by Cynthia Sax
“I’ll let you go.” He released her. “For now.”
“For forever.” She drew her guns.
Mayhem covered her hands with his and pushed the muzzles away from his chest. Imee was powerless to stop him. The body she’d previously thought strong was no match for his.
“You remain my target,” she insisted. “Nothing has changed.”
“Everything has changed.” He pulled her to him, flattening her curves against his muscle. She twisted, kicked, bucked against him.
He turned with her. Her back smacked against stone. She gasped.
The bastard kissed her again, exploiting her weakness, filling her mouth with his tongue, plunging, ravishing, taking. Imee wiggled. He knocked her hands against the rock, forcing her to drop her guns, leaving her defenseless.
She moaned as he leaned against her, trapping her between his body armor-clad form and the boulder. His weight pushed the air from her lungs, the rebellion from her soul. They fit as though made for each other. Bubbles popped on her lips, chin, neck. His taste filled her mouth.
Imee sagged against him, capitulating, losing the fight against desire. She couldn’t think when he touched her like this, all over, his fingers skimming along her legs. Her brain contained only lust, yearning.
The male, her target, Mayhem drew one of her knees upward, opening her more to him. She grasped his shoulders and ground shamelessly against the bulge in his armor. He mouthed over her neck, his breath hot on her skin, his lips bruisingly firm. The pain thrilled her.
They dry humped like two wild things against the rock, their embrace ferocious; frustration, anger, and something more swirling together in a vortex of intensity. He pulled her breast covering lower, exposing more skin. She panted, the passion inside her stretching, stretching, stretching.
He nipped the swell of her right breast and she snapped.
“Yes.” Imee arched her back, rubbing her breasts against him, as release surged through her. The blazing sun above them dimmed and brightened, dimmed and brightened, sound rushing over her.
He licked her skin, soothing his bite mark, taking away the pain.
“Bubbles,” she mumbled, trembling in his arms.
“Nanocybotics,” he corrected. “Now, everyone will know you’re mine. When we are apart, they’ll smell me on you and realize whom you belong to. They won’t touch you.” His expression was smug.
Imee was tempted to slap his handsome face. She didn’t know anything about nanocybotics. Her skill set was retrieving, not biology. But she did know she belonged to no male.
“I’m not yours.” She pushed on his chest.
“You know how to free yourself.” The male didn’t move.
He’d force her to say his name again, force her to think of him as a living, breathing being, a male with friends, perhaps a family.
Kralj had set that rule for a reason. She’d broken it, would break it again, and there would be a price to pay for that, a pain to endure.
Imee held his gaze for one, two, three heartbeats, a token protest, balm for her pride, and whispered, “Mayhem.”
This time, the male didn’t ask her to repeat herself. He stepped backward. “Don’t try to shoot me again.”
Fuck him. Imee reached for her weapons and grasped air. The daggers in her boots, the knives hidden in her breast covering, the blade strapped to her spine, all of them were gone.
She was defenseless. “You stole my weapons.” Panic churned her stomach.
For a moment, she was twelve solar cycles again, a lost little girl dropped on a strange, hostile planet by the Humanoid Alliance, armed only with an ancient malfunctioning gun and a private viewscreen, told that if she didn’t steal a ship and retrieve her quota of beings, the family she loved would die.
“You planned to use those weapons against me.” Mayhem showed no sympathy for her plight. His eyes glimmered with humor. A smile curved his lips.
Imee stared at him. The hilt of her small dagger was visible in the sheath over his heart, placed next to his larger blade.
She saw nothing funny in her current situation. Her target had her weapons. Intoxicated by his kisses, she hadn’t noticed her disarming.
An unarmed Retriever was a dead Retriever. Her kind was hated by all. Even the Humanoid Alliance, the beings owning her allegiance, wanted to kill her.
Dead Retrievers didn’t make quota. She’d made her quota for this solar cycle. When she missed her quota for the next, the Humanoid Alliance would kill her mom, her sister, her brother.
Allowing herself to become distracted was a foolish mistake, one only an inexperienced Retriever would make. It might have not only ended her lifespan but also her family’s lifespans.
Imee folded her fingers into tight fists, shaking with shock at what she’d done, angry at herself and at him. “You’re a bastard.”
Mayhem’s smile wavered. “Imee--”
“No.” She had to get away from him, from the confusion he evoked within her.
And she had to rearm. She’d stashed guns in the transport she’d borrowed from Kralj. Imee stalked toward the gap in the stone wall, the passage she’d entered through. She’d replace her arsenal and form a plan.
“Giving up so soon, my female?” Mayhem trailed her, his tread soundless.
When she was hunting him, his steps had been noisy, heavy. He had wanted her to chase him, to find him. Her lips twisted. And she, like a untested Retriever, had fallen for his tricks. “I have no guns.”
“You don’t need guns. I’ll protect you.”
“I don’t care about myself.” She only cared about her family, about safeguarding them. If she died, she couldn’t do that.
“Whom do you care about?”
“Not you.” She couldn’t care about him, about anyone other than her mom, her sister, her brother. It took all of her resources to keep them alive.
“My female--”
“I’m not your female.” Imee continued to walk, kicking up the white sand. “Get that through your thick head. I plan to get my guns and capture you, take you back to the Humanoid Alliance.”
“You told your friend Kralj you’d escort me to the Refuge.”
“Kralj isn’t my friend.” Friendship was yet another luxury she couldn’t afford. And her mentor didn’t expect that from her. He was using her for his own purposes. Once she ceased to be a weapon he wanted to wield, Kralj would either banish her or kill her.
Imee entered the small transport she’d borrowed. The first ship she’d stolen hadn’t been much bigger. Its owner, thinking it a vessel no being would covet, had run into a beverage outlet, leaving the doors unlocked and the engines running. She’d taken the ship, almost crashing it into a nearby domicile.
Her skills at flying had improved since then. She sat in the captain’s chair, starting the engines.
Mayhem claimed the seat beside hers and placed his palms on one of the control panels, immediately assuming command.
Imee was unconcerned. “You don’t have access.” And soon he’d be her captive, as she’d warned him he would be.
She bent over and extracted a gun she’d fastened under the console, relaxing as soon as she gripped it. She was armed again, able to defend herself.
“I always have access.” Mayhem grinned.
He was an overconfident ass. She opened her mouth to tell him exactly that.
The transport shot forward, the thrust pushing her back against the seat. “You bastard.” How had he circumvented the controls? She’d locked them against other beings. “What are you?”
Mayhem laughed, not answering, and he increased their speed.
Chapter Three
Mayhem exited the transport, having parked it outside the settlement’s walls, mere strides away from the front gates. He was conscious of the curvy female behind him, her sweet scent encircling him, her gun’s muzzle pointed between his shoulders.
“Would you shoot me in the back, my female?” He was unconcerned. She’d changed the setting to
stun, his female not as bloodthirsty as she acted.
“Yes.” She was delightfully honest. “I’ve done worse things.”
He’d done worse things also. There was little honor in battle, only kill or be killed. Mayhem glanced over his right shoulder. Her beautiful face was determined, her grip on her gun tight.
He could disarm her easily but he wouldn’t. Not having a weapon made her nervous, almost fearful, and he wanted his little human to feel safe around him.
Earning her trust was his priority.
That and finding his friends. Menace, are you there? He probed through their private transmission line.
There was silence. The line had been quiet since his friend had scaled the settlement’s high stone walls. It was as though someone was blocking the transmissions.
Had that someone captured Menace?
“Whom do you care about?” He probed again. “This Kralj being?” Jealousy wrapped around him. He’d heard the respect in her voice when she spoke of the male.
“Kralj?” She snorted. “I care about keeping on his good side. You should too.”
“He should care about keeping on my good side.”
Her wariness of the male irked him.
Mayhem’s gaze lifted to the line of pikes decorating the sands around the settlement. Her wariness might be warranted. Corpses in varying degrees of decay were impaled on the pieces of metal. Many of dead had their throats ripped out, as though they’d been attacked by animals.
Keeping Imee safe moved to the top slot on Mayhem’s priority list.
He squared his shoulders and extended his arms as he approached the gates, striving to protect the fragile human female behind him.
They’d locate Menace, search the settlement for Death and his female, and then they’d leave. He’d find a safe planet to stash Imee on, have his adventures, and eventually return for her.
One look at the settlement’s gatekeeper firmed that plan. The largest humanoid male Mayhem had ever seen in his long lifespan was guarding the double doors, his huge arms crossed in front of his bare chest, not a bead of sweat dappling his green skin. His fingers were folded into massive fists. His square jaw was jutted.
The black ink on the giant’s cheek told Mayhem that the other being had once been Humanoid Alliance property. The numbering sequence – MOD00321 – wasn’t in the database.
The gatekeeper was an unknown, Mayhem’s favorite type of opponent. “Friends of yours?” He nodded at the corpses.
Imee poked him in the back with her gun.
The giant grunted and lowered his thick black eyebrows. Mayhem held his gaze.
His opponent cracked his knuckles, one by one, the sound loud, jarring, designed to frighten. Mayhem, not at all intimidated by his display, mimicked him.
The giant’s eyes glinted with humor and a tinge of respect. “You’re a crazy little being.”
“He is.” Imee volunteered behind him.
“I’m not little.” He wouldn’t deny the crazy accusation.
The giant’s lips twitched. “Kralj is waiting for you.” He stepped to the side and the gates opened.
Noise and scent poured out, the scene riotous. A tented marketplace was set up near the entrance. A male argued with another male about the cost of a panel.
In the next stall, a female was bent over a wooden horizontal support. She gripped the edge and panted while a male vigorously bred with her, pounding both her pussy and her ass with his dual cocks.
Beings fought to the left of them. A hairy blue Ungarian sliced into a Carinae’s purple arm with a sword. Blood spurted. His opponent howled his response.
Two males kissed less than an arm’s length away, their forked tongues entwining. A much younger male, possibly their offspring, sat in the sand, watching them.
It was appealingly chaotic.
Mayhem. Menace finally transmitted. Can you hear me?
I can hear you. I entered—
Don’t give me your location. His friend stopped him. That Kralj being can intercept our private transmissions. I’m his guest, as he calls it, at his domicile.
You got yourself captured. Mayhem grinned, heading in the direction of Menace’s transmission, a portion of his focus remaining on the female behind him. I told you to pay attention.
Frag you. He has powers, unlike any being I’ve ever seen. He’s as fast as we are. Not that he needs the speed. One look from him and he can pin a big brute of a male to a seat or fling him across a chamber.
You’re not a big brute of a male. Mayhem covered his concerns with jokes. The giant at the gate would call you a little being.
His friend grumbled.
Mayhem ignored him, turned, and faced his female. She scowled up at him, her cute little nose wrinkled, her big gun gripped in her tiny hands.
He wanted to lick her all over.
That would have to wait. He had a friend to save. “You’ll stay behind me at all times.” He wore protective body armor. She didn’t.
“You’re giving me orders?” Imee pressed the muzzle of her gun under his chin, the metal cool against his skin. “You forget who has the gun.”
His lips twitched. His female was fierce. “One gun isn’t enough.” He extracted both of her daggers from his sheaths. “You need more weapons.”
He crouched before her. Frag. She smelled good. He yearned to bury his face between her thighs.
But he wouldn’t, not yet. Breeding with her would bind them together.
“Take these.” He slid the daggers into the hidden holders in her boots.
Her stiff stance eased. His female liked being armed. “I’ll use them against you,” she warned.
“You’ll try.” Mayhem straightened. “We’ll fight when we’re alone.” He flipped a strand of her long black hair over her shoulder, the tendril sinfully soft. She was a lush opponent. He’d enjoy wrestling with her. “Concentrate on true threats now.”
“I am a true threat.” She narrowed her eyes. “And whatever you’re planning will have to wait. Kralj is expecting us.”
“We don’t want to disappoint him.” Mayhem drew his guns, turned, strode toward the male’s domicile.
“Don’t fight him. You won’t win.” Imee hurried to keep up with him.
Her lack of confidence in his abilities irked him.
“I’ll do all of the talking.” She nudged him with her gun. “Don’t shoot anyone. Don’t say anything. Ignore the conversation I have with Kralj. Think about something else like a nourishment bar or--”
“Your sweet ass.” Mayhem lowered his voice. “How, after I return from my adventures, I’ll strip you naked, bend you over a horizontal support and fill your wet pussy with my big cock, claiming you as mine, permanently.”
Her entrancing musk intensified. “That’s a fantasy.”
“That’s a promise.”
As they walked, other beings darted nervous glances at them and hastily moved out of their way. They feared him and they feared Imee. Pride warmed Mayhem’s chest.
“It’s never going to happen.” His female continued to fight the inevitable. “But if it keeps your mouth shut, think those thoughts.”
It wouldn’t keep his mouth shut. He was a cyborg. He could plan Menace’s rescue, think about breeding with his female, and talk during the same time interval.
Mayhem paused outside a structure.
That was Kralj’s domicile? It appeared to be a beverage outlet. He resisted the urge to contact Menace, not wanting Kralj to know he had arrived.
Their host was unusual. It was logical that he’d have an unusual domicile. And cyborg senses didn’t lie. Menace was inside the structure.
Mayhem strolled to the right. He’d enter through the back and—
“The door’s this way.” Imee slapped his arm with the barrel of her gun. “Kralj knows you’re here.”
The front door, it would be. Mayhem pushed it open with his gun. Heads turned. Chattering stopped. Beings, a variety of species, mostly male, all grim-looking, sat
along a long serving center and around square horizontal supports. Many of them had containers of fermented beverages in their hands.
A couple of the groups appeared to be playing some sort of rock-throwing game, the rocks painted with numbers. Females in various stages of undress sat on the laps of some of the males. They ground into their companions’ groins, trying to entice them into breeding with them.
All of the beings were heavily armed. Many were scarred warriors.
Normally Mayhem would love such a place, thriving on the danger and the unpredictability of the crowd. But he was achingly aware of the fragile female behind him. He was almost indestructible. She wasn’t.
Which was why he couldn’t bring her on his adventures, as much as he was tempted to. Humans were delicate beings. He had to protect Imee.
“Kralj’s private chambers are in the back.” She waved her gun in that direction.
He headed where she indicated. Wary gazes followed his progress. Fingers twitched. Hands rested on weapons. Even the serving females watched him, their eyes wide with curiosity.
“What a friendly group,” he joked.
“I’m a Retriever,” his female muttered. “And every being in this structure is a rebel. They could be my next targets and they know that.”
“Why haven’t you retrieved them?” Mayhem stared down a big brute.
“Within the Refuge, Kralj decides who I hunt. They’re safe unless they displease him.” Her words held a hint of warning. “That doesn’t stop them from hating me, from wanting me dead.”
That bothered his little Retriever. He heard that in her voice. “They won’t touch you,” Mayhem vowed.
“They won’t touch me.” She stomped behind him. “And you won’t touch me either. I know your games now. You won’t fool me again.”
He had only just started their play and he would touch her again.
“This is it.” Imee slipped in front of him, swung the peculiarly manual door open, and gestured for him to enter.
The chamber was dimly lit, the walls dark, decorated with primitive weapons—axes, pikes, swords, an indication of the owner’s violent nature. They were all impeccably maintained. Mayhem breathed deeply. And they smelled like blood.