Tracker (Outcasts Book 3)

by Cyndi Friberg

  “I agree, but I’m not sure she will.” He looked at Sara. “Arrista won’t understand anyone unless she links with them, and it’s doubtful she’d feel safe enough to do so.”

  She slipped off her chair with a nod. “We better get down there. She must be terrified.”

  “Keep Sara in the Wheel,” Kage called as the headed out the door. “I do not what her sleeping out by the enclosure!”

  The door slid closed before Xorran could reply, so he took Sara’s hand and they went to the clinic.

  “Did you guys make it in and out without being seen?” she wanted to know.

  “Almost. A couple of guards spotted us, but we were nearly out by then.”

  “What did you do?” She looked up at him, concern creasing her brow. “You’re not hurt, are you?” She pulled him to a stop and looked him over for telltale bandages.

  “I’m fine, love. All five of us are fine. Well, Arrista has a split lip and a nasty bruise, but that’s easily repaired.”

  “I can’t believe that bastard punched her hard enough to knock her out. What a jerk.”

  “I think the reason he was there is proof enough of his utter lack of character.” He took her by the hand and they continued on their way.

  “Agreed.”

  They reached the clinic and found it buzzing with conversations and activity. Victims from a minor explosion were being treated on one side of the round room while Arrista, Heather, and a horde of concerned males had congregated on the other. Heather was basking in the attention, so Sara made a beeline for the elf.

  Arrista sat on one of the treatment tables, legs drawn up to her chest. Her eyes were round as saucers and her entire body trembled. Torrin stood beside her, clearly trying to calm her fear, but nothing he said had any effect on the traumatized female.

  The elf spotted Sara and came alive. “Oh, Sara, thank the gods. Please tell them I was trying to protect Heather. I am no threat to anyone.”

  Sara rushed to the opposite side of the bed from Torrin and gently took Arrista’s hand. “You’re not our prisoner. The men were worried that General Alonov would harm you, so they brought you here. You can return if that’s what you want, but we really wish you would consider staying, at least for a while.”

  Shifting her gaze from Sara, to Torrin, to Xorran and back, Arrista seemed to consider her options. “Does that male belong to you?” She made a subtle motion toward Xorran.

  “Yes.” Sara looked at him and smiled. “That’s my mate.”

  His heart flipped over in his chest. Was she accepting his claim, or just simplifying the situation for Arrista?

  “And this one?” Arrista asked.

  “I belong to no one,” Torrin said firmly in Sarronti.

  Arrista gasped. “Why can you suddenly speak my language? You did not do so before?”

  “He’s accessing my translator,” Sara told her. “I have to be nearby for him to do it.”

  “I can resolve that issue, if your friend is willing,” Dr. Foran said. He stood slightly back, apparently waiting for a break in the conversation. Everyone looked at him expectantly, so he explained, “We got lucky with your blood sample,” he told Sara. “We were able to isolate one of their nanites, and our biotech team has been analyzing it ever since. I can inject her with one of our translators. I believe the two will operate separately, without interfering with each other.”

  “Is Rodyte tech safe for the Sarronti?” Challenge rippled through Sara’s tone.

  “Obviously, this has never been tried with a Sarronti, but I have injected sixty-eight different species with these nanites and none had an adverse reaction.”

  Sara turned back to Arrista and explained what Dr. Foran had said.

  “How does this translator know my language?” the elf wanted to know.

  Good question. They all looked at Foran as Sara asked the question in Rodyte.

  He smiled, apparently pleased with himself. “I recorded Farlo Alonov and channeled the audio stream into our linguistic computer. He likes to talk to himself when he thinks no one is listening.”

  Sara translated for Arrista and the elf smiled. “Tell the doctor that I will allow the injection.”

  Dr. Foran administered the nanites, then went back to his other patients. Arrista was chatting away in Rodyte in no time at all. She was still cautious, and strangely focused on Torrin, which was making the assassin uncomfortable.

  “I need to get back to work,” he said suddenly. “Welcome to OP3.” The greeting had been meant for Arrista, but he didn’t make eye contact with her before hurrying from the room.

  “OP3?” Sara asked.

  “Outcast Planet 3,” Xorran told her. “The high command has been calling it that for weeks and it seems to have caught on.”

  “This planet is Sarronti, not OP3,” Arrista insisted.

  He and Sara just nodded, then Sara said, “I get the OP part, but what’s with the 3?”

  “This was the third planet we seriously considered.” He chuckled. “Maybe we should have stuck with 2.”

  Arrista seemed somewhat settled, so they moved over to check on Heather. Her face had been scrubbed clean, though her hair was still in need of shampoo. She smiled at Sara, then introduced her to the three males lined up on the other side of the treatment table. “These are my suitors.” A bright blush broke out on the crest of her cheeks, making her look even younger.

  “I see,” Sara said, returning the younger woman’s smile. According to Sara, Heather had been crushed when her potential mates didn’t immediately begin courting her. Apparently, her peril was the kick in the ass they needed to come out of the shadows. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Looks like you’re in good hands.”

  Heather’s only reply was another shy smile.

  “Let’s go,” Sara tugged on his sleeve, urging him toward the exit.

  More than happy to be alone with his soon-to-be mate, Xorran wrapped his arm around her and headed for his cabin.

  Chapter Eight

  “Kage told me he’d set up a surveillance feed, so I can keep an eye on Wenny without endangering myself,” Sara told Xorran as they reached his cabin.

  “It’s a great idea, but when did the overlord become Kage to you?” Xorran did not sound happy with the development.

  Jealousy, in small measures, was flattering, and Sara allowed herself a pleased smile. “Kage also assured me that the communication ban will be lifted, so I’ll be able to do video conferences with my family.”

  “I’m thrilled to hear it. Stop calling him Kage.”

  She laughed. “He’s a nice guy and you know it, so stop scowling at me.”

  “He’s a ruthless killer, and you know it. Don’t let his charm fool you. It’s one of many weapons in his arsenal.”

  She sighed. “I’ve heard the stories, but they’re hard to believe once you’ve spent time with him.”

  “They aren’t stories, love. At least not most of them. I’ve never seen him in action, but Torak certainly has and he willingly bows to the overlord’s authority. The only reason he’d do that is because the overlord is even more deadly than he is.”

  “Fine. We’ll agree to disagree on the subject of Kage Razel.” She waved away the topic as she went to the sofa and sat down. “Tell me about the raid. How in blazes did Torrin open the door?”

  Xorran joined her on the couch before he began his explanation. “There is much more to Torrin than meets the eye. Torak called him a cyborg, though Torrin objected to the label.”

  “A cyborg? If he has a bunch of robotic parts, they’re certainly concealed well.”

  He stretched out his arm along the sofa’s padded back, his fingertips lightly stroking the nape of her neck. “He...scanned the area with his hand and located a foot trigger. He wasn’t using any sort of equipment, so I can only conclude that he is the scanner.”

  “How strange. He looks completely—” She laughed and shook her head. “I almost said human. It’s so easy to forget that none of you
are.” He moved his entire hand to her neck and gently squeezed, massaging the tense muscles. She moaned. “Do that for five minutes and I’ll be asleep.”

  Immediately he stopped and tangled his fingers in her hair. “Can’t have that. I’m not finished with you yet.”

  She poked him in the side. “You are unless you take a shower. You reek of sweat.”

  “Fair enough.” He stood and stripped off his shirt. “Get naked and get in bed.”

  Her brows arched at his bossy tone. “And if I don’t?”

  “Stay right there and you’ll find out,” he warned, then walked into the bathroom, which could be accessed from the living room or the bedroom.

  The rebellious part of Sara wanted to test him, but common sense won out. The last thing she wanted was conflict. Their relationship should be a haven, a shelter from the rest of the world—or worlds.

  She went into the bedroom and undressed, then slipped into bed, propping herself up against the sleek headboard. Sonic showers were much faster than water, so she was sure he would choose that option. A few minutes later, he opened the door and walked into the bedroom buck naked.

  “Wise decision,” he praised. His features were tight, gaze intense.

  “Are you always like this after a mission?” She licked her lips, heart thudding wildly. “I’m not sure if I like it or not.”

  He chuckled, but his fierce expression didn’t soften. “This is why so many babies are born nine months after a battle.” He ripped the sheet from under her hand and crawled onto the bed.

  She gasped, then giggled, horrified that such a childish sound had just released from her throat. If she didn’t know him as well as she did, this aggression would have been frightening. Instead her nipples peaked and her clit tingled in response to his obvious need.

  He grabbed her ankles and pulled her down the bed, until she lay flat on her back. Then he moved over her, wedging his knees between her thighs. “I need you.” The words sounded gravelly, his tone even deeper than usual.

  Rather than speak, she opened her legs and bent her knees.

  He growled in response to her offer and found her entrance with the tip of his cock. Her body had just started to respond, so she hissed when he tried to push inside. She was wet, but apparently not wet enough to take his girth.

  Crawling off the end of the bed, he knelt on the deck and pulled her hips to the edge of the mattress. With one quick motion he draped her legs over his broad shoulders and buried his face between her legs. He wasn’t gentle or finessed as he usually was when he aroused her with his mouth. He thrust his tongue into her core over and over, claiming her with possessive jabs.

  She tilted her hips and stroked his hair, thrilled by his abandon. This was the savage side of Xorran that she sensed but never saw, and she wanted to know all of him. Their link came alive and emotions, raw and consuming flowed into her mind. Desire, bonfire hot, burned through her consciousness, making her gasp and moan. The pull could be intense, but this was different, darker, rooted somewhere in his past.

  Mine. The word echoed through his soul, part demand, part plea. She opened her mind to him, offering her being as freely as she offered her body. He surged across the link, drinking in her emotions, soothing himself with her affection. And her surrender.

  Gradually, he calmed. The frantic urgency eased and he remembered why he was down there. He pulled back slightly, brushing her folds with his lips. She let out her breath slowly, not trusting his new mood. His tongue gently traced her slit, teasing, caressing.

  She held perfectly still and focused on the sensations building beneath his lips. Whatever demon that had been driving him was contained for the time being. His hands slid up and down her legs while his tongue explored her folds. His refusal to touch her clit drew restlessness to the surface. The rest felt nice, but she needed his tongue right there, circling and flicking the sensitive knot of nerves.

  “Please, Xorran.”

  Please, what? Instead of lifting his mouth from her sex, he pushed the question into her mind.

  Why did males insist on making females beg for pleasure? It was so annoying. She knew the answer. Exerting control over their mate’s body made them feel powerful. Well, she needed an orgasm badly, so starting a fight would be foolish. “Lick my clit,” she whispered. “Make me come.”

  If he’d tried to make her say please, he’d probably get kicked in the face. Luckily for both, he left it alone and gave her what she needed. His lips closed around her clit and sucked ever so gently. She moaned deep in her throat as pleasure swelled and twisted through her core. Then his tongue circled the ultrasensitive nub, teasing it with all the skill and patience she’d come to expect from him.

  The orgasm built slowly, like a storm hovering on the horizon. She raised her arms over her head and just let go. He pushed two fingers into her sopping-wet center, thrusting in and out, while he continued to tease her clit. She tightened her inner muscles, pushing the tension higher. His lips suddenly closed around her again and she came with a startled cry. Sharp yet blissful sensations pulsed through her abdomen, blurring her surroundings until her mind was incapable of thought.

  He shifted her legs to the bend of his elbows as he surged to his feet. This time when he tried to enter, she accepted him easily. They both moaned as his length filled her completely. Unable to restrain himself a millisecond longer, he pulled his hips back, then thrust back in, burying himself to the balls in one sharp move.

  “Yes,” she gasped. “Hard. Make it hard.”

  Xorran chuckled as he continued his slow, deep thrusts. “I don’t think it’s ever been harder,” he teased. He wanted to pound into her like a madman, but it had to be his idea. He felt raw and restless, savage in a way he hadn’t felt in years. The mission, though a success, brought up unwanted memories.

  Refusing to be distracted by the past, he focused on Sara’s lovely face. She had her arms raised overhead and her gaze was unfocused. She was so damn beautiful she didn’t seem quite real. Then her inner muscles tightened around his surging cock and reality returned with a vengeance. His balls burned and his shaft ached, his need to come literally painful.

  He kept her legs hooked over his arms as he reached up and grasped her waist. Then he sped his thrusts, giving her fast and hard, because now it was his idea. She arched and wiggled, completely lost in the sensual storm. Her mind was open and accepting, a rare gift he would cherish always.

  Deeper and harder, he took her, until his control finally snapped. He ended with a super-fast flurry of thrusts that made release impossible to withhold. He dropped his head back and closed his eyes as pleasure blasted through his body. He gasped, holding her still while he jetted deep inside her.

  She came half a second later, the rippling pulsation of her core, drawing him deeper into her body. He shuddered and she shivered, wrapping her legs around his waist. “‘He’s got to be fresh from the fight,’” she whispered with a dreamy smile. “Okay. I get it now.”

  “What?” Her words made no sense.

  She laughed, her body tightening around his with each chuckle. “It’s a song. My mother used to sing it whenever she wanted to annoy my dad. It’s about finding a man who’s brave and fierce, and not afraid to fight for the woman he loves. All the things my father was not.”

  “Why did she marry him if he lacked the qualities she desired in a mate?”

  “Damn good question.” She sighed. “I don’t know the answer.”

  He carefully separated their bodies and joined her on the bed. She generally curled up and went to sleep after they shared pleasure. He wanted to understand why this time had made her talkative and melancholy. “I know they’re no longer together. Do you still have a relationship with both, or did you feel obligated to join one side or the other.”

  “They both behaved so badly during the divorce that I didn’t speak to either for almost a year. Then Mom showed up at work. She looked so miserable that I couldn’t be mean to her. Dad called a few days later
, said if I was going to talk to her it was only fair for me to talk to him. Now I stay in touch with both, but comments about the other one are off limits.”

  He settled on his back and she curled up against his side, her head pillowed on his shoulder. “I think it’s hard for you to be mean to anyone, except the warlord.” He grinned, pleased by the memory.

  “Torak deserved it. He’s a jerk.” She pushed up, bracing her upper body on her forearm so she could look at him. “Will one of the human females have to bond with him?”

  “I presume. Arton’s goal was to give each Outcast at least one match. I guess it’s possible that he didn’t achieve his goal.”

  She nodded, then paused, hesitating to broach the next topic. “What was going on with you earlier? The mission obviously upset you. Why?”

  He was tempted just to show her, but the memories were so horrendous, he didn’t want to subject her to the nightmare. “I was taken prisoner by Ektovians about eight years ago. They’re a vile race that preys on trade routes and unarmed ships. They’re despicable cowards, yet incredibly savage. We were held for almost a year. Me and my team members were subjected to...evils you don’t want to imagine.”

  She tensed and unshed tears glistened in her eyes. “Seeing what Alonov was about to do reminded you of your captivity?” Her voice strained as compassion and dread pulsed across their link.

  Unable to speak the words, he nodded.

  “Were you—”

  “No. We were tortured, horribly abused, but never raped.”

  “Then why did Alonov remind you of the past?” she asked carefully.

  A lump formed in his throat, making it hard to speak. “The Ektovians had been spotted in the area, so this passenger convoy hired us to escort them. The Ektovians ambushed us, descending like locust on the unarmed ships. I’d never seen anything like it before or since.”

  “Did they murder all those people?” She pressed her hand to her upper chest, clearly dreading what he’d say next.