Rayzor's One (Alien Bounty Hunters Book 1)

by Michele Mills

  What was that?

  Rebecca whipped around. Her whole body tensed. She’d heard a clicking sound…and it wasn’t human. It sounded like an insect, but louder than any insect could make.

  Oh, fuck. There it was again.

  She sucked in a breath. What the hell was that? Her heart pounded in her chest. She gripped the cell phone, tempted to use the light to try to pan the area but also scared of what she might find.

  She chewed on her bottom lip. Should she give up this quest and go back and try to find the relative safety of the road? This was all getting way too weird. She really needed to get the fuck out, but the crash-landing spot for the helicopter—or whatever it was—had to be close by now. She was probably closer to the crash site than the road. You’d think there’d be lights or something.

  Something.

  Maybe it was right by her and she couldn’t see it in the dark. “Hello?” Rebecca yelled out. “Can anyone hear me? Do you need help?” She listened, straining to hear anything, but there was nothing. Just the wind, the hoot of an owl (what the fuck, was the owl following her?) and…and that clicking sound again.

  Oh, hell. Time to do something. Even if it was wrong. She couldn’t just stand there. Rebecca started walking faster with a determined step in the direction she thought the crash site was; it wouldn’t be right to go back until she’d checked. Whatever was out here would be licking its lips to kill an injured person, or to kill her.

  She had to help or get help. Either way, the crash site sounded like her best bet.

  Rebecca continued to pass by an endless parade of trees that all looked the same. It was like she’d pushed off into a lake, leaving the shore, and she’d entered an endless fog. Her flimsy shoes continued to slap against the needles and rocks on the ground. A branch scratched her leg. “Shit,” she whispered.

  The clicking didn’t stop and instead grew louder, and her anxiety increased. Because really, what the fuck was that? This was the weirdest forest ever. “Oh my God,” she gasped, moving faster because now that stifling fear that she wasn’t alone was returning and growing exponentially, and now she was less worried it was a bear and more worried that it was something else entirely.

  A branch snapped behind her.

  Whatever it was, it was close now. She started to jog, breaths short and choppy. The light in her hand jumped from side to side in her grip. But now there was something ahead of her, blocking her path. Dammit. What was it? Rebecca skidded to a stop before she collided with the barrier. She lifted her light to see what she was up against—a group of trees, a boulder—and exposed with her beam a teeming mass of insectoid arms and hissing, widening double jaws, dripping with ropes of drool.

  She screamed.

  Rayzor heard the female.

  “Target locked on humanoid,” the computer updated from inside his helmet.

  Rayzor cursed and pulled his weapon. THX238 was going to ruin everything. Mandibles needed to feed on oxygen-rich blood once a planet rotation, and Earth was filled with billions of such life forms to drain. The target had found his first snack. It had hidden on Earth, assuming no law enforcement or Bounty Hunter would be bold enough to follow him to the edge of the universe. And it had known no Bounty Hunter would risk an extraction attempt while agreeing to a contract that required maintaining zero civilian kill ratio on a planet loaded with easy pickings. It seemed an impossible task.

  No other Bounty Hunter had picked up the job, despite the lucrative bonus package. But Rayzor was used to impossible tasks. He’d built his career on it.

  “Only Rayzor would risk taking that assignment,” Joyzal, his number one rival on the Hunter Leaderboards, had spit out, ranting in a booming voice. Everyone in the vicinity had heard, including Rayzor. “He’s banished from Chronos. No family, no Bride, no offspring, no one to mourn the passing of his line. If he takes this job and dies, what does it matter to him? I can’t win against a Hunter with a death wish.”

  Rayzor frowned. Did he have a death wish? He wasn’t sure.

  He took a deep breath and sprinted for the location the computer had identified. Every movement Rayzor made in this extraction was being recorded and logged for review by the Hunter Union. Every error he made carefully catalogued in order to determine the final price he would be paid for this job. He needed to stop the Mandible’s feeding immediately or this Hunt was a failure before it had even begun.

  Rayzor leapt high over logs, his specially built Hunter suit and Earth’s lighter gravity giving him more strength than he’d normally have. His night vision helped him to zero in on the Mandible. The fucker already had the humanoid in his feeding clutch, two of its arms twisted around her torso. The small female screamed and struggled. The Mandible’s double jaws widened, about to plunge its feeder into her bared neck.

  Rayzor sent a blast, targeting an exposed fleshy shoulder, a sliver between scales, pushing it back from the female. He couldn’t aim for a kill shot. Rayzor’s contract unfortunately specified he was only paid if the Mandible was returned alive.

  THX238 let out a ground-shattering roar, all of its six arms stretching in challenge. The female stumbled back.

  “Out!” Rayzor shouted to the human. “Run!”

  One moment Rebecca was scared out of her mind, in the clutches of the scariest creature she’d seen since the movie Alien vs. Predator, and the next she’d been let go and the alien was fighting another alien. She figured the other creature was also an alien--a male, she guessed, because he was abnormally tall and wearing some sort of shiny black armor that covered his whole body, even his face. She could hear him shouting to her in a weird language that sounded like Mandarin and a Slavic language at the same time. He’d pointed in the opposite direction from the Predator-type alien and gestured along with his words. Was he trying to tell her to escape?

  And hold on, stop the presses. Could this be actually happening? Aliens? Was this for real, or some kind of elaborate hoax?

  Next thing she knew, the Predator-type alien wasn’t trying to make a snack out of her anymore and the two of them were going at it like Clash of the Titans.

  It was all a blur. But one thing she knew, she needed to get the hell out of there before she became tonight’s appetizer.

  Rebecca started running, she didn’t know where, just away, dodging trees and stumbling along in the dark as fast as her feet would carry her. But dammit, she didn’t get very far when her right foot suddenly crashed through a rotted log, pulling her to the ground. She was on her hands and knees, disoriented and shaky. She jerked her foot, completely freaked out because she could hear the battle between those two aliens raging in the forest behind her and, in fact, getting closer. But her foot wouldn’t budge. She sat up and felt down with her fingers, trying with all her might to dig her foot out of its predicament, but she was stuck. Stuck like glue, her foot wedged in between two roots. She’d need something to cut them with, but she had nothing.

  Rebecca heard the distinctive roar. She whipped her head around and could barely make out in the moonlight two figures fighting behind her, way too damn close. The Predator-type alien plowed into the one that had warned her to leave, despite the two more blasts with his weapon the guy in shiny black armor had pounded the Predator-type alien with. Now they were at hand-to-hand combat, which seemed a bit unfair for the alien in black, considering the other one had six fucking arms.

  No really, six arms.

  Rebecca let out a wet snort and clawed at the dirt and roots trapping her foot, twisting, trying to get free.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  They continued to fight, and then the aliens crashed on the ground next to her.

  Rebecca screamed again.

  The one that had tried to eat her, the one with the scary arms who looked like her worst nightmare, landed not a foot away, and the one in black armor was on the other side. Rebecca whimpered and looked around, trying to find something, anything, to protect herself with. A rock? Why not, what else was there? She dislodged it from th
e area that had been loosened near her foot and reached underneath, huffed, and lifted the small, jagged boulder about the size and weight of a bowling ball. She lugged it into her lap. Ugh.

  The bad alien sat up and roared again, its arms reaching for the other alien. Rebecca literally felt her body bend and her hair blow back due to the force of his yell. And wow, he smelled like rotted fish. This guy was totally the freakiest thing she’d ever seen in real life.

  They were so close now, and the bad alien had his back to her. Perfect. The two were busy, not even noticing she was there, which was good; it gave her time to act. Rebecca had a moment’s indecision. What if this idea didn’t work? Oh, what the hell, it was this or be eaten, right? She lifted the rock, her arms shaking with the weight, and smashed it on what she hoped was the back of the bad alien’s head, praying to either kill it or knock it out. She must’ve hit the jackpot because there was a hiss and a popping sound. Something smelled like rotten eggs. The bad alien slumped to the ground.

  Oh, wow, had she killed it?

  “Fucking Mandible,” Rayzor cursed. His voice barely carried over the battle roar of the warrior in front of him. The double jaws dripped with an unidentifiable substance, the six massive arms tipped with clawed hands—though none of it impressed Rayzor. He’d seen worse and won. He sucked in a deep breath and slammed his shoulder into THX238’s chest.

  The little human was right behind them. Not running away to safety like he’d told her to. Maybe humans weren’t very smart.

  The Mandible moved his arms, leaned forward and wrapped Rayzor in a six-armed death grip, squeezing the life out of him. Rayzor grunted. His armor strained and creaked against the incredible strength of his foe. He heard an exhaust vent blow at the crease between his shoulder and his arm.

  “Warning, battle suit reaching maximum overload.”

  “Fucking Mandible,” Rayzor repeated. His muscles tightened. He planted his feet in the ground and dug in.

  “Fucking Bounty Hunter,” the Mandible replied in perfect Xylan.

  Rayzor’s nostrils flared, but he dismissed the barb and focused on his objective. THX238 might be a genocidal maniac, but his culture fought without weapons. Rayzor held no such compulsion. His fingers strained and brushed against the hilt of the blade stored in the torso of his battle suit. Just a little farther—

  He saw something flash out of the corner of his eye. The human? What was she doing? The little female was behind the Mandible and obviously bent on suicide. He heard a pop, and then the warrior in front of him grunted, its many-armed grip loosening around Rayzor’s torso. THX238 fell to the ground with a decisive thud.

  Rayzor stared, slack-jawed, at the tableau in front of him.

  A heavy, jagged stone fell from the human’s fingers. Rayzor eyed the Mandible, seeing the rise and fall of its chest. She’d knocked the warrior out. His little human had found THX238’s one weak spot and used this to her advantage.

  Impressive.

  She said something in her strange Earth language he couldn’t understand, gesturing to the Mandible on the ground. It was then that he noted she was standing uneven. He looked down at her feet. The female was stuck. She’d managed to hit the Mandible from her stationary position, taking her one shot when they’d moved close in front of her.

  Brave little creature.

  She lifted her chin, and he could make out her face more clearly in the moonlight. Her features were oddly smooth, no ridges to distinguish on her forehead. And her skin, her skin was so colorless it seemed to glow. He frowned. He’d never seen a species so lacking in pigment. She was the strangest creature he’d ever seen, and he’d seen a lot. And by the gods, she was incredibly ugly. Rayzor let out a puff of air and strode forward. He needed to tranq her anyway and wipe her memory. This was convenient. He wouldn’t have to waste valuable time searching for her.

  Her eyes widened as he neared. He noted that they were the color of the sky near his farm. She spoke again. It was pleasant enough sounding, but he had no idea what she was saying. He hadn’t bothered to add a translator implant in his brain. He didn’t think he’d see enough Earthlings on this mission for it to matter. THX238 had landed in a remote location in the middle of the humans’ sleep cycle. Rayzor had planned on being in and out without having met a single human. But here was one lonely female he had to take care of. He snorted. At least she hadn’t been killed.

  She said something again and gestured to her foot. Now that his target had been acquired, Rayzor didn’t need his armor. He willed his helmet and his gloves to retract. The human made a noise. Rayzor looked at her and could see fear clearly stamped across her alien features. He accepted it as his tribute. Xylans from the hot reaches of Chronos were always feared, as they should be. His was a warrior race, based on honor and loyalty. All other beings feared Xylans. Pride for his species warmed in his chest.

  He crouched next to her and studied the spot where her foot was jammed into the ground. He placed his hands on her strange, colorless skin and easily dislodged the stuck limb. Touching her with his bare hands wasn’t as unpleasant as he’d originally assumed. In fact, he continued to touch her. The sensation was…enjoyable. Her skin was warm and soft underneath his palms, her legs…attractive. The discrepancy between her non-color and his royal pigment proved to be unexpectedly pleasing.

  A buzz began to fill his ears. His jaw clenched. His heart began to thunder against his chest. His breathing grew faster. What was this? He examined his physical reactions. This wasn’t simple exertion from stalking his prey, his target. That, he was used to. He’d done this on hundreds of planets, in all corners of the four sectors of the known universe; this was nothing new.

  His palm moved up her smooth leg. She said something and tried to pull away. He held on to her, his hand exploring. Where was this coming from, this compulsion to caress this Earthling? The thundering in his chest continued. He needed more of this, more of her. His cock hardened beneath his armor. Rayzor froze in shock. This had never happened in his thirty cycles. Never in his life had he felt this adrenaline and lust rush through his body. Never had he experienced a stiff cock or any type of sexual need until this very moment.

  He met her gaze, looked into exotic blue eyes—a color no one on Xylan possessed—and noticed how intelligent she was, gazing back at him with bottomless curiosity. And how…beautiful.

  Beautiful? Why had he thought that? Why would he consider this non-colored, flat-faced and freakish, tiny creature to be beautiful? Why—?

  His breath caught in his throat.

  My Be’Ih.

  The thought reverberated in his brain and pinged throughout his body. The knowledge sat there, like a command from on high.

  This Earthling was his Bride.

  Xylans did not breed until they met their Bride, and a male might never meet his Bride, or he could meet her immediately upon reaching age—it was a gamble. But unlike most Xylans, Rayzor had never expected to meet his mate. His family had been banished from Xylan for two generations due to his father’s status as a traitor. His line had been separated and dispersed throughout the systems as punishment for his father’s dishonor. Rayzor hadn’t seen a female Xylan in the flesh in over ten years. And then there was his lowly status among Xylans as a Bounty Hunter…between the two, no family of good standing would ever submit a daughter of their house to Rayzor as a possible candidate for mating.

  It had been heard of for Xylans to mate with other breeding-compatible species, but this was extremely rare. Rayzor lived and worked so far out of the edges of normal society, he had long ago resigned himself to the knowledge that the chances of him finding his mate, his Bride, were nonexistent. He would be the last of his line, live and die a virgin, never experiencing the rush of passion, the joy of a Bride and offspring. He lived a simple life, bringing the scum of the universe in for judgment, or working on his farm. His only joy was in the home he’d created on his exile planet, Zamarian Prime. Zamaria was advanced enough for him to settle on, but lightly popu
lated, and the natives were Xylan allies. The weather was harsh in the winter, but the rest of the year it was mild, and Rayzor kept local livestock and hired Zamarians to tend his farm while he was gone. He enjoyed the peace there while waiting for his next assignment. He’d always understood and enjoyed animals more than he did other beings.

  Rayzor continued to stare at his Bride, reveling in the changes brought forth in his body. She struggled to move away from him. He let her go and stood up, still staring at her in awe.

  Did Earthlings find mates, too? Did she understand the ritual?

  Her chin lifted, and that alien face showed all her emotions. It was interesting…refreshing. The lack of ridges made the skin more pliable. She inhaled, her jaw clenched, and she spoke to him now in a tone that displayed anger. He didn’t know why and he didn’t care. He could barely hear her over the thundering in his chest.

  He felt like an unleashed curshchal without a handler.

  He reached a hand behind the human’s head and cupped her neck, pulling her forward, and slammed his lips down on hers. She gasped and struggled for release. He grunted and slipped his tongue between her lips. His Bride. He’d never kissed a female before, never had the desire and didn’t know how this was done. Instinct led him, and instinct must work because she melted, her body loosened, and her hands gripped his biceps.

  Xylans only had sexual desire for their mate, their needs lying dormant until the moment of revelation.

  And by the gods, this was revealing.

  The human continued to kiss him. Her teeth were smooth, her lips soft. She tasted of rare Ambison and the Garvian fruit that grew outside his window at home. Of course his Bride would taste like no other. He’d waited all his life to find her.

  Rayzor broke free of the kiss and looked down at the human he was holding in his grasp. Her breath was harsh, her pupils large. Through his suit of armor, he could calculate all her reactions, the rate of her breathing, her temperature. He grinned. She was also experiencing this.