was defective. He’d been approaching his four hundredth year when he left on the exploratory mission that ended with a crash landing on Earth. In all that time, he hadn’t found his Hondassa. He’d begun to think he never would, regardless of the teachings that said everyone had one.
Reality intruded on his elation when he refocused on the human he was pressed almost chest to face with—the one gaping up at him with a look of such fear it was as if she were just waiting for him to murder her or eat her alive like some rabid animal.
Or monster.
“No. It cannot be,” he whispered, eyes widening in disbelief, but it came out garbled and unintelligible since his tongue was pushed up against the roof of his mouth by the dirty, lying, painfully swollen gland.
He stood there frozen, his heart thundering in his ears as he tried to reason out what was happening, not believing this human was what caused his gland to fill, especially to such an extensive degree that it hurt.
Maybe it is just a reaction. What do the Earthians call it?
“An allergy!” he blurted, answering his own question and startling the female so badly she yelped.
I am allergic to her. Yes. Yes. That is obviously what is happening here.
“It is just a fluke. No need to panic. My malfunctioning mating gland is just swollen with allergies. Yes. Calm down, little human,” he babbled, blindly patting her on the head as if she were the one about to melt down into hysterics.
If he paused for a second to pet the soft, silky curls of her hair, he was sure it was unnoticeable and easily dismissed as his claws getting caught.
A sound in the distance of running footsteps and low, masculine voices snapped him out of his stupor.
“There! See? Now we do not have time to think about this… development. We have to escape the men with guns. Problem solved!” he crowed happily to the white-faced, terrified female.
“What?” she exclaimed, whipping an alarmed look at the open door he hadn’t thought to look for when he arrived.
“Hmm?” he voiced absentmindedly as he reached around her and picked up the beacon, yanking it free of the various wires in the process. “Oh. No, not you. Me. You will be fine.”
He hadn’t taken more than a step back to the door he’d entered through before a dozen men burst into the room. They didn’t call out for him to stop, nor did they scream and run in the opposite direction.
They spotted him and immediately opened fire.
Reacting instantly, Zaek turned his skin and wings to stone then wrapped his wings around his front to protect the beacon.
Unfortunately, the female had no such protection, and it didn’t take more than a split second to see the soldiers were perfectly willing to shoot through her to get to him.
Allergy or not, he was disinclined to let her die because of him. Even if he was such a dishonorable male, his body gave him no choice. He was moving before he made the conscious decision to do so.
Almost faster than their human eyes could track, Zaek sprang forward, lifted her off her feet, and pulled her to him. Spinning on his heels, he turned his back to the soldiers, letting his armored suit and stone skin deflect their bullets.
With a sweep of his tail, he knocked a few of them off their feet as he lifted and tucked his wings tightly against the front of his body. That forced the female to curl into a ball and created a pocket of sorts across his middle, from his hips to his underarms, just big enough to fit her small form and the beacon. Supporting her with his left arm inside the pouch, he kept his right free and unholstered his tranq gun.
Zaek got a completely unwanted, first-hand experience as to what being a pregnant female might feel like as he ran from the room under a hail of automatic gunfire.
He glanced back just before rounding the doorway and had time to fire off two darts, taking down the two men in the lead and slowing the ones behind them, giving him a much-needed head start.
Normally, he was faster than most any Earthians, even as big as he was. But, for the first few feet, he was forced into a lumbering waddle-run that lacked both speed and anything resembling his usual litheness. Carrying the beacon, and the woman against his stomach huddled into a ball and confined in the pouch he’d made of his wings, threw off his balance. Zaek compensated for the extra weight by leaning back, but that forced him to run in an awkwardly upright position.
Now, he felt like a pregnant female who was also sticking her chest out in challenge.
I understand why females say they feel like beached mazuuts when heavy with young.
He tried to hold the human as tightly as possible without causing her injury, but he could feel her bouncing around despite his efforts. Still, she remained mostly quiet with the exception of a few grunts and yelps when she hit the unyielding surface of his stone wings. That changed after he almost went sprawling at the first turn in the hallway.
Zaek thought for sure he was going to slip and slide until he fell on his tail. He caught himself by digging the claws on his feet into the floor for traction, but that near fumble prompted the female to start the screaming she’d forgotten to do earlier.
More claw, less pad.
As much as her shrieking hurt his ears, he couldn’t help but smile a little, even as he tranqed another soldier and put on a burst of speed to widen the gap between them. This was the first time since coming to this planet that a human’s screams were not directed at him.
“You are safe, Earthian. Do not fret,” he garbled breathlessly as he ran around another corner, his mouth still not quite working properly with the swollen mating gland.
Zaek counted the hallways, tracing his way back to the elevator and the only way out. The combined weight of her, the beacon, and his stone skin made running difficult, but he wasn’t willing to abandon either or retract his defences for more speed.
Her response to his reassuring statement was to choke out something vaguely resembling words before she screamed, very loudly, “HELP ME!”
Poor thing is hysterical. She must not be accustomed to such excitement.
He chuckled slightly even as his heart squeezed with sympathy. He thought it was pretty apparent that’s what he was doing, but he stated the obvious anyway since she was clearly panicked.
“I am helping you, Fluffy Bunny.”
It came out more like I mm hellg oo fufy unny, but Zaek was sure it was the thought that counted here. He tried to pet he
r to calm her down without letting go of his tight grip, which meant he mostly just flexed his fingers against her waist. He wasn’t sure she even noticed his efforts, but it made him feel better that he was making some attempt to soothe her since it was partially his fault she was in this predicament.
10
Mira
Mira was freaking out. This was not at all how she’d fantasized first contact would go.
Instead of the historic, intellectual meeting between higher life forms she’d imagined, she found herself, one seriously beefy arm, and her device squished inside some kind of alien kangaroo pouch, half of which was comprised of a rock-like surface she could’ve sworn were leathery wings only seconds ago.
More distressingly, she was being shot at by the very men who were supposed to protect her. She was sure they were actually shooting at the alien, but they were obviously perfectly fine with her being collateral damage, since they’d tried to shoot through her to get to him—assuming the towering wall of grey muscle, and the bulge she’d clocked in his matte black alien suit, denoted maleness.
I knew I couldn’t trust those bastards!
Mira was fairly sure she was in the beginning stages of shock. Her mind was trying to focus on what was somewhat familiar—men with guns—instead of attempting to come to terms with what just happened—kidnapped by a living gargoyle.
That insulating layer of shock lasted right up until the giant alien went skidding, sending her head thunking back against the rock half of the pitch black pouch she was squashed into, despite the tight, bracing hold he had on her waist. The blow knocked loose enough sense that she realized sitting there like an idiot wasn’t going to help her get free. She had no way of knowing if he’d snatched her up just to save her life, or if he’d taken her with the intention of using her for leverage. If it were the latter, she would probably die. She wasn’t important enough to use as leverage.
Even knowing it most likely wouldn’t have any appreciable effect, the urge to scream for help wasn’t one she could resist.
“HELP ME!”
Mira felt, more than heard, the alien’s rude chuckle in response to her screech. She thought he said something after his laugh but, between the gunshots ricocheting off him, the muffling effect of the rock, and the odd way he enunciated them, the words were jumbled.
Okay, think Mira! Have to find a way out of this without getting killed.
Taking a deep breath that smelled of her own perfume mixed with earthiness and a spice she had no name for, she did her best to calm her thoughts while still being jostled around like clothes in a washing machine.
Mira stiffened as much as the small space allowed when there was a lull in automatic gunfire, hopeful that someone with more intellect than muscle had shown up and stopped those idiots from trying to kill her and her first alien.
Holding her breath, she strained her ears, trying to understand the shouted orders of the security men pursuing them. As if they were trying to help her in the worst way possible, she heard with almost perfect clarity the order that sounded as if it came over a radio.
“Capture them—the traitor dead or alive, but I want that specimen and the device intact!”
Mira immediately recognized General Harrison’s voice, but it took a moment for the words to sink in.
Traitor? They can’t possibly think…
Yes, they’d tried to shoot through her, but that was vastly different to dubbing her an outright traitor and actively trying to kill her. Was it because she hadn’t tried to fight the alien off when he’d grabbed her? They opened fire! What was she supposed to do? Kindly tell him no, thank you, I’m okay with being riddled with bullets. Just leave me here. Besides, it was her first time seeing an alien. She thought being a little stunned and slow to react was understandable. Apparently not.
“Ucking hoomuns,” she heard her captor growl out, but didn’t understand the anger coloring his words.
He had to know they’d want to either capture or kill him at this point, considering the first meeting went as it had. They obviously weren’t going to invite him to sit down to a civilized get together.
When the gunfire started up again, it was short-lived but almost deafening. She realized they were no longer aiming at the alien’s back. They were now aiming at his stone wings, behind which she was hidden. Every time he rounded a corner, obvious by the world tilting, a volley of bullets rained down on one side of her pouch or the other.
Confusion pushed aside some of her fear. Even if they managed to chip away at the rock enough to make a hole or get to any tissue that might be underneath, a wound to his wings wouldn’t be enough to kill him unless his physiology was vastly different than it appeared. It might be enough of an injury to slow him down, but she honestly didn’t think it would be anywhere close to enough to stop him. The thought made her nauseous, but surely aiming at his legs would have a better chance at disabling him while not risking immediate death. So why were they shooting at his wings?
The answer was both obvious and horrifying. She just didn’t particularly want to acknowledge it.
They’re aiming at me.
Panic burned through her like acid, sending her into a frenzy.
“No! I’m not a traitor! Stop shooting!” she screamed, pounding on the stone so hard her knuckles split.
She could feel the warmth of her own blood painting the rock and splattering back against her face and neck, but she didn’t stop. Even when the alien shouted for her to cease and squeezed her middle so hard she couldn’t breathe, she didn’t stop.
She regretted everything—her ambition, not telling them about the device’s sudden activity, thinking she could keep everything under wraps until she was ready to present her findings and rub her success in Calvin’s face. How stupid could she have been to think it would all go her way? She should’ve known better. Life had never given her anything without making her pay for it one way or another.
That was her last thought before the alien jerked to an abrupt stop and sent her head whipping to the side. Pain was a brief flare before she slumped against his chest as blackness descended over her.
11
Zaek
Zaek was no longer feeling any amusement. He could not recall a mission he’d botched so spectacularly in all his years as this one… except the one that landed him here. Not only had he completely failed to remain undetected, but by saving the female from certain death at their hands he’d, somehow, convinced the soldiers that she was his ally and, therefore, a traitor.
Having heard the command that came over their radios, he knew what they were trying to do when they ceased firing upon his back and legs, and instead took aim at his wings where the female was sheltered.
The rage that washed over him at that realization very nearly overpowered his good intentions. It took every shred of willpower not to turn around and rend them limb from limb until their blood decorated the walls of their underground maze.
Dishonorable, barbaric, uncivilized Earthian males! How fucking dare they try to shoot my mat-
His eyes widened and his heart skipped a beat at what he’d almost thought.
Mat… elote! That is obviously what I was going to say. Not that she smells anything like fish stew…
She smells like sugar, which is the best damn scent on this world or any other. Still, delectable scent and confused gland or not, she cannot be my mate.
Sliding around another corner, he braced for another short round of bullets. The humans didn’t disappoint. They opened fire as soon as they had a clear shot of his wings. If he didn’t get the fuck out of here, and soon, they’d chip away at his stone enough to get to her. Hell, they were close to succeeding already. His stone was cracking. Zaek thickened it, but the drain on his energy was significant enough to make him stumble for a step before he caught himself. Mate or not, if they hit her he’d kill them, Prime Directive be damned.
Holding the tranq gun between his teeth to free his only available hand, he yanked a flash b
omb out of the holster strapped to his thigh, pulled the pin, then threw it back at the soldiers. Bracing, he squinted his eyes and prepared to have his sensitive ears abused. They shouted a warning but there were no doorways along this stretch of hallway so they couldn’t avoid the blast of light and sound.
Zaek had understood when they’d been willing to shoot through her to get to him in the lab. It pissed him off and he wasn’t willing to allow it to happen, but he understood. He was a big, scary monster, and he’d been on this planet long enough to be intimately acquainted with humans’ propensity to use their weapons first and ask queries second. They had no way of knowing he had no desire or intention to hurt them, would in fact go to great lengths to avoid such a scenario.
But intentionally aiming for her was going too far.
He knew the second she realized what was happening because she went wild against his chest, beating on his wings and screaming at them to stop, that she wasn’t a traitor. He felt his chest tighten at the terror in her voice before a snarl curled his lips. The temptation to turn around and make them feel the fear they were inflicting on her was so intense his steps slowed.
If he hadn’t caught a whiff of her blood he might have done something he’d regret for the rest of his long life. But he did and the need to get her to safety, so he could treat her wounds, overpowered everything else.
Bowing himself over his wings, he put on a burst of speed and turned the skin of his face and head to stone, trying to block as many of their shots as possible. Finally, the open elevator doors came into sight. When Zaek slid to a stop in front of them, he felt the female jerk at his abrupt movement, followed by an unnerving thud, before she went limp and silent.
“Fuck!” he exploded around the gun clenched between his teeth.
He knew he’d just knocked her out, but there was no time to stop and check on her. He could feel her breathing and that had to be good enough for now.