by Stacy Jones
Bending quickly, he snatched the knife out of the tracks. The doors began to close immediately, but not before some Macero-cursed asshole shot him right in the fucking foot.
His military issue boots had long ago worn out and human footwear was insufferably uncomfortable. Thickening the stone on his wings to protect her meant he sacrificed some protection on other areas. The bullet cracked the thin layer of stone upon impact and sank deep into the flesh of his foot.
Zaek snatched the tranq gun out of his mouth and growled out every Earthian and Khargal curse word he could think of. Having been a soldier for most of his life meant he had plenty of experience with blocking out pain, but damn that stung.
He took a moment to catch his breath and prepare himself while the elevator rose to the top level. There would be soldiers waiting and they would fire as soon as the doors opened. That meant he’d have to fight his way through an unknown number of men before he, and the unconscious female, were free.
Free for the moment, at any rate.
When he’d snatched her up in the lab, Zaek had a half-formed idea of dropping her off in the desert just outside the base. His goal had only been to get her out of immediate danger. But, that was no longer an option. He didn’t know what the fuck he was supposed to do with her, but leaving her behind would be a death sentence.
Figure it out later. Focus on making it out of here alive.
Taking another deep breath, he unstoned his wings just enough to peek in at her. She was indeed unconscious, but the bump on her temple was small and her breathing and heartbeat were steady. When her sugary scent hit his snout, his gland throbbed and his cock hardened. Reacting immediately, he did the only reasonable thing he could—held his breath and sealed her back up again.
Nope. Must concentrate on the men with guns, not how fucking guilty we feel that she got hurt because of us and damn sure not how unreasonably cute she looks all curled up like a bunny.
Zaek instantly felt the drain pulling at him as he put more energy into thickening the stone of his wings as much as possible. Beneath his armored suit, he was completely flesh. His suit would protect him from most of their firearms, but without stone to reinforce it, it wouldn’t be able to deflect any bigger artillery. He just had to hope they didn’t break out the big guns since the last order he’d heard was to capture him alive.
Turning himself to stone had a cost, and he’d done it multiple times in a short span. Zaek knew there would be a hell of a price to pay for expending so much energy. As soon as they were out of immediate danger, he’d have no choice. He would have to go into duramna for a few hours to heal and recover, which meant he’d be dead to the world.
Being of the warrior class and having purer blood than most afforded him a great many benefits, but at a certain point even his body would shut down. He and the female would be helpless, but there was no alternative and no way to fight it, not with how much damage he’d taken and how much energy he’d used.
The elevator dinged as it reached the top. As he’d anticipated, the soldiers opened fire the second the doors slid open and he came into view.
In rapid succession, he threw another flash bang and two smoke bombs. When the doors were open wide enough for him to get through, he ran as fast as he could with the extra weight and sluggishness slowing him down.
Zaek barrelled through the squadron of disoriented soldiers like a football player, sending them flying off into the smoky hangar.
Gunfire, shouts of pain as he hit them, and yelled orders filled the open building to thunderous levels, but through the noise Zaek caught a calm voice—the same one he’d heard in the lower levels—that came over someone’s radio.
“Belay the capture order. Neutralize them both and bring me the bodies.”
Good luck with that, asshole.
The shots that had been aimed at his legs and wings changed to his head, ricocheting off the thicker stone there and hitting a few of their own people, adding their screams to the deafening mix.
Zaek smiled grimly and kept running.
The second he passed the hangar doors, he unstoned and unfolded his wings, still running from the few soldiers still capable of pursuing him. The female’s limp legs flopped down without the pouch to keep her curled into a ball. He held her tightly with one arm and the beacon with the other, then took to the air. Gritting his teeth with the strain, he rose high into the sky where they couldn’t get him.
Glancing down, he quickly inspected the female in the faint light of the rising sun. With the exception of split knuckles and the bump on her temple, she was unharmed. The beacon seemed to have been spared any damage from being bounced around within his wings.
Other than what she had caused.
He’d have to put the damn thing back together but, looking closer as he flew away, he could see that she’d replaced most of the connections, fried by the EMP that caused the crash, with human tech.
He looked at her with admiration, surprised she’d managed to not just figure out his people’s technology, but fix the beacon as well. The humans having knowledge of how it worked was less than ideal but he could admit, to himself at least, that he was impressed.
Zaek whipped a look over his shoulder when he heard vehicles start up below him. He saw a dozen white trucks peel out of the hangar, each loaded down with men, right before a whining sound reached him. Scanning the sky, he spotted their little flying toys chasing after him.
Growling out another round of obscenities, he flew faster, pushing himself harder. He was running on determination and fury right now, but he knew he wouldn’t make it far before he had to stop. Shoving the beacon into his bag to free up an arm, he held the female around her waist and unholstered his handgun in preparation.
There was a mountain range rising from the desert up ahead. He’d have to lose the trucks there.
Zaek made it to the mountains, but not before he found out the hard way that the humans had mounted guns on their flying toys. He took a hit to his left wing. It missed the bones, but the bleeding hole in his membrane hurt like a bitch and made maneuvering through the peaks harder than it already was with all the added weight.
He’d managed to lose the trucks since they couldn’t follow him on the ground, and had shot down four of the five toys. The last one, however, was stubbornly clinging to his tail and dodging his bullets. Spotting a rock face up ahead, he had an idea and headed for it. Right as he came up to it, he tucked his wings tight to his back, blocking out the stabbing pain that went through his wing, and took a sharp turn, banking so close to the mountain he scraped his shoulder on the stone.
Angling his ears back he waited, then bared his teeth in a predatory smile when he heard the last one crash into the mountain.
12
Zaek
He flew for another two hours, steadily losing momentum, dipping and rising like he’d drunk too much guurlk, before he spotted a cabin tucked away in a copse of trees in the valley between the mountains.
It looked abandoned, but to be safe he made a loop around it, blinking hard to clear the blurriness out of his eyes and scanning what he could see of the land, to make sure he wasn’t going to surprise some unsuspecting human. By the grace of Lar, the female hadn’t woken up during his aerial escape, but he was starting to worry that he’d inadvertently hurt her more than he’d initially thought.
All the crew aboard the ship had basic first-aid training, but she wasn’t Khargal and his knowledge of human anatomy was minimal. If she were seriously injured he’d have no choice but to either take her to a healing center or abduct a physician. He was willing to do both, but that would bring attention they couldn’t afford. Worse, it would mean she really was badly injured which, for reasons he wasn’t willing to acknowledge, made him feel like his chest was being squeezed in a vise.
Landing with a grunt, Zaek stumbled but caught himself before he fell and crushed the tiny female hanging limply from his arm. He couldn’t recall ever being as tired as he was at that moment
. His entire body was one big ball of pain and he was sluggishly leaking blood from bullet holes. His wounds had started to heal, but he’d need to go into the second level of duramna, at least, to finish regenerating.
He wanted nothing more than to find a semi-soft surface and collapse, but he had to check the cabin, perimeter, and the female before he could do that.
Zaek set her and the beacon gently on the ground within the cover of the trees then crept closer to the cabin, listening for any out of place sounds. With the exception of normal forest noises, all was quiet… until he climbed the porch steps. The wood complained at his weight, creaking loudly and ruining any element of surprise he might have had.
Sighing, he abandoned stealth in favor of speed.
Kicking the door in, he swept the house as quickly as he could. It was small, with one empty bedroom, one bathroom, and a kitchen that flowed into a tiny living room. The few pieces of furniture present were old and worn, and the entire place was coated in a layer of dust, telling him it had been deserted for a while.
After securing the house, he checked the perimeter, drawing in deep breaths to catch any recent scents. Not finding anything, he retrieved his two stolen treasures and went back inside, wedging the door shut behind him.
Holding her and the beacon cradled in his arms, he used his tail to sweep as much of the dust as possible off the couch before carefully laying her down. He bent and stashed the beacon and his supply bag under the couch where they weren’t immediately visible but still close at hand in case they needed to make a quick getaway, then straightened with a groan.
He was starting to feel more than a little dizzy and knew he needed to hurry before his body began turning to stone without his willing it, but he paused for a second to stare down at her. Zaek told himself he was checking her for any new injuries, but his gaze lingered on her relaxed face, tracing her delicate features, and the mess of black curls spread around it, even more tangled now after their flight.
He curled his fingers into his palms so he didn’t accidentally reach out to touch that cloud of hair and shifted his tongue, absentmindedly feeling the swollen gland.
She is beautiful.
“And brave,” he quietly added, remembering her surprising but delightful lack of screaming.
She is clearly not my mate… but if she were, she would not be a bad one.
“Agreed. But she is not, so stop thinking about things you cannot have.”
His reasoning that his reaction to her was an allergy was beginning to feel less plausible now, but he stubbornly held onto it anyway. He was leaving this planet, and he couldn’t imagine she would want to go with him. Better to not even entertain thoughts of what it would be like to be hers or for her to be his.
He knew he’d lost a bit of sanity over the centuries. If he doubted his ability to be a good mate to a Khargal female, with which he had some familiarity, regardless of how long ago, he damn sure wouldn’t make a good mate to a human with which he had zero familiarity.
Not true. We have watched enough television plays to see how Earthians court each other…
Shaking his head at himself, he retreated from her and the thoughts that were trying to creep into his mind.
While raiding the cabin, he found an unlabeled can in one of the cabinets, an old bathing cloth, and three small bandages in one of the drawers, but that was all. The water was shut off which didn’t surprise him, but the working pump outside did. Finding an old bucket nearby, he washed it and the rag, then filled it and took it back inside.
He set his meager bounty on the floor beside the couch then groaned as he lowered himself to sit. He gently cleaned and bandaged the worst of her split knuckles, then wet and folded the cloth, laying it over her forehead.
Zaek felt the skin of his wings and legs turning to stone before he’d finished caring for her, felt the bullet in his foot beginning to surface as his body pushed it out, but he determinedly ignored it until he’d done everything he could to make her comfortable. If she were not awake by the time he came out of his healing sleep, he would find her a physician, but for now he needed rest.
Lying down on the floor with his body between hers and the door, he shut his eyes and stopped fighting it, letting the duramna fall over him. His body slowly turned to stone until he resembled the lifeless gargoyle statues for which his people were mistaken.
13
Mira
Mira awoke slowly but kept her eyes shut, wondering just how much wine she’d had the night before to have such a splitting headache. She finally braved squinting them open when she realized her room didn’t smell anything like she was used to, and her comfortable bed had morphed into a lumpy surface riddled with springs that were digging into her spine, like the talons of some sleep-ruining little monster. The sight that greeted her was definitely not the ceiling at either her apartment or her room at the base.
Huh. That’s weir… HOLY SHIT! I was kidnapped by an alien!
Memories flooded her with the force of a tsunami, making her headache worse. Thankfully, the adrenaline rush that followed dulled the pain just enough for panic to take the forefront.
Whipping a look around, she took in the old, abandoned cabin, searching for a giant gargoyle or men with guns. It appeared empty, but just as she swung her legs off the couch she was lying on to make a run for it, her gaze fell to the floor and the massive stone statue lying there. That confused her enough to stop her from racing out of the room screaming.
“What the hell?” she gasped.
Mira blinked at the statue in bewildered disbelief for a second, before the thought that it looked exactly like the alien who’d saved her from being turned into swiss cheese by the security team’s bullets filtered past the panic and headache.
Why would he have a statue of himself? That’s… absurd.
Cradling her head, she squinted and gave the cabin a more thorough inspection. She peered into the corners, thrown into shadow by the setting sun, searching for her kidnapping savior.
“What kind of kidnapper leaves their victim alone? Seems silly, not to mention ineffective,” she muttered to herself, beginning to calm down now that there wasn’t an immediate threat.
Staring at the statue again, she touched the sore spot on her temple then lowered her hand when she felt something pulling at the skin of her knuckles. She frowned when she saw three old-looking bandaids sticking to her hand then spotted the discarded wrappers on the floor along with a folded rag and a half-full bucket of water.
That he’d treated her injuries probably meant he didn’t want to kill her or beam her up to his ship for some probing or experimentation. That tipped him out of the kidnapper column and into the savior one which made her feel infinitely better about her chances with him and made his leaving her alone more logical. After all, you didn’t need to restrain or guard someone you didn’t mean to keep against their will.
Sliding off the couch to sit on the floor, she leaned in to take a closer look at the statue. Something about it was nagging at her, but when she tried to grasp the thought, it slid away, hiding under the throbbing in her temples and the haziness clouding her thoughts.
It was a beautiful and impressively accurate depiction of him, if her memory served. He looked even bigger as a statue which she wouldn’t have thought possible since he’d seemed like an absolute giant when she opened her lab door to find him standing on the other side. Maybe it was being so close that made him seem so massive, or he could have had the statue made to be bigger than the real thing. Alien or not, that seemed like a male thing to do.
His face was as she remembered, harsh and angular with a broad nose, wide, thin lips, and big eyes set under a pronounced brow, decorated with five black horns. This close, she realized it had bone-like protrusions lining its jaw and two on its chin, like rounded spurs. She hadn’t noticed that on the alien himself.
He was actually kind of handsome, in a harsh, alien, definitely-not-human sort of way.
No, handsome isn�
�t the right word. He’s… striking.
His features were put together with enough familiarity that she didn’t think anyone would find him completely foreign and off-putting, once they got over the shock of seeing an extraterrestrial being, but she recognized that she may very well be the only human to say he was outright attractive. That insight made her wonder if physical contact with him had sparked some kind of reaction in her own physiology that was responsible for what she was feeling.
Can’t completely disregard the possibility that my… interest in aliens makes me more susceptible to finding them appealing.
Regardless of the cause, she couldn’t deny she found him magnetically attractive. The ruggedness of his features and the magnitude of his muscles correlated in her mind to virility. Whether that was accurate for his species or not, she didn’t know, but her hind brain was sending a clear message that he was a prime mate candidate.
Interesting. I would’ve assumed that, by virtue of being a different species, sexual attraction wouldn’t be a factor if I ever got the chance to meet an alien. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to be able to run a full work up on him and myself to see if this attraction is quantifiable.
Dismissing that for now, she scooted back on her knees to examine the shape of its arms and chest. To her disappointment, the musculature wasn’t visible since the statue was carved wearing a suit, but she could see that the structure was slightly different than that of humans, as well as being much bigger than she was accustomed to seeing. Yet, even with the bulk it didn’t have that almost unnatural look of bodybuilders. The size looked completely natural, which she thought was due in no small part to its large frame.
Following the arms down to the bare hands, she ran a finger along one of the curved stone claws tipping each of its digits. Its hands were also different from humans’, but the similarities were what struck her. There were five fingers and each sported three joints, though they were thicker and looked to be almost reinforced with a layer of thin muscle.