“Rule number one,” the guard explained as they turned to the right and followed an open hallway, “this prison runs on a twenty-four-hour diurnal cycle. Lights are out for the sleep cycle. If this is not your natural cycle, then learn to live with it, it is not changing. You are fed three times per diurnal cycle and in order to receive nourishment you need to show up at the mess hall. If you don’t get there in time to eat, you starve.”
The guard walked back and aligned himself with her. He leaned in close. Close enough that she could smell his hot, stale breath. She swallowed hard, trying to keep that bile down. “There are no other females on 149 right now. You are the only one,” he told her. “The guards have bets on how long you’ll live before the gang rape starts and you bleed out and die. The last female incarcerated here died after two diurnal cycles.” He looked her up and down. “But you seem strong and bold. If you stay alive for three cycles, I will win the first round of bets. The payout is very high. If I win, I’ll bring you a reward.” He smiled grimly.
Her mouth dropped open. This place sounded like that survivalist show everyone loved on the black-market vid, Naked and Afraid: Planet Zero. But, like, ten thousand times worse.
Another growl rumbled in Syrin’s chest.
The guard frowned at the Xylan, then stood upright, all business again. They’d stopped in front of a cell with its door wide open. “Step inside,” the guard ordered, his voice crisp. “I will release your restraints once you are behind the line.”
Sara stepped into the tiny cell alongside Syrin, her skin cold and clammy. A giant stone now seemed to be lodged not only in her stomach but stuck in her throat, too.
The guard’s fingers flew over a string of lights and buttons on the band on his forearm. A bright blue, webbed wall of energy suddenly covered the entrance to the cell. The restraining bands on both her and the Xylan’s wrists disappeared. She rubbed her skin, happy for the freedom.
She glanced warily over at the giant, hard-muscled inmate standing next to her. The male who had supposedly slaughtered over one hundred beings.
He stood there, looking deceptively nice.
Sara’s plan for prison survival was: 1) examine the security system to find weaknesses and a possibility of escape, and 2) find a protector immediately. Find someone who was a scary bastard but somehow still wasn’t as evil as the other inmates—if such a thing existed.
This pretty much consisted her entire plan for survival. Not much, but it was all she had up her sleeve. She’d been prepared to give her body, her virginity to the being that promised to keep her safe. The whole thing sounded horrific, and extremely painful, giving her virginity to some male (of unknown species) she knew she’d despise, but Sara was a pragmatist—prison was going to be living hell and just managing to stay alive month after month, day after day—that would be a win. If she had to rut with some evil, disgusting male in order to live another day, she’d do that. Whatever it took. Grin and bear it.
She’d survived her childhood. Survived the Hurlian war. Got out of a forced marriage and escaped her home planet. She’d even learned a whole new skill set, hacking high-tech security, and had been well on her way towards becoming the best at what she did, all in one year post escape. If she’d done that, she could do this, too.
She’d survive this prison and break the fuck out of here.
One step at a time.
She glanced again at the Xylan and decided the scary inmate she knew was better than all the ones she didn’t. Really, any inmate she shared a cell with in this facility could turn on her and kill her at any moment. Just because Syrin was a berserker didn’t make him more dangerous to her than any other male in this prison. In fact, because he was Xylan, he might be her best bet.
She took a deep breath and said what needed to be said. “I want you as my protector,” she declared.
“No.”
His smooth voice caused a flutter in her stomach.
The berserker continued to stare straight ahead, studiously ignoring her. A muscle ticked in his jaw.
She’d watched a reality show once that followed a Xylan berserker until the last episode, when he was hunted and gunned down by the Xylan Military. Berserkers happened rarely amongst a few of the main species in the four sectors, but Xylan berserkers were the most feared because they caused the most damage. Berserkers lost their minds when angered and killed everyone within reach. Babies. Loved ones. Rulers. Villains. Whoever was near and breathing, they were dead and it was a disgusting mess because they were slaughtered, by hand, torn limb from limb. Dismembered. And the worst part was that berserkers remembered everything they did later but were unable to stop themselves while it was happening.
Sara sucked in a breath and lifted her chin. She was so used to hearing the word no, it was nothing to her. It was the first answer she always got for anything she wanted. “I need a protector and you’re the one I’ve chosen.”
She’d learned long ago that bullies thrived on seeing her broken and crying. Weakness only led to more violence. Her bravado kept them at bay. Sara pulled from that same well of strength right now. Pulled out the persona that had fought off her cousins. Fought off the other men on New Earth and their unwanted advances. Made it clear with the group she’d worked with that she didn’t want to share any man’s bed. The more outrageous and prickly she’d behaved, the less the males bothered her, and the more she got her own way.
This mostly worked for her, and then sometimes, as in the case with the guard earlier, occasionally it worked against her.
The Xylan shook his head and repeated the only word that appeared to be in his vocabulary: “No.”
“Being on my own, without a protector, will get me killed in here,” she stated.
He turned his head and looked at her directly. Those golden-hazel eyes staring at her with full attention. “Female, they’ve placed you in my cell because they think I’ll kill you. Seeking my loyalty will not keep you safe.”
She shivered. Literally had to force herself to keep her face blank and her body still. His voice was liquid gold. Dark and sexy.
What was wrong with her? Shouldn’t her attraction for this male have shut down the moment she learned he was a berserker? Apparently not.
Did she find killers attractive?
Holy gods, please say it wasn’t so!
“Are they right?” she asked. “Are you going to kill me?”
He shrugged his impossibly massive shoulders. “Maybe.”
She sucked in a sharp breath. Maybe? Not of course not, I’d never kill you sweet, sweet female. Instead his answer was…maybe?
“The energy barrier will disappear shortly,” the guard cut in and explained. “At that point intake will be concluded and you will be allowed to come and go as you please. Lock down is at the first sleep bell.” He pointed to the huge metal door that was pushed open. Every single cell had a gray metal door. Some cells were open, some were closed. “This door automatically closes at first bell and opens again at second bell. Make sure you are inside of your cell each night when the nightly lock down alarm sounds. It will blast seven times before the cell closes. You do not want to be caught outside when it closes. The guards will not open it for you. You’ll be stuck outside in the main prison area for the night.”
The guard met her gaze and smirked, and then he was gone and they were alone. The blue energy web still covered the doorway to the cell.
She turned toward her cellmate. “My name is Sara,” she told him. “Sara Smith. And I need your help in here.”
He turned away. His huge body seemed to fill the entire cell. “I’m no help to you, female.”
“But you are, you are a huge help to me,” she said to his wide, wide back, “because…Xylan don’t rape.” Didn’t he know how important this was? The fact that Xylan were incapable of rape or sexual harassment was the number one reason this male was her best choice as her protector, despite the fact that he was a berserker. Females of all species considered Xylan to be males of h
onor. If this Xylan was her protector, she wouldn’t have to give up her virginity and grit her teeth while being violated on a daily basis. She’d be left alone. This reason was worth its weight in gold. Worth the risk of befriending a berserker. Well, and also the embarrassing fact that she couldn’t keep her eyes off him. There was that. She had to admit, that probably made this decision easier. She cleared her throat. “I was prepared to trade my virginity for protection. If I stay with you, I don’t have to worry about that.”
He stilled, quiet for a moment, and finally said over his shoulder, “The guards are hoping to find you dismembered, with your limbs torn, and bleeding out because I went into a berserker rage.”
Her lips thinned. He was trying to shock her and gross her out, and doing a fantastic job of it, too. “It’s just…you don’t look like a berserker,” she said with complete honesty. He really didn’t. He instead looked like every fantasy she’d ever entertained in her mind of what the term “hero” meant. His features were hard, but she’d noticed when his golden-brown glance fell on her, his eyes softened. At first she thought she was imagining it, but no, even now, she felt strangely comfortable around him, the shock of finding out his berserker status already wearing off. She held on to that tightly.
He snorted. “You’ve seen a berserker before?”
“Yes, actually. I watched that reality show about the chase for the last berserker on Chronos. But…you seem different, like a warrior in control, not a male on the verge of anarchy.”
The energy web made a slight noise and then immediately retracted. The entrance to their cell was clear.
He continued to stand resolutely, facing the back of the cell, presenting his back to her. He took a deep breath, his shoulders somehow growing even wider. “You aren’t my Bride,” he said over his shoulder. “If that’s what you want, it won’t happen. I cannot mate with you.”
Her face heated. “Hey,” she answered with her voice carefully even, trying to act like she didn’t give one shit that he’d never want her that way even though it was literally tearing her up inside. “When I cupped your ass earlier that was a mistake. An accident. I apologized then and I’ll apologize now. I’m sorry, I stumbled and fell against you, I didn’t mean for it to happen. It didn’t mean anything.”
He swung back around, looming over her, and pinned her with that quiet gaze, searching her face, as if he knew the truth about her feelings and was trying to decide what to do with this albatross. She sucked in a breath, her face and neck burning up. Basically, this stare-off with Syrin was in the top ten most embarrassing moments of her life. And that was saying a lot considering she’d grown up with three asshole cousins.
She cleared her throat again. “I know how this is going to work,” she said, trying to reassure him that she wouldn’t turn all clingy and grabby. “I understand you won’t have any, um, urges for me. Xylan can physically only have sex with their one true mate, their Bride, which will most likely be another Xylan female, therefore nothing will ever happen between us. In fact, I’m counting on that. I know you won’t rape me, so I feel safer with you than the other males around here.”
“I’ve been taken off the Xylan mating database due to my status as a berserker. I will never have a Bride or offspring,” he confirmed. “I will never be your pleasure mate, I will never want you, never desire you, ever.”
She wanted to curl up on the floor and cry, but instead went with her second most brilliant response: “Oh.”
“If we are to share the same cell…you need to remember that I could easily become enraged. I will not recognize friend from foe and quite possibly tear you to shreds.”
She closed her eyes for a moment, took a calming breath, and opened her eyes again. Life on a prison space station didn’t exactly lend itself to a cornucopia of choice. “Well, neither of us have any choice in being in this position, so let’s make the best of it. We’ll be like co-workers. You take care of me and I’ll take care of you.”
He crooked an eyebrow, well, really the silver-tipped ridges on his forehead moved up an inch and back down again.
Oh gosh. “What? You don’t believe me? I actually have skills. I really can take care of you, too.”
He shrugged a massive shoulder, like he was beyond disinterested in her wimpy statement. “You are in my cell already,” he rumbled. “I will offer you my protection while I am in my normal state, only because there is no choice; you share my cell and your safety affects mine. You will follow my orders and not cause me to become angry and kill you.”
“Okay, I can do that.”
He looked at her, quiet.
She rolled her eyes. “I really can be level-headed and not piss you off. And I can take care of you, too. You have my back and I’ll have yours. I’ll owe you big-time for protecting me, so if you need anything, I’m happy to help.”
He continued to give her a skeptical stare.
She sighed. “Look, I know New Earth is a primitive backwater. You’re thinking, what could have she learned there? I was living free from New Earth before I was thrown in prison and during that time I worked with a crew. I learned that I like hacking and fixing and changing computer systems. Especially security systems. I’m good at it, you’ll see. It can come in handy here.”
Syrin grunted. “You will do your best to remain silent around me. This will increase your chances of remaining alive in this cell.”
Her jaw clenched. “Hopefully you’ve already noticed how hard it is for me to stay silent.”
He shifted his stance, and Sara worried he’d give up on her then. And holy shit, that meant life was going to suck.
But then his lips twitched. Wait. Was he…smiling? She blew out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.
3
“Why is the human female in your cell?”
Syrin glanced back at Trax, the Creekan Bounty Hunter he’d worked missions with since they’d both started with the Hunter Guild, ten planetary cycles ago. Trax was his closest friend and also an annoying pain in his armor. But a male, nonetheless, who put up with his berserker flare ups and remained loyal to him no matter their change in status. And this made him worth his weight in precious metal.
The human female was busy examining the interior of their cell. Not that there was much to see. Once you’d seen one prison cell, you’d seen them all. So, Syrin stepped outside, maintaining an overall view of the area.
“The guards placed her in my cell hoping I’d kill her,” he said.
Trax burst out laughing. “I wish I’d been there to see that. How are you going to get rid of her?”
Syrin shook his head. “I’m not. She’s staying. I vowed to protect her.”
Trax let out an exasperated hiss.
Syrin glanced at the human again, intrigued by her movements as she studied their new living conditions. “She will not compromise our mission,” he said, watching as she examined the limited space. This female was an interesting companion. She was smaller than a Xylan female, but still as defiant and fierce as the females of his species. Her colorless skin and hair caught his attention. He’d never before seen that combination of skin and hair so devoid of pigment it practically glowed. Her hair was a soft wave of non-color that contrasted pleasantly with his ancient pigment. On Chronos her non-color would be the subject of shock and horror, she would be shunned and immediately relegated to the lowest segment of society. In his old life, Syrin would have looked on her as an ugly aberration. But, as a Bounty Hunter, he’d lived widely among all the species of the four sectors and was used to beings different than himself. Syrin knew what it was like to be shunned. He would never judge another being by the color of their skin.
Trax’s anger was logical. They were on 149 to complete a precise mission, planned out to the nearest nanco. And this human could potentially ruin everything. Normally he’d be furious, too, at this intrusion into their carefully laid plans, but he was curiously unperturbed at having this human as his ward and cellmate.
Syrin felt a strange need to point out her good qualities. “She might prove helpful.”
“Helpful?” Trax hissed, like it was the most ridiculous idea ever. “Who is she helping? The guards? The other inmates? She’s a weak, human female. Humans are primitive.”
Syrin, Trax and Rengeli had all carefully broken the same intergalactic law together, at the same moment, in order to get thrown in Detention Center: Zeta 149. Their mission was to collect Kroga of Seventy-Five (the most wanted being in the four sectors), break out of prison with their target in lock down stasis, and return Kroga to the Bounty Hunter Guild for “questioning.”
Kroga’s capture was of special interest to Syrin. He wanted that asshole out of commission. Kroga had sparked the Cordovian Wars. This warrior had been his Godsfather, the male of another line trusted with his upkeep and raising if his own line was decimated. A male who had shattered all trust and honor in a horrific instance of betrayal. Kroga had been banished from Xylan ten planetary cycles ago and was still committing crimes across the four sectors. Kroga’s whole line was banished for two generations as a consequence of his treachery. He was wanted by the Bounty Hunter Guild. And as far as Syrin was concerned Kroga was now a dead warrior. Others might not be able to capture him, might have failed in their mission, but Bounty Hunters did not give up. Syrin did not give up. The Xylan had left a trail of death and tears behind him for too many years. It was time for this to end.
This mission was personal. There was no room for failure. Also, failure meant being locked up indefinitely on 149. This was not an option.
Nothing could jeopardize this carefully planned mission to retrieve Kroga of Seventy-Five from his hiding place on Detention Center: Zeta 149. Nothing. Not even this new female who shared his cell. This was the number one mission occupying the leadership of the Guild. All Bounty Hunters were following the progress of this mission, eager for Kroga’s apprehension. He was accused of paying to have a fake target retrieved, which jeopardized the honor of the entire Guild.
The Alien Bounty Hunters Complete Series: Books 1-8 Page 38