by Anna Carven
Vaka rolled his eyes. “Dialing it down, Sir.” He pulled the trigger.
A bolt of blue plasma sent the men running for cover.
As the dust cleared, Iskar noticed a black hover-car rising in the distance. It wobbled as it quickly gained altitude, its thrusters roaring.
Someone was in a hurry.
“Change of plans,” Iskar snapped. “Follow that hover-car.”
A lifetime in the military had given Iskar good instincts for this sort of thing, and he was almost certain the person he wanted to speak with was trying to escape in that vehicle.
Should have gone the stealth route. Any human is going to try and run when faced with the likes of us.
But he was far too fucking angry to try and be stealthy. If the Collector tried to run, he wouldn’t get far.
Fools. There was no way these humans could ever hope to outrun a Kordolian glider in their simple air-vehicle.
The hover-car accelerated away, but Vaka was onto it.
“Whoa,” Arturo exclaimed as they shot up into the air. The glider dipped and swerved, and suddenly they were on the hover-car’s tail. “How fast can this thing go?”
Within a few heartbeats, they were out over the vast expanse of the desert, heading deeper and deeper into a barren red-dust wasteland.
“Want me to shoot them down?” Vaka asked.
“No. I don’t think they’d survive a crash at this speed, and I need this human alive for questioning.” Iskar eyed the neat rows of exo-armor sitting beside the artillery racks. “Bring us over the top of their vehicle and maintain equal speed. I will extract the target myself.”
Tyrak and Vaka stared at him.
“What, you think I’ve forgotten how to carry out a high-speed ambush and extraction? I was a grunt once, too.” Iskar shrugged off his ceremonial jacket, draping it across the back of his chair. He strode over to the exo-armor outfitting bays and uttered a string of commands in Kordolian.
The outfitting pod closed around him. Iskar allowed the fluid Qualum arms of the pod to remove the rest of his clothes, including his sleek protective undervest and the various weapons strapped to his body.
The exo-armor snapped around him, fitting like a second skin. A dark helm closed around his face. He retrieved his weapons, securing the various firearms and blades in strategically placed holsters and sheaths.
The pod opened.
“Holy shit,” Arturo exclaimed.
Tyrak and Vaka nodded in approval.
“We’re above the car now, Sir.”
“Good.” It felt good to be back in armor.
Once a grunt, always a grunt. Mating Fever might have turned him a little bit crazy, but Iskar hadn’t forgotten his training.
The only difference was that this time, it was personal.
Chapter Sixteen
Mari’s life sort-of flashed before her eyes as she took the man’s hand into hers, kneeling before him. She still couldn’t believe this was happening. She’d gone from meeting silver-skinned aliens in dark alleys to this… being sold by the Syndicate and purchased by a crazy rich guy who wanted to turn her into his personal harem-girl.
Asshole.
“Master,” she said, putting on her best sugary-sweet voice, “I am so grateful to you for rescuing me from that awful place.” She drew on inner reserves of pain—there was plenty of that to go around—and summoned tears.
Liquid welled in her eyes, adding just that extra little drop of authenticity.
“You belong to me now, Wednesday. If you are a good girl, I will treat you well. Do you understand what I expect of you?”
“Th-thank you, Master.” She made her lower lip quiver as he put his thumb under her chin and tilted it upwards. “I think I understand. I will try my best to please you.”
Are you fucking kidding me?
“You won’t just try, Wednesday. You will please me. Your training will take care of any deficiencies.” He smiled, revealing a row of too-perfect, too-white teeth.
Mari carefully schooled her expression, hiding her revulsion. She had to admit, the man wasn’t unattractive by human standards. He was tall and handsome, with dark hair that was slightly greying at the temples, blue eyes, strong features, and an athletic physique—but he did absolutely nothing for her.
It was quite the opposite; he made her skin crawl. Instead, Mari’s thoughts turned to the hard-faced stranger who had chased her into the Dust Alleys the night before.
That Kordolian. Terrifying when he was angry, sublime when he was being kind. A man whose name she didn’t even know; a man she would probably never see again, unless her wildest dreams came true.
A deep yearning took hold in her chest, but Mari ruthlessly quashed it. There was no time for such feelings right now. She had to deliver the performance of her life.
“What do you want of me, Master?” She injected an earnest little quiver into her voice, projecting fear and reverence.
Ha. Stockholm syndrome on steroids. Is he gonna buy it?
She had to get him off-guard, had to make him think she was just a meek, naive little slum girl.
“We all have a place in the Universe, Wednesday.” His voice was deceptively kind. “You were doomed to a life of poverty until I found you. As soon as I saw you on the Glory Strip, I knew I had to have you. When they told me you were a thief and not a streetwalker, your fate was decided. What I offer is a fair trade. In exchange for your complete servitude, you will live a comfortable existence, free from hunger, poverty, disease, and the Syndicate’s reach.”
And what if I don’t want to serve you, asshole? This rich man sure had some sort of savior-complex. You think you’re doing me a favor by owning me? Stop trying to justify your perversion, old man.
She looked down, hoping he would mistake her lack of eye contact for submission. In truth, she was seething, and she was afraid he might see it in her eyes. “Th-thank you, Master,” she whispered, the words burning her throat like acid.
The man chuckled. “Now come with me, girl.” He rose off the sofa, pulling Mari to her feet. Leading her by the hand, he made his way toward the bedroom. “It is time for me to enjoy unwrapping my present.”
He sounded so damn full of himself. Mari wanted to smash his face in. Part of her wondered what the Kordolian would make of all this. What would he do if he knew she was being held here against her will?
Would he even care?
As Mari followed the dark-suited man into the bedroom, she hid her right arm behind her back. With her pinky finger, she felt for the shock-necklace concealed up her long sleeve.
It hadn’t been hard to figure out how to use the control-wand to remove the necklace. One simply pressed a button that activated the release mechanism. Mari had done it while waiting for the ‘Master’. Pretending to scratch an itch, she’d removed the thing, hiding it up her sleeve beside the control-wand.
Think, girl, think…
Now she just had to figure out how to use the awful device. At the same time, she had to play along with the creepy rich guy.
Of course, it was all an act, and it was the hardest thing she’d ever done in her life, even harder than flirting with constant danger on the Glory Strip.
At least in Darkside, she could run away. The dense crowds and narrow alleys were her cover, her sanctuary.
But here, there was nowhere to go. She was trapped, and even if she managed to overpower this man and escape, she didn’t know what awaited her outside.
What if there were armed guards or security drones in the corridors?
A crazy plan began to form in her mind. It was so crazy—and dare she say it, brutal—that it might just work.
And if it did, this man would do whatever the hell she wanted. Mari was certain of it. He would lead her right out the front door if she asked, and she would never look back.
Chapter Seventeen
“That’s the place, Sir.” Vaka brought up aerial vision of the compound where they’d taken Mari—his Mari. “How do you wa
nt to proceed?”
Anger snapped and licked at the corners of Iskar’s mind like a raging fire. He glanced at the human, K, who was slumped on the floor with his arms and legs bound. Both of his hands were covered in haem-patch, to stop the bleeding.
Beside the human was another culprit, the so-called Middleman.
The Middleman was a fat, aging human with a large bulbous nose and perpetually red cheeks. Everything about him seemed strained—the false hair on his head, the slightly too-tight suit, the long shiny shoes. Sensing Iskar’s scrutiny, he looked up, met his gaze, and quickly looked away.
“I d-don’t know who’s bought her. Ya gotta ask the Middleman. He’s responsible for all the wheelin’ and dealin’ of bodies in this town.” That’s what K had eventually told him, amidst screams of pain. It had only taken three severed digits—shiny rings and all—for the human to spill, surprising Iskar. Of course, he’d done all this on the ground, out of the human boy’s sight. In his experience, the guilty ones usually held out for longer, but then again, he’d never really interrogated a human before.
They’d taken the now-terrified K up into the glider, where he’d communicated with his men, ordering them to detain the Middleman. He understood perfectly well that if Iskar’s target escaped, he was dead.
And so they’d cut a swathe through Darkside looking for this middleman. At one point, a fleet of Enforcer vehicles had appeared on their tail, attempting to give chase.
With the glider’s impressive speed, it hadn’t been hard to lose them.
The Middleman had proven even easier to crack than the Collector. Apparently, confidentiality went out the window when one’s life was at stake.
“I know where he’s taken her. I’ll tell you everything. J-just don’t kill me, please!”
That was how they had arrived at this destination. They were currently hovering above a large residential compound surrounded by lush gardens and high walls, planning their assault.
She is inside! The thrill of anticipation coursed through him, mixing with his anger. Iskar’s headache had returned with a vengeance, and his inner tension was mounting. The simple soldier in him wanted to shoot something. The commander in him wanted to summon his troops and round up every single person who had been complicit in her suffering.
The man in him was afraid.
Afraid of what condition he might find her in.
Afraid of what he might do if they had harmed the very female he was going to claim as his mate.
Goddess, what insanity! Was this what the General and the other mated First Division warriors constantly had to deal with? This vicious, seething, all-consuming torrent of anger and fear and possessiveness that stripped him of all rationality?
Now he understood why they said the Mating Fever was dangerous. It wasn’t dangerous to him—it made him dangerous.
Iskar nodded toward the two humans on the floor. “Vaka, put these two in the lower hold. I will decide what to do with them later.” When he retrieved Mari, he didn’t want her to have to see these pathetic creatures. “We will approach through the roof. They won’t be expecting us. We go in and retrieve her before have a chance to figure out what hit them.”
He signaled to Tyrak. Follow me. Like Iskar, the soldier wore full assault armor.
From his seat near the navigation pod, the boy, Arturo, was staring at them with a mixture of awe and hope.
Iskar gave the kid a reassuring half-salute as he turned and headed toward the rear ejection-pod.
I will retrieve your sister, boy. You may not be aware of this, but she is mine.
The plan was simple: get in, search the house, find the female, and get out. Shoot anything that gets in the way. As for the human who was responsible for this mess, he was Iskar’s, to deal with as he saw fit.
This was starting to feel a little too much like the bad old Imperial days, when they ruled planets with total impunity.
“Commander Gar-Kurai.” As if reading his thoughts, the General’s deep voice rumbled through Iskar’s comm. “I have received reports of a rogue Kordolian craft speeding above Darkside. What the fuck are you doing, Iskar?”
Iskar hesitated, searching for the right answer in his mind. One of the most difficult things about dealing with the General was that he was notoriously difficult to read, and one never quite knew how he was going to react.
“I am dealing with a personal matter,” he said finally, knowing it was in his best interests to be honest. The General always discovered the truth in the end. “There is a female I intend to claim as my mate.” I cannot rest, cannot think clearly, cannot function until I have her. “I am sorry, Sir. I should have informed you, but Humans have taken her against her will. I cannot—”
“You should have informed me, Commander, but I will deal with your breach of protocol later. Right now, you do not have to explain any further. Believe me, I understand what you are going through. Do what is necessary. The act of claiming a mate supersedes anything else.”
Akkadian’s blessing was given in a quiet, fierce manner that only served to reinforce Iskar’s loyalty to the man. At the very least, he’d expected a harsher reprimand, but there was only support.
I have your back. That’s what Akkadian was saying, and Iskar could not have asked for a more powerful ally.
“It will be a quick infiltration,” he said. “I expect minimal collateral.”
“Get it done, Commander. We will deal with the humans later.”
“Sir!” Iskar performed the fist-on-chest salute as they moved from the central cabin to the rear ejection hatch. With a quick command to Vaka, the hatch opened, and Iskar and Tyrak were suddenly in highly controlled freefall, dropping to the roof of the facility below.
They landed on the metal roof with a thud, their armor-boots creating small indents in the flat grey surface.
“Where’s our entry point?” Tyrak asked, speaking through the comm.
“We blast through the roof,” Iskar said. “You start at that end. I’ll enter through here.”
After all, he didn’t know of any human-made structure that could withstand a concentrated burst of plasma-fire.
Chapter Eighteen
Mari zipped up her dress, staring down at the man who had tried to imprison her. He lay spreadeagled on the bed, naked, his features twisted into an expression of pure outrage.
“Don’t move,” she said softly. She slipped her feet into the tall silver fuck-me heels, enjoying the look of helpless outrage on his face. She literally had him by the balls. “You’re going to get dressed now, and then you and I are going to go for a walk. You’re going to walk with me all the way through this house until we reach the exit. Then we’re going to get into a vehicle—I’m guessing a rich guy like you owns a hover-car—and we’re going to drive until I say stop. Do you understand, Master?”
Despite his predicament, the man summoned a mirthless smile. “You really don’t have any idea who I am, do you, Wednesday?”
“You never told me your name. Don’t know, don’t care.” She shrugged. And my name is Mari, asshole. But she didn’t want him of all people to call her by her real name. “I don’t really spend a whole lot of time on the Networks. Don’t follow politics or celebrities or trends.” I’m too busy trying to survive.
“You are making a big mistake, girl. I can ruin your life with the click of a button.”
“And I can make your life absolute hell with the press of a button, right here, right now.” Mari held up the silver control-wand. Its counterpoint—the innocuous looking shock-necklace—was currently looped around his balls. Just now, Mari had discovered that one could get a man to spectacularly lower his guard by tricking him into thinking he was getting a blow-job. “How is escaping from you a mistake?”
The man froze, his arrogant expression wavering. “You want to escape and go back to your miserable life in the Dust Alleys? I was doing you a fucking favor, Wednesday. There are thousands of women who would give anything to be in your shoe—”
<
br /> That’s when the roof caved in.
“Aargh!” Mari screamed in shock and fear as chaos rained down upon them. For a split-second, she thought the man before her had activated some sort of security alarm. They’re coming to get me!
Her finger accidentally depressed the button on the control-wand.
The man’s shriek of pain made her ears ring. Crap! Mari hastily removed her finger from the button. Perhaps her little plan had worked a bit too well. Bits of plaster and debris rained down all around them, and amidst the chaos, a specter dropped from the hole in the ceiling.
And Mari found herself face-to-face with just about the scariest motherfucker she’d ever seen in her life.
Alien. That was her first thought as she froze, completely transfixed by the menacing intruder.
He went perfectly still. Didn’t move, didn’t say a word, just stared at her.
Well, she thought he was staring. She couldn’t see his face under that impenetrable black helmet. Her gaze dropped to his powerful frame. His obsidian alien-tech armor was made up of a series of segmented plates that were perfectly molded to his honed body, accentuating every sculpted line. In his hand was a long, sleek gun, the end of which glowed sinister blue.
Is it you? Her heart skipped a beat. She’d never seen anything so magnificent… and scary.
Still, he didn’t move, and with every passing second, her doubts grew. What if this terrifying dark warrior had come to save the rich guy?
The plates of his impenetrable dark helm retracted into the armor-suit, revealing his face.
It’s you! Adrenaline flooded her veins, kick-starting her stalled heart. Her heartbeat went into overdrive as crimson eyes traveled up-and-down her body. It’s really you!
Arturo must have kept his word and tracked the alien down. But… how?