Intimidator

by Cari Silverwood

  Seemed even Bak-lal hated having their eyes on fire. He released her, dropped the gun, and toppled off the pile of men, screeching, with his hands scrabbling at his face.

  The small success stunned her for one millisecond then she went ballistic on the pile.

  Slap their faces and burn them. The growling ones that turned to get her were the first to go.

  Burn, she hissed into their blank faces.

  The only drawback: she had to touch them to do it. Dirty, disgusting work. Bad. And every one she hurt, they seemed people somehow, it made her shudder inside. I’m weak.

  Horrifying, but it worked. She lost a few layers of her soul, but she didn’t stop. She kept going, she burned them, and she freed him.

  The room filled with writhing men clutching at their burning eyes. The Preyfinders picked them off. The battle rolled on. Bullets spat. Stom dragged himself to his feet and swept her off to the side, one blood-smeared arm dangling at his side. Then he enfolded her in his coat.

  Ally.

  There she was, where she’d last been, only with Kasper straddling her. The drill was in his hand, poised above, ready it seemed, to be driven into her skull.

  No. Frantic she tried to leap toward her.

  But Stom fought her. He held her tighter, wrapped the coat around her more.

  “No, Willow, no. You can’t. There’re more bullets than oxygen out there. No.”

  He was gasping for breath and fresh blood welled from the side of his neck.

  Watching Ally die was going to etch itself into her memories, but this time, because she knew it might be the last thing she could do for her, to honor her life, she watched. Despite wanting to reach out and drag her to safety and not being able to do a damn thing, she watched.

  Ally’s hand shot up, fingers splayed, and Kasper froze. What happened next was inexplicable. Impossible. She rewound what she’d seen.

  Men were struggling, falling, and partly obscuring her view. There was a series of bangs as one huge Preyfinder leveled his weapon and emptied it into Kasper. He slumped to the floor, coughing out his last breath.

  That part was good.

  Except Ally was gone.

  “Where is she? Stom? Ally’s vanished! Where can she be?”

  “Don’t know.” He slid down the wall, taking her with him and she pressed her hand on the neck wound, his blood welling through her fingers, her pulse hammering at her. If he died after this…

  “Don’t you die on me again, Stom, you bastard. Don’t you dare!”

  A whistle made her whip her head around, teeth bared, ready to turn into a crispy thing anyone who dared threaten her mate. A Preyfinder advanced on them.

  “I’m Brask, Willow. I’m his friend.” He ducked his head and peered at Stom. “You be good, man. We already spent a year’s revenue on you. You owe us.”

  “Will he be okay?” She sniffed and looked from her man to Brask and back.

  “Sure I will.” Stom spat blood to one side. “Fine. I am. I’m definitely fine.”

  Behind Brask the fighting sounds had petered out to nothing.

  “Yeah, he’ll be okay. I have his read-outs. He’s wired up and scanned. Neck wound’s bleeding, that’s all.” Brask grinned. “We can rebuild him. Make him better than he was.”

  She scowled. “That’s an ancient movie quote, isn’t it?” Sick man. Aliens apparently equaled a bad sense of humor.

  Relief washed in. She swayed on her knees, still perplexed. Where was Ally?

  “You need to find my cousin, Brask. Please. She’s gone. She was here.”

  “I know.” He tapped his ear. “The drone above. The orbiting scan even. She disappeared from both. I have no idea where to. Here. Last image from Rimill. He’s the one who shot your big bad guy. Kaper?”

  “Kasper,” she whispered. A video played out in the air in front of her. It looked taken from the side, perhaps down the sights of a gun. Ally, eyes wide open, hand outstretched, staring at Kasper, who didn’t move. He was stuck in position, ready to kill her with that drill.

  Then the gun must have fired because the image blurred a little. Kasper died, with holes appearing in his neck, side, head. And Ally…she was there, and then, she was not.

  Something was left hanging in the air. The glimmer of metal? Tiny metal confetti rained down. When this Rimill moved in closer and, with his boot, tossed aside Kasper, she saw the confetti had settled on the floor in the shape of Ally’s limbs.

  “What’s that?” she asked Brask.

  “The residue on the floor? Not sure yet. Seems possibly infectious, even possibly alive. It’s moving. My men have sampled it and we’ve fried the rest and bottled it too. I don’t know what it is, except it’s not a normal part of a human.”

  She lowered her pointing hand, and thought for a moment. Ally had seemed more awake than before. “Nerve chewers,” she said quietly.

  “What? What are they?” He leaned in. “Tell me.”

  “They’re something your enemies are using to take over our heads. I think she’s spat them out somehow. Rejected them. I think. I hope.” Ally had kept their house safe for over ten years and she’d not suspected. What else could the girl do? Lots, she prayed. “And also…I don’t know because this is a crazy idea, but then all of this is crazy.” She heaved in a big breath. “I think she managed to escape somehow.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She’s gone somewhere, and don’t ask me where. Just, somewhere.”

  “We’ll keep that in mind.”

  He didn’t believe her. Maybe she was wrong but she didn’t want to lose hope. Not now. A caress of her cheek made her turn her head into Stom’s hand. She kissed his palm.

  “You stay still, mister. Be good or else.”

  He chuckled and whispered. “Wait until I’m healthy, woman.”

  “I will. Soon, that better be. Soon.” Willow snuggled into him.

  The medics arrived to haul out Stom and patch him up and she went with them, hearing sirens in the distance and wondering how the Preyfinders were going to get out of this mess.

  When they walked out, she saw the smoke pouring from a small fire in the house. There were holes in some of the adjacent houses. Bodies everywhere. Standing a few hundred yards back were people filming with phones. People would know now, wouldn’t they? Half the damn city would know. Did it matter anymore? Seemed like the world was about to fall apart. Maybe these guys, for all their superior alien crap, needed some human help after all?

  Whatever. She climbed into the open side door on the super duper shiny spaceship craft that settled on the lawn, sat down next to Stom with Brask opposite. A car loaded with men swerved into the driveway and men, obviously Bak-lal, spewed out, guns bristling.

  “Lethal force approved,” Brask muttered.

  A pink ray blasted down from somewhere above, blatting the car into a flat, melted mess and sizzling every Bak-lal into a charred lump that smoked.

  Her mouth dropped open. Pink?

  “You in a mood?” Stom drawled.

  “I’m tired. Besides, it needed doing, and I think we’ve already lost the ‘pretend we’re not here’ option.” Brask nodded, grimacing a little. “And it made me happy.”

  “There is that.” He settled back into his padded seat and closed his eyes.

  Worried, Willow observed him for a while. He was so pale, and different without his stripes. The medics had fixed the wound and pumped drugs into him. She sneaked her hand under his and nestled up to his side, happy when he tightened his hold on her for a moment.

  “You’re concerned about Ally?” he murmured, eyes still closed.

  “Yes.”

  “You’re close. Like you and I are. Ever think that if there was something wrong with her, you’d know?”

  She thought that through. “Maybe. I’d like to think she’s somewhere safe. Whatever she did it was considered impossible up to now. I think maybe she’s tougher than I ever thought she could be.”

  “Then I think we shou
ld believe she’s okay unless we find it’s otherwise. Brask is going to mount a big search for her. So let’s hang onto that hope. You, me. Okay?”

  She smiled up at him. “Sure. Thank you.”

  “Mmm. I’m going to sleep now.”

  “Okay,” she whispered. He needed to. He might be big and bad and one mean alien warrior but right now, he needed rest.

  The engines hummed.

  Down below someone waved to her, so she waved back at the poor humans as they took off. She had escaped that horror. How in the hell had she managed that? The trembling began but she strained and kept it to a minimum by remembering that she had Stom back. He was next to her, again. Hers, again. Warm, real, solid. Right now wasn’t the time for breaking apart.

  Gently, so as not to disturb him, she lay across his lap with her arm across his thighs, and shut her eyes. Now, all was quiet. This intimacy, she required it to survive as much as she did blood in her veins.

  “Hey there,” he whispered, fingering her ear and hair.

  “Thank you.” She hugged his legs.

  “For what?”

  For rescuing her. For coming when she needed him even though she’d stuffed up and almost gotten him killed. For being someone she could hold onto. By the time she’d gone through all that he was snoring but she said it anyway, smiling a little. “For being you.”

  One thought stayed with her all the way to the Preyfinder base: If only Ally were here.

  Chapter 23

  Willow sat beside Stom with her legs dangling over the edge. Water lapped at her toes. The glasslike half-dome pool with the up-lights was a few feet below but every now and then she felt as if she was in danger of falling straight out into space. Earth bobbed out there. The lower half of the globe was seemingly submerged in the blue pool, the rest floating in space.

  Awestruck yet again, she bumped Stom with her shoulder. “This is so beautiful.”

  “Tenth time you’ve said that.”

  “So? It’s true.”

  “Yes. I agree. It is.”

  She could see the small smile creep onto his mouth and ventured to ask, “You don’t mind being stuck here with me? Having to be near Earth?”

  The way he looked at her made her blush – studying her face for a few precious seconds before lowering his eyes to her breasts then even lower. They were both naked.

  He raised a brow. “No.”

  The only answer to that was to roll her eyes, but she put her hand on his thigh. When he laced his fingers into hers, she angled her head and studied their hands. Next to their hands, his cock was rising.

  “Whatever is that?” she asked in a horrified tone.

  “Hmm. No idea, woman but it’s all your fault.”

  She laughed. They’d had sex in the pool only twenty minutes before. She looked back at Earth. “Stom. When are we going back down? To the surface?”

  “Soon. I asked Brask. They’re letting me heal a bit more before reinstating me as a Preyfinder.”

  His stripes were slowly returning. The one curling under his nipple tempted her to follow it with her tongue. “Is there any news of Ally?”

  “No, none as yet, but the Australian government is helping us now. If she’s still on that continent, we’ll find her eventually. Brask told me that Rimill has been keenly interested in finding her.”

  Cautious, she only said, “Oh?”

  He stayed silent so she nudged him.

  “Got a question for me, pretty girl?”

  “Damn, you’re trying to exasperate me!”

  “No idea what that word means.” He grinned.

  They’d talked about how he and her had connected and also Jadd and Brittany. There seemed an innate attraction that had kicked in far too early for it to be the pet nano-chem. Something odd was happening and pairing up Earth women with specific alien men. Something that, perhaps, also brought out the women’s powers.

  “Do you think he’s like us…and that it means she’s still alive?” Now that would be the best.

  Stom looked out into space a while. His feet stirred the pool water. “Yes. I do, but don’t get your hopes up too much.”

  Then she wouldn’t tell him how the news had her heart leaping about like a baby deer in spring. “I won’t.”

  “Liar.”

  She chuckled and leaned in, thinking about nipping his nipple. His hand whipped out from her grasp and grabbed her hair.

  “Do not unless you want a spanking.”

  “That’s supposed to stop me?”

  The growl in his chest made her shiver.

  But he let her go and climbed to his feet. Then he held out his hand and drew her up. “Stand there beside the bed.”

  Despite her pointed look of puzzlement, he left the room.

  The dim lighting and the proliferation of tropical plants on the walls and in pots on the floor, gave this whole room the atmosphere of a lush jungle. Deliberate perhaps. This World room on the orbital platform was meant as a special treat to the men and women resting from their duties on Earth.

  She’d been wondering all day if Stom was up to something and he returned carrying a tray that he set down on the quilt of the huge square bed. She followed his every move. The man had a body that dominated wherever he walked. The flow of his muscles made her want to worship all of him, to tell him to walk around some more so she could see his ass.

  He had some plan. She frowned.

  On the tray was a paint brush with a tube feeding into the back of it as well as various pots of sealed color.

  “You’re to stay still, even if I tickle you. I’m going to take off your collar but I’ll put it back on afterward. You’ll never not be my pet, gorgeous one, but this is different.”

  That had her going hmm and sucking in her lower lip “Okay. What are you going to do?”

  “Shh.” He unlocked her collar and put it aside then picked up the brush and plugged it into a pot of red. “My color goes on first.”

  The first brush stroke began on her neck. She watched as he applied fine whorls and lines and dots of paint to her body. Stom had never seemed an artist. He built up the design, color by color. The tip of the brush did tickle her when he swirled around her red nipples and across her belly but she bit her lip and stayed still and silent. The lights hidden among the plants on the walls washed over her and made her gleam where the paint stayed wet.

  He paused a moment and his lips curved upward at one corner. “This will make you mine.”

  She’d thought she already was. Her thoughts must have showed.

  “I’ll explain when I’m done.” The understanding crinkle around his eyes endeared him to her yet again. Then he continued painting her, adding gold and a luminescent pink.

  He was quiet and gentle, and dedicated to this, so she turned when he asked and smiled at the serious way a little crease appeared on his brow while he worked. When the brush strayed onto her sex and stayed there while he did minute strokes, before moving on to embellish her inner thighs, her breaths deepened.

  And when he dabbed her clit with a swirl of orange, she squeaked. “Bad man.”

  “I am, aren’t I? I want to lick you there but it would spoil the design.”

  Damn. But she stood straighter. He continued around to her ass then down her legs.

  When at last he straightened and stood back, admiring her, she merely smiled and waited.

  “Turn.” He circled his finger and she obediently turned.

  “Am I done?”

  “Yes. You, are so, so beautiful.”

  Aww. When he said that she wanted to hug him. “What does it mean?”

  “It’s the Feya way when two bond mates take the final step. It’s our way of affirming our love for each other. Now you.” He handed her the brush.

  Love? She almost squealed at that.

  “But…” She eyed his naked body, thinking of how she might violate some ancient painting tradition if she slipped. Was there a template? A drawing? “I don’t know how to do it.”
<
br />   “There is no proper way. Every couple is different. Paint me as you wish to.”

  “Oh. Is it permanent?”

  “No, it will wash off over a few days.”

  She took the brush and thought. Then she began with his chest and, like he had, she drew many designs. When she looked askance of him after the first daisy below his nipple, he smiled. With more confidence she continued, each addition built on the idea that in doing this she was claiming him, as he had claimed her.

  When she too stepped away, there was almost no surface over which she had not run her brush. Stom was warrior red and orange with his muscles delineated and emphasized. A dark blue made small pretty shading in places. She adored his masculine beauty. His strength, his confidence, his willingness to devote himself utterly when it was needed, this too was a true part of him she valued dearly. The Feya stripes she had reinforced and darkened with more black and gray, because they meant Stom to her. There was only one place left she hadn’t done, so she knelt before him and eyed his cock, quirked her brow. “May I?”

  “Yes.” He touched her hair, moving away a few strands that had fallen over her nose. “If you wish. The paint is safe.”

  “Ahh.” Emboldened, she carefully painted a blue and red helix design on his cock, pleased to see how it rose more and more erect as she worked. By the time she was done, Stom had a supreme erection she figured might rival the Eiffel Tower, and she had a peculiar feeling of lightness, as if she might float off the floor. She stood and put aside the brush, then walked around him once, admiring her alien lover.

  “Come.” Stom beckoned to her and, without him voicing it, she knew what she should do. She let him pick her up and, when she felt him in the right place, she sank down on him, watching his face, marveling.

  When at last, he was deep inside, Stom sighed.

  They kissed as if each were some delicate thing that might be crushed, and ascended toward orgasm slowly, panting, but with minimal noises. She rode him up and down, appreciating every inch of him, absorbed in the sensations, biting his neck then moaning when he in turn bit hers. When she came, gasping softly, he did also. It was simple and quiet and a reaffirming of who they were to each other. The thump at her temples lessened and she realized her breathing had synchronized with his.