Protector: A Scifi Alien Romance

by Anna Hackett

  “That’s blackmail!”

  He liked seeing the color rising in her cheeks. “Your point?”

  “Difficult man,” she snapped.

  “I’m not, really. My mother always said I was a charming boy.”

  “She was clearly biased. Mothers always think their sons can do no wrong.” Now sadness crossed her face, and he knew she was thinking of her son.

  “Madeline.” He reached a hand out to her.

  “I’m fine. Look—” Suddenly she cried out, wrapping an arm across her stomach. Pain twisted her features.

  He’d seen hints that she was in pain the night before, too, but he’d let her brush it off. Not this time.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Her face had gone pale.

  “That’s it. I’m taking you to Medical.”

  “I’m fine. I’m not going to Medical.”

  “Madeline—”

  “No.” She shook her head, a wobble in her voice. “I don’t want any more poking and prodding. They checked me over when I arrived and gave me a clean bill of health.” She straightened. “I’m fine, just worried about Blaine.” She pulled in a long breath. “I’ll help you with your show.” The words came out in a rush.

  Lore felt a shot of satisfaction. “You might just enjoy yourself.”

  “I doubt it,” she said, bad-temperedly.

  “I’ll send an outfit to your room.”

  Her eyes widened. “Outfit?”

  “It’s all part of the show, Madeline. We have to set the scene. It’s all part of getting the information we need from Vashto and Cerria.”

  She muttered under her breath. “Fine.” She started to turn away.

  He grabbed her arm. “You’ll watch me fight tonight?”

  “I’ll be there. I’ll be watching everyone.”

  He leaned in close, getting a hint of whatever scent she’d rubbed on her skin. It wasn’t flowers, something deeper and muskier that once again made him believe that there was heat buried in Madeline Cochran.

  “I think you’re lying, dushla.” This close to her, he sensed the rising warmth on her skin. It was a neat little skill common to the males of his species.

  “You’ve called me that before. What’s it mean?” She kept her tone brisk and he knew she was trying to change the subject.

  “It means little fire.” He tugged on her hair. “I think you’ll be watching me. You like watching me.”

  Her blue eyes sparked. “You are so arrogant. And I should know—I’ve been dealing with arrogant men my entire life.”

  “My mother accused me of overconfidence as well.”

  “She knows you well.”

  Lore felt a slashing pain. “She did. Before she was killed.”

  Madeline fell silent. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s hard to lose those you love.”

  Her lips pressed together. “Do you have a child?”

  “No.”

  “The pain of losing a child is unimaginable.” She took a step back. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  She turned to walk away, the subtle sway of her hips under her tunic and trousers drawing his gaze. She had delicious curves that she preferred to hide, rather than showcase.

  Lore wanted to follow her. He wanted to pull her in close and hold her. Soothe her.

  But just like that pet lizard he’d had, he knew that in this moment, she’d scratch and bite.

  He needed more patience. He turned his gaze to a sky that was turning from pale blue to dark purple as the suns set. And more determination.

  He smiled to himself. His mother had always accused him of being stubborn, too.

  Chapter Three

  Madeline sat in the stands, her hands twisted together in her lap. Her eyes were glued to the arena below. She was gobsmacked.

  She’d attended a few arena fights in the last few weeks. She’d watched sword clash against sword, and blood splatter the sand.

  But this spectacle wasn’t like anything she’d ever seen before. All around her, the tiers of stone seats of the massive arena were packed with screaming spectators.

  Down below, the arena floor had been transformed. It was filled with water, with flat-bottomed boats floating on them. The boats were made of a dark, black wood with sharp, reinforced prows for ramming other boats. A few had masts with white sails flapping in the wind. Expectant energy throbbed off the crowd.

  They were waiting for the gladiators to appear.

  “They use a mix of holographic technology and real-life objects to change the arena,” Regan said from beside Madeline. The other woman was popping some sort of popcorn-like snack into her mouth.

  “It’s incredible.” God, Jack would love this. Her son was as obsessed by history as he was by space.

  “The boats have hidden engines,” Rory added from Madeline’s other side. “I got to do some maintenance work on them. The sails are for show.”

  Somewhere, high above them, some of the crowd started to stomp their feet. Madeline saw movement on the other side of the arena.

  The rival gladiators appeared. They swam out of a flooded tunnel, with powerful strokes of their arms.

  “The House of Man’u,” Galen said from behind Madeline. He was sitting quietly, his big body somehow relaxed, but at the same time, filled with tension. Madeline was pretty sure the imperator would leap into action in an instant if required. She wondered what he’d been like in the arena.

  The gladiators climbed aboard the nearest boats and she turned her attention back to them. She saw the Man’u had very pale skin that had a rainbow-colored sheen to it, and ridges on their faces. But any prettiness from their skin was balanced out by the hard muscles beneath it and their silver-blue armor.

  Now everyone was just waiting for the House of Galen gladiators to arrive.

  She leaned back toward Galen. “Where are the couple you invited?”

  Galen subtly moved his head. “Up in a private box I organized for them.”

  She glanced at the railings of the private boxes higher in the stands. The House of Galen seats were closest to the arena floor.

  Then a hush fell over the crowd. People were turning around and looking up toward the top of the stands. Madeline twisted, Rory and Regan doing the same.

  A single tall gladiator stood at the top of the arena. Even though his powerful body was covered in sleek, fish-scale armor that left his muscled abdomen bare and he wore a beaten-metal helmet, she knew instantly it was Lore. Something deep inside her just seemed attuned to him.

  He raised one arm and whispers raced through the crowd.

  He tossed something into the air.

  Silver-and-red smoke exploded outward. The crowd screamed in delight, and the smoke twisted and turned. In it, Madeline caught glimpses of things: giant fish, sea serpents, alien sharks. The smoke shifted shape and took on the form of a giant, many-tentacled creature, like a kraken of myth. It launched itself over the arena, and then exploded outward before dissipating.

  The crowd went wild.

  In the next instant, the House of Galen gladiators strode out of a doorway at the top of the arena. They walked down the stairs with powerful strides, weapons in hand. Raiden and Harper led the way. Raiden’s tattoos gleamed, his red cloak flaring behind him. Harper wore the same fish scale armor over her arms and was also wearing a red cloak that matched Raiden’s. They looked magnificent.

  Right behind them were Kace and Saff—the military-trained gladiator standing tall with his staff and the strong, elegant Saff smiling from beside him. Big Thorin and a new recruit that Madeline didn’t recognize were next. And bringing up the rear were Nero and Lore.

  They sure made an impact. Madeline couldn’t help but stare, their strength and power radiating off them.

  Of course, her gaze went to Lore. He’d rubbed oil over his skin where it showed between the sections of armor, and it gleamed under the arena lights.

  As they walked past the House of Galen seats, big Thorin stopped and swept Regan into
his arms for a deep kiss. The crowd cheered and whistled.

  Rory waggled her fingers at Kace, one hand pressed to her belly. A small smile crossed the gladiator’s face.

  “Going to give me a kiss? For luck?”

  Lore’s sexy voice drawled in Madeline’s ear, and she glanced up to see him right beside her seat. He looked even better up close. Most of his face was covered by the helmet, but his silver-gray eyes glinted through the eye slits. And his heavily-ridged stomach was right at her eye level. A trickle of traitorous heat curled in her belly. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been attracted to a man. Damn hormones.

  “I don’t think you need it,” she told him.

  He smiled. “But I’d sure enjoy it.” He reached out and touched the shell of her ear. When he pulled his hand back, he was holding a shiny coin with the symbol of the House of Galen—a helmeted gladiator in profile—engraved on it. He handed it to her.

  She took the coin, their fingers brushing. Then with a wink, he was gone.

  When the gladiators reached the railing, they climbed up and dived into the water below. Heart hammering, the noise of the crowd in her ears, she watched them slice through the water toward their boats.

  She watched as Lore strode across the deck of his boat, his sword in hand. Engines rumbled to life, a loud growl that echoed through the air.

  A long, mournful siren rang out across the arena. The fight had begun.

  The boats moved much faster than she’d anticipated. She watched Raiden and Harper’s boat cut through the water and slam into the side of a House of Man’u boat. Seconds later, Raiden leaped across the gap between the boats and engaged the gladiators. Swords crashed against swords.

  Madeline found her pulse tripping, and she leaned forward.

  She watched Lore and Nero racing across the water, chasing a Man’u boat. Then, a hidden Man’u gladiator appeared from out of the water, climbing stealthily aboard Lore’s craft. The opponent hefted a giant axe.

  God. Her fingers tightened on the coin. Lore, turn around.

  The gladiator crept forward, but at the last second, Lore turned and struck with his sword. Blood bloomed on the Man’u gladiator’s shoulder, and then he and Lore were locked in a vicious fight.

  She watched as Lore forced the other gladiator back. There was no ease or charm on Lore’s face now—it was all hard-set lines of concentration.

  The Man’u gladiator hit the side of the boat and teetered there. Lore lifted a boot, planted it in the man’s gut, and tipped him overboard. He landed in the water with a splash.

  Yes. Madeline raised her voice to cheer with the crowd.

  “Addictive, isn’t it?”

  She glanced at Rory and gave a small nod. Beside her, Regan’s face was flushed with excitement, her gaze glued to Thorin, who was currently roaring fiercely, and using his axe to chop down the mast of a Man’u boat.

  Madeline turned back, her belly alive with flutters that had nothing to do with anxiety or food disagreeing with her. She watched Lore climb up the mast on his boat with a powerful flex of arms and legs. He paused at the top, waving to the crowd, before he touched his belt. A moment later, he threw something into the air.

  Fireworks rocketed upward, and burst high above the crowd in a shower of brilliant colors.

  As Nero steered the boat, it came close to another of the opponent’s boats. She watched as Lore grabbed a rope tied to the mast. He pushed off and swung across the gap from one boat to the other. The crowd gasped, and so did Madeline.

  He landed on the deck of the other boat in a crouch, and then he was up, attacking the nearest Man’u.

  Madeline swallowed, excitement flooding her. Lore looked like a dashing pirate. She watched him fight, knocking one gladiator into the water and slashing another one across the chest. For all his charm and showiness, he was a hell of a fighter. It was easy to forget that his lean muscles were honed to precision by all of the fighting, and that he was seriously experienced with his sword.

  The minutes raced by, boats cutting across the water, sword striking sword. Lore jerked back suddenly, a line of red appearing on his belly, and she winced, her mouth going dry. But the cut didn’t appear to slow him down. He’s done this a thousand times, Madeline.

  Then the crowd erupted with shouts and cries, and she blinked. It was over already? She scanned the boats. All of the House of Man’u gladiators were down and defeated.

  The House of Galen gladiators all swung across to one boat, and, standing together, raised their fists into the air. The cheering from their fans was deafening.

  As the announcers declared the House of Galen the winners, the crowd made even more noise. Madeline smiled. And then she gave a small start. She couldn’t remember the last time she smiled, or even felt this much excitement coursing through her.

  Right at this moment, she wasn’t thinking about herself or her problems.

  Suddenly, she saw Lore grab another rope again. He pushed off from the boat, swinging directly toward the House of Galen seats.

  Her heart knocked against her chest. He landed on the railing right in front of her.

  Regan jumped up and pecked his cheek. “Nice fight.”

  Rory leaned over and smacked a hand against his flank. “Good one, Lore.”

  But Lore was staring at Madeline. With one hand still holding the rope, he used the other to yank off his helmet. His tawny hair was damp and his eyes were glittering.

  He didn’t say a word, but she heard his silent dare louder than if he’d shouted it at her.

  She told herself to stay seated, but instead, she stood and took a step toward him.

  He used his free arm to sweep her against his chest. He smelled of heat, sweat and blood, and when he bent her over his arm, like some romance hero, excitement flared.

  Around them, the crowd’s cheers echoed off the ancient stone of the arena. Then he leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers, and there was only Lore.

  His tongue swept into her mouth, hot and hungry. Madeline felt like she’d been hit by an electric shock or a tsunami. She moaned and kissed him back.

  But his mouth took complete and utter ownership of hers. He kissed with an untamed power that rocked her, like she was being consumed.

  Heat flooded her. It was so hot and shocking, so much feeling coursing through her. She hadn’t realized her life had been so cold and lacking, until she felt the heat of Lore wrap around her.

  He pulled back, and all she could do was look up at him, stunned. She felt the blood he’d smeared on her clothes and knew that should horrify her, but it didn’t.

  He touched her cheek, that single touch searing, then he smiled and let her go. Before her brain cells even started firing again, he’d gripped the rope and swung back to his friends.

  ***

  Madeline couldn’t believe she’d agreed to this stupid idea. Or this stupid dress.

  She hurried out of her room and through the corridors. It would take her a few minutes to get from the House of Galen back up to the rooms where the after party was being held.

  After the sea battle had ended, the gladiators had all headed out to bathe and change. Her lips still burning from that kiss, Madeline had made her way straight to the party room to lose herself in some work. She’d helped hang decorations, triple-checked everything was okay with the food and drinks, and checked in with the dancers she’d hired from the District with the help of Galen’s very efficient staff. His people had been suspicious of her at first, but now, she had a good working relationship going with them.

  Everything was perfect for the party, and the guests would be arriving soon.

  She’d squeezed out a few minutes for herself to shower and change. When she’d arrived back at her room, her outfit from Lore had arrived and been laid out on her bed. She sniffed. She wasn’t thinking about this sorry excuse for a dress she had on. Right now, she needed to focus on the party. She needed everything to go off without a hitch. Blaine’s life depended on it.

&
nbsp; Her stomach gave an uncomfortable grind and she grimaced. Anxiety. That was all. She’d never thought she’d miss antacids.

  She strode into the party room. Walls of glass gave a perfect view of the arena below which was still filled with water, the now-empty boats resting on the glassy surface. The night sky was filled with stars, and since the moon had yet to rise, she could just make out a faint, pink-hued nebula to the east.

  Turning, she focused on the room. She’d gone for a water theme in honor of the mock sea battle. Ribbons of silvery-blue fell from the ceiling, and elegant, twisted, blue glass art pieces were dotted around the room. They almost looked like ice, and each time she looked at them, she saw different shapes: slender women, elegant spinning dancers, entwined lovers. Across the room, the servers were setting out food on long tables.

  The pièce de résistance was on the back wall. A large tank of water was filled with long-haired women who were dancing through the water like mermaids, their hair flowing out behind them. Their long, sinuous bodies were covered in tiny, glittery outfits. The women were water dancers she’d borrowed from the Dark Nebula Casino. They were an alien species who could breathe under water. Madeline had to admit, they looked pretty impressive.

  A sharp, appreciative whistle cut through the room, and she turned. Harper, Regan, and Rory were striding toward her.

  “The place looks amazing.” Rory’s gaze skated down Madeline. “And so do you, Mads.”

  Madeline ran a hand down the dress. “Uh, Lore demanded I wear it.” The slip of fabric looked like liquid water. It caught the light, reflecting it back and was the same blue as her eyes. It clung to every curve and had two high slits that left her feeling bare, but at least it felt incredibly soft when she moved.

  “Lore, huh?” Rory shot her a wide grin.

  Madeline’s stomach started up that all-too-familiar churn. “It’s not like that. I know all of you have lost your heads over alien gladiators, but not me. This isn’t my life.”

  “There’s no way home, Madeline,” Regan said quietly. “This is our life, now.”

  “There’s no way back to Earth that we know of yet. I’m not ready to give up.” She couldn’t give up on Jack.