by Kayla Stonor
A blonde woman sashayed in front of him. He stared at the imprint of a snake-like creature on the blue coin she presented to him. Dread curled in his stomach.
“Take it!” Crandal side-whispered.
Tierc did, watched Ahnna’s eyes widen as the pretense of random pairing became clear. Her glowering gaze shot to Crandal. Whatever impression the producers contrived for the audience, random chance had little to do with contestant pairing. Octiron wanted entertainment and that meant forcing mortal enemies into a close-quarters partnership. Ahnna’s expression closed off as a second blonde bombshell handed a red coin to contestant number three in her line. They gave Ahnna her coin last.
When Suede Harrington released the contestants to find their teammate, squeals of excitement broke out. Ahnna walked over to Tierc, her jaw tight. She silently showed him a red coin with a matching snake. A holovid drone hovered overhead and he nearly sliced it out of the air with his claws. A spike of pain jabbed his wrists, punishing the compulsion to shift and slash his way out of this sick trap.
Ahnna shifted stance for combat, her intense gaze glued to him, watching his every move.
Crandal’s eyes rounded and he swooped in. “You both signed the same contract,” He reminded them—as if a signed agreement could magically stop a HD-X assassin in her tracks.
Ahnna’s eyes dropped to the wide titanium bands molded to Tierc’s wrists. Her lips curled into a smug smile, cold fury morphing to seduction. “Honey, if you want more of the same,” she touched one of his cuffs so no one could mistake her meaning, “you only have to ask.” Tierc inhaled her scent and fought back a confusing flood of loathing and surging desire as Ahnna rose on tiptoe and leaned in, her whisper for his ears only. “Lay a finger on me—if I fucking smell your pheromone assault shit—I’ll slit your throat and die happy.”
* * *
Ahnna had prayed to avoid Tierc Marcel at the GSR Opening Gala, a tortured affair already. Up close, she detected the unique pheromone scent of his Qui. She adjusted position to keep him in her peripheral view. Never let a Qui out of sight. Her training might be the only thing that kept her alive long enough to finish this cursed race.
She looked back towards her teammate and groaned. Despite her effort to disappear into the crowd, Tierc’s brooding gaze tracked her, half-amused, daring her to slit his throat. She stopped as her image sprang up on huge screens dotted throughout the room, her clinging dress adhered to well-defined nipples.
Hell!
Ahnna turned her back to the holovid hovering overhead and murmured, “Excuse me,” as she forced her way to the powder room. She knocked a young man sideways, automatically paused to apologize.
“I’m so sorry,” he said first. His hand steadied her arm. “It’s Ahnna, isn’t it?”
God, was she famous already? Ahnna looked up a gangling lean body to a shock of thick red hair. Kind eyes twinkled at her with genuine warmth, enticing her to smile back. “Yes. Ahnna Sokovik.”
She offered her hand and he grinned.
“Very old-fashioned. They still do that on your Earth?”
“You know about that?”
“I’m Zeke, your holovid operator. I’ll be accompanying you in the race. Not in person, so I’m glad to meet you here. I prefer to work remotely, give the contestants more space.”
“A speech you’ve made before?”
Surprise crinkled his eyes. “How d’you know?”
“Yours is not the first!” Ahnna smiled, liking this Zeke, but then caught Tierc’s scent and cringed as her nipples hardened.
Damn him, he’d slid out of her field of vision. Cold fear spiked in her gut, overriding the seductive desire the damned lizard inspired. She placed her fingers on Zeke’s arm, “I have to go. Nice to meet you though.”
She found the powder room a short walk down the corridor and dived in. Water splashed against her neck and forehead cooled her cheeks, her nanos slow to mitigate her embarrassment. She needed more than nanos and cold water to protect her. Though he hadn’t shifted during their brawl, if not for the Qui-Narc, Tierc would have bested her with ease. He could overpower her anytime. The ShiftLok cuffs prevented his Qui from shooting wings—but his hybrid form still possessed formidable bio-weapons, speed, and strength she couldn’t match. His human skin was nothing but a shell hiding a deadly predator. She had to find a way to get Tierc under control and moderate her body’s insane reaction to his presence.
Her reaction though!
He only had to look at her, move within sniffing distance, and her body melted, primed for sex. Why did Tierc affect only her? The loud woman with that incredible dark blue skin tone from the pairing ceremony—what was her name? Vin! Tonight, Vin had been standing three feet from Tierc, and she hadn’t been affected, too enamored with her long-haired teammate. The female handlers and servers hadn’t shown any reaction to Tierc. Ahnna was the only fool with achingly hard nipples and soaking wet thighs in Tierc’s presence. Vin’s teammate had eyed Ahnna strangely, and then his glance had moved to Tierc, brief amusement lighting his eyes, like he sensed her magnetic attraction to the Qui. God, the humiliation!
She pushed open the door and walked straight into Tierc’s broad chest.
He stepped back, hands raised in surrender as Ahnna hauled air into her lungs to let rip. “I’m not here to fight!” he said quickly.
“What do you want?” She could hardly breathe with the assault of fear and lust washing over her, an emotional train wreck shredding her self-control. She stood on tiptoe in a pathetic attempt to match his height, her hammering heart high on adrenalin.
“We need to talk. Both of us signed the agreement. There’s no going home and we need to work together.”
“None of that changes what you are! I need more space between us. Your scent… you’re not letting me breathe. Can’t you stop this pheromone shit for one minute? Please?”
His face darkened. “I’m not ashamed of what I am, and more to the point, I had no choice in the matter. You and your cult—”
“Human Defense is not a cult! That’s UR propaganda bullshit. We’re a resistance group fighting a war for survival. Our most optimistic projection shows pure human DNA will cease to exist within one hundred years! We’re not going to stand by and let the Qui overwrite our species out of existence.”
“Skal! You spout nonsense. There is no war. Twenty billion humans spread across the galaxy are not about to go extinct, and it’s not like Qui are raping anyone! Your misinformed fanaticism never made sense. It’s nothing but hate and xenophobic rhetoric. You don’t object to mixed race relations!”
“Because we’re all human! At least we were until you sent K’lahn to attack Earth!”
His fists clenched. Anger rolled off him. Ahnna pressed back against the closed door, readying for his imminent assault. He looked at her with suspicion, and his nostril’s widened, taking in her scents like an animal. Fucking reptile.
“The K’lahn invasion—which took place in a different universe—was centuries ago!” he snarled. “Qui, K’lahn, and humanity have been at peace for hundreds of years. The only war is your HD-X jihad bullshit, and that is not propaganda!”
Ahnna shook her head and gritted her teeth, determined to stand her ground. The enemy was a consummate liar, seducing humanity into a gradual DNA blend that would obliterate the human genome in a handful of generations. Qui retained their essential genetic form, their lizard superiority, while humans lost everything that God gave them. Tierc was sooo wrong, and she’d been trained to never engage the enemy in this argument.
Qui were for killing, not circular debates.
Crandal’s abrupt appearance ended their escalating confrontation. Face flushed, their handler looked out of breath. He glared at Tierc. “You move exceptionally fast.”
A muscle in Tierc’s jaw twitched, his blazing eyes still locked on Ahnna, a glow that signified a Qui shift, which meant his tension wasn’t just anger, but a way of combating the ShiftLok cuffs.
Fear g
ripped Ahnna’s throat.
The glow in his eyes faded before he turned to Crandal and Ahnna took in a ragged breath. Tierc’s Qui lurked one provocation away. The ShiftLok held the alien in check, but she should tread carefully. They would be working closely together throughout this race.
Crandal eyed them, his manner suspicious. “Whatever your argument is, this political-religious chasm between the United Regions and Human Defense-X, we’ll find out. The Great Space Race has a way of…” His gaze narrowed on Ahnna. “… encouraging… no… inspiring contestants to reveal their innermost fears and secrets. That’s what fascinates our viewers. People will take sides, and you might want to build a life in Paragon. Think about that.”
* * *
Tierc’s human mother had been a strict vegan, to his father’s vexation. Her horror of consuming anything that had once lived and breathed had obviously rubbed off on Tierc, because the animated delicacies on offer turned him green in a way that required no shifting. In the background, a contestant explained the chef’s specialty items, but Tierc didn’t care if invisible strings, hidden motors, or chemical reactions created the illusion of life. Nothing would persuade him to forget what his eyes had seen.
Ahead of Ahnna, Crandal loaded up his plate.
Ahnna stared at the moving feast. Tierc watched her decide, her eyes round and mildly horrified. “It’s not actually alive.” She reached towards some scuttling crustaceans.
“If there’s any chance of us surviving this race together, don’t… just… don’t.”
Her hand pulled back. “Okay.” She sounded relieved and then giggled, a spurt of nervous amusement she cut off quickly. “Your face.” She looked back. “Do you eat cooked meat?”
It was a valiant effort given the gulf between them and Tierc nodded, began filling his plate with ribs of meat covered in sauce and bread rolls. His stomach rumbled, but his thoughts dwelled on the way Ahnna’s face transformed when she laughed.
No one could deny Ahnna Sokovik’s beauty; wide generous eyes held grey irises streaked with brown, and her silky blonde hair framed a slightly asymmetrical bone structure. He’d seen that beautiful face express hauteur, anger, resentment and hate. A lot of hate. Not to forget boredom, fear, and cunning deceit. Whatever emotion Ahnna conveyed, she always looked stunning, but that moment of amusement had been the most natural, and heart-stopping beautiful.
He accepted Ahnna possessed a seductive hold on him—her scent and his aching cock confirmed her sexual allure—but underneath that cold, xenophobic persona she wielded like a battering ram, Tierc suspected a woman he could have liked. He was grateful for the distraction. This fake gala craziness sucked the will to live from his soul. He wasn’t the only one; a contestant called Armond had psi abilities and a moment of leakage revealed Armond’s patience to be a polite masquerade. Tierc grinned. Armond’s handler was all over him like a stud at auction.
“What?” Ahnna asked.
He lowered his voice. “We’re not the only contestants under duress.”
Her eyes flashed disapproval. “Many applied, but I heard one say he got intercepted by a portal. Why are we forbidden to say anything? Zeke knew about our Earth.”
“Zeke?” Tierc asked.
“Our cameraman. Calls himself a holovid operator.”
Crandal looked around them and leaned in close. “Octiron routinely portals contestants to Primaera from outside Paragon. Central Alliance can’t stop it unless they grant legal rights to non-citizens, and that won’t happen anytime soon. It works out. Contestants are rewarded with a ship home.”
Except they couldn’t go home.
Crandal raised a hand as Ahnna parted tempting scarlet lips. “Don’t say anything more on the subject until the interviews or you’ll breach your contract. We want to give the audience the wow factor, increase your ratings. Win them over to your side. You want folks asking after you down the line. Forces Octiron to honor its contract!”
Crandal worked for Octiron. The wow factor served Octiron’s interests, not theirs.
“What’s the downside?” Tierc asked.
Their handler shrugged. “To higher ratings? Not much. Race tasks can get harder the more you’re known. It depends.”
Octiron’s portal to Earth may have been an accident, a freak connection to another universe, but no one forced Octiron to interfere and pull them in. Presumably, the producer spotted entertainment value—the wow factor—and chose to ignore the peril of messing with a parallel universe.
Octiron could have backed off this extraction.
Ahnna might have killed him.
The poisioning vixen bested him that night. By rights, he should be dead, Ahnna Sokovik facing a murder charge, or worse, she could have slipped the UR forces and be out there now, waging terrorism.
Maybe he should thank Octiron for its craven scheme.
Tierc inhaled Ahnna’s natural scent and fought the urge to bend her over the table, rip off that provocative dress, and fuck her into oblivion.
So sexy and so dangerous. He wanted to shake her.
How could anyone so intelligent and capable be willfully blinded by fanatical doctrine?
The answer had been decades in the making.
Human Defense-X recruited whole families. Generations ruined—terrorists converted in their cots, their world view finely honed both at home and at school. Ahnna was their disposable weapon in a one-sided war.
What a waste.
If he could somehow break through a lifetime of brainwashing, but why bother in a parallel universe where HD-X and Qui didn’t exist? Ahnna wanted nothing to do with him. Even if he did dent her iron-clad beliefs, was it too late for Ahnna Sokovik?
Would he like what he found?
* * *
Ahnna opened a window in her mind and imagined her troubles floating away. Calm replaced fear. The thump of her heart slowed. On set, the interviewer wished the couple ahead of them good fortune.
“Impressive,” Tierc murmured. “What spooked you in the first place?”
He leaned so close, Ahnna shivered. More disturbing, Tierc Marcel had read her bio-rhythms, and then her reassertion of control. She turned her face away from a nearby holovid drone and dropped her voice to a whisper. “Don’t tell them—what you can do.”
He raised questioning eyebrows.
“Xya’s not stupid. If you say something, something that explains your—what I hate about you—she’ll figure out the…” She glanced to his cuffed wrist. “They’ll look to use your unique abilities, maybe even clone you—” She flung her hand out, like spreading Qui seeds on the galactic winds.
“Which you don’t want.” His jaw tightened.
“For obvious reasons. And why haven’t you said anything?”
“Yeah, well, there’s safety in being boring. Not much different from anyone else.”
She nodded. “That’s what I thought. I did you and me both a favor.”
“That wasn’t your intention, and you’re not living with the agony of these cuffs fused to your wrist bones. The only way Xya can remove them is by amputation,” he hissed, his lips against her ear. “Believe me, if I ever get out of these, and I’m not incarcerated in a titanium coffin, you’re the first one I’ll come for. After all, got to start my Qui dynasty somewhere.”
Her self-induced composure cracked, splintered in a creeping web of doubt.
“And now I am thrilled to present our next couple!” announced Suede Harrington. “A wild card literally out of this universe!” He grinned. “No. I mean it! Literally out of this universe! Let’s give a huge Paragon welcome to Tierc and Ahnna!”
Blonde bimbos grabbed their hands and dragged them into the spotlights.
She needed to treat this nightmare as a cover. Act her way through and ignore Tierc’s threat—he’d adhere to the contract that prevented him from harming her during the race. After the race was another matter.
Ahnna found her window again, shoved it wide open, and focused on Harrington’s stubble,
as she stepped carefully onto the polished floor—should have ditched the heels. She sank into the sofa with relief and edged away from Tierc. Any farther and she’d fall off.
Harrington smoothly small-talked to his first question. “And Tierc, you arrived in Paragon naked, and somewhat… compromised?” He snickered.
There was the slightest pause and then Tierc leaned back, more relaxed than Ahnna had seen him. “Harrington, you have to understand, this chick is hot.” His tone matched Harrington’s, loud and brash. Their host’s smile slipped and Ahnna smirked, resentment against Octiron subduing her fear of Tierc. In cover mode, she could manage the unthinkable. Following his lead, she leaned against Tierc and snuck her hand between his thighs, possessive, daring.
“Tierc is so sweet. He was sooo blitzed that night.”
“We got carried away,” Tierc added.
Harrington looked at her. “He sliced up your hand!”
Ahnna displayed her perfectly healed palm to the nearest camera. “That was my fault. But it’s all good. I forgive him.”
“Cut!”
The director leapt on stage. Crandal rushed out from the side.
Ahnna drew back from Tierc.
Harrington was on his feet, cussing and spitting. “These two are not mortal enemies! You said they were ready to slit throats!”
“They are…” the director soothed. “Crandal’s talking to them now.”
“They’re drowning me in saccharine! Where’s the larfing drama?”
Standing behind their sofa, Crandal leaned in between Tierc and Ahnna. “Whatever you think you’re doing, stop it,” he said quietly. “You don’t want to piss off the producer! Contestants die in this race. Give the audience reason to watch you. You could be the most dramatic pair in the history of GSR productions, use it to your advantage. Stop pretending and show us how you really feel about each other!”
“You want us to fight?” Tierc checked. “You wrote the contract—”
“Not physically. You’re not allowed to harm each other. Broadcasting license is firm on that, but you can hate each other. At the start, you must hate each other. Moments ago you looked ready for a death match!”