Syrin's Mate

by Michele Mills

  Syrin nodded. This was fair. “She might not want you. That is her choice, too.”

  “Oh, she’ll want me. I’m irresistible. She’ll forget about you. Or she’ll want that horny, green-ass bastard. He’s rough around the edges but the females love him.”

  “I thought he had a female waiting for him on his home world… Where is he?”

  “He’s checking out the mess hall, trying to find out early which of the inmates thinks they’re in charge so we can kick his ass in front of the other prisoners and make our point.”

  “Good plan.”

  The female turned and met his gaze. And smiled at him. And even though he’d originally thought of her as an ugly, colorless being with odd hair—he found himself dazzled by that smile. Her teeth were smooth, no fangs. She had no ridges of honor on her forehead. There were five crowded fingers on each hand, with those same smooth endings. She seemed defenseless and soft. And instead of being disgusted, he was mesmerized. She was physically soft and yet verbally tough, a combination that caused him to look at her twice. Or three or four times…

  “Since she’s in your cell and will be with us most of the time, that means all three of us are protecting her then,” Trax commented.

  “Yes,” Syrin answered. “And we can put her to work.”

  “How? What can she do? She’s a weak human.”

  Syrin grinned. “That’s what our enemies will all think. That’s she’s just human. Until she slips a knife in their back. We’ll train her.”

  “Aaah. Now I see your plan.”

  Sara rubbed at the goosebumps on her arms. The teeny-tiny prison cell was giving her bad visions of the cramped garret under the stairs she’d slept in as a child growing up on New Earth.

  She glanced over her shoulder. Syrin had positioned himself by the entrance. He stood there, his arms crossed, like a statue of a giant warrior commemorating a long-ago battle. She wasn’t sure why he wasn’t interested in at least a cursory glance at their shared cell but decided it was none of her concern. He wasn’t her boyfriend. He wasn’t even her friend. He was a “bodyguard” she’d conned into protecting her. Well, maybe it wasn’t a full-on con. She really might be able to help him. At least she’d try. When she said she’d have his back, she meant it.

  Her word was her bond.

  She’d always been poor, having to fight and scrabble hard for what she had in life. If she didn’t have anything material to give, she at least had her honor, her hard work, and her word. And her word meant everything.

  Sara moved around the cell, trying to understand what she was up against. There were two narrow bunks, well, slabs of metal, that jutted out from the wall, one on top of the other. At least there were two beds in here so they didn’t have to share one. That would’ve been awkward.

  A little bit of walking space. A toilet? At least it looked like a simplified toilet. No walls around it, zero privacy…that was great. How she was supposed to use this while the male was so near, she had no idea. And there was a tiny motion-sensor water spigot. The drain was a thin groove in the floor that washed the water out onto the hallway. And she guessed that only would work during the day, when the door was open.

  She turned around in the cramped cell. That was it. No towels or blankets, nothing but the hard metal surfaces. She put both of her arms out. The fingertips of her left hand brushed against the wall and the tips of her right hand touched the side of the bunk.

  This was her new home for the foreseeable future, which she was sharing with this huge stranger.

  She glanced again at the giant Xylan still in the doorway. Gleaming rows of bronze-black hair skimmed the top of the entrance. The enormity of this male continued to surprise her.

  His lips were moving. That was weird. Was he talking to someone?

  She stepped forward. “Who are you—” Her words cut off as she moved over the threshold and onto the hallway and saw…The Creekan? Lizard-guy was standing next to Syrin. Her eyes widened. The same guy they’d arrived in transport with, the one who’d boasted about his plans for busting out of prison.

  He winked at her. Or at least she thought it was a wink. The film of one eye rolled down and back up again. It was actually kind of pretty. Not that she’d tell him that.

  He was leaning out of the cell next door, next to Syrin, and they’d been chatting because, apparently, they were all now neighbors. The Creekan was iridescent green with large eyes and a bit of a snout that ended on a wide mouth with pointy teeth. He was built. Not as tall as the Xylan, but still tall. His forearms and neck, which were exposed from his orange jumpsuit, were covered in tiny, gleaming, dark green scales. He seemed like a badass on his own. Maybe he really could bust out of this prison.

  He looked her up and down. “Aaah. It’s the human who wants to break out of here as much as I do.”

  She lifted her chin. “And it’s the Creekan who thinks he’s better than Regis Yerty.”

  The Lizard-guy crossed his scaly arms. “I am better than Regis Yerty.”

  She crossed her arms too. “No one is better than Regis Yerty.” Because, really, it was true, how could this male boast of being better than Regis Yerty? It was nonsensical.

  “Then why is he dead and I’m alive?”

  She chuckled, unable to hide her response to his comeback. It was a good one, she had to admit.

  Sara noticed Syrin’s lips twitched at their exchange. Warmth spread across her chest. Because being, even partly, the cause of this grim warrior’s smile—that was a win.

  And right then the fourth member of their initial intake group—the guy with green skin and horns on his head, strode up, too. His hair was black and long down his back. His orange prison jumpsuit a striking contrast against the color of his skin.

  Lizard-guy lifted his chin and stood up straighter. Syrin met green guy’s gaze and lifted his chin, too. The new guy walked right up alongside the other two males and stared at her with open curiosity as if waiting for an explanation about her presence in their little trifecta…

  Hold. On.

  She pointed at them. “Wait, the three of you are friends? You know each other?”

  “Yes,” Syrin answered. “We broke the law together in the same sector, on the same day, for similar transgressions and were sent to the same prison.”

  “Oh.” She wondered what they’d done to get thrown in prison. But since she wasn’t ready to reveal why she was here, it didn’t seem like a good time to ask about their journey. Time enough for show and tell later.

  “You have friends?” she asked Syrin, surprised at this turn of events, because a berserker with friends was a good thing, right? How bad could his behavior be if he had actual friends? She looked over at the Creekan. “Why do you stay friends with him if he’s a berserker and could kill you at any moment?” she asked, genuinely curious.

  “Why did you stand up for him with the guards, and when you were thrown in the same cell as him, asked him for your protection?” the Creekan countered.

  True. He had a point.

  “I am Xylan,” Syrin responded. As if that explained everything. Although, weirdly, it did.

  “Don’t worry so much about this one hurting you,” Lizard-guy offered. “He seems like an out-of-control asshole, but…my name is Trax and this green-horn is Rengeli. And we’re here to rein Syrin and his berserker in, like always.”

  “Oh. Um, it’s nice to finally meet you. To meet the both of you.”

  Trax looked over at the frowning Rengeli. “I’ll explain her presence to you later. For now, the short version is she’s sharing Syrin’s cell and he’s her protector. So that means we’re stuck protecting her, too.”

  They were? She couldn’t help the smile that brightened her face. Three big males watching her back in this hell-hole was certainly better than one. This was terrific news!

  Rengeli blew out a breath, obviously not happy at having to look out for her weak ass. He and Syrin had a stare off, which, fortunately for her, the Xylan won. Apparently
these two were males of few words. Rengeli finally looked away, toward the open-air area of the prison, at least six floors down. “Let’s go,” he said. “We need to eat before the mid-cycle meal is closed.”

  “Did you find the one we need to deal with?” Syrin asked.

  Rengeli smirked. “Oh yeah, I found him. Let’s go and show him who’s boss.”

  The four of them walked down a hallway along the row of cells in their section. The open cell doors were lined to her right, and to her left was a railing. Beyond that Sara could see out and up a few more floors and down five more to the bottom level, which held the central mess hall, a place where other prisoners were congregating at tables, eating and talking. Some standing in groups and some alone. She could hear their voices floating up to where she was, five floors above. She looked around as she walked, taking it all in. Intimidated by how big it all was. She felt like a little grain of sand in the desert.

  Luckily, in this part of the prison, the air actually smelled fresh. The air circulation system was doing a damn good job with all those sweaty bodies in an enclosed space.

  The Detention Center was one of the biggest in the four sectors, taken up partially by the space dock they’d initially arrived on. She hadn’t seen an agricultural dome on her way in, nothing but black and gray heavy metal. 149 was a station with a reinforced shell and only one way in and one way out. Basically, it looked like a military outpost. She assumed all supplies had to be shipped in because without that dome it wasn’t a fully functioning terra station like her former home base, Omega 9 in the third sector. Omega 9 was as good as living on a planet. Well, it was better than a planet—better than New Earth. There had been three enormous domed agricultural units, cavernous spaces with bright atmospheric simulation. Holo decks. Spacious living quarters. It had been a great place to live. A blessing compared to her life on New Earth.

  This place was the pit of hell in comparison.

  Other prisoners passed by them in the hall. Some small, some big. None of them looked welcoming or cheerful. There were a variety of species, representing all the planets in the four sectors. She didn’t see any other humans, or females. It never ceased to fascinate her, trying to figure out other species and their cultures. She’d grown up in isolation on New Earth, so seeing other species in real life and not on a black-market vid, this never grew old.

  The prisoners all wore the same orange jumpsuits, and as they walked by, the inquisitive eyes of the other inmates skimmed over the newcomers, passing over the Xylan, Creekan and the “green-horn” and landing on her and staying there. Many of them stopped and stared at her, they seemed to recognize her. And it wasn’t hunger and desire for a female that filled their features, no, they instead seemed to be saturated with rage. Darkened eyes, closed fists, bared fangs and growling throats.

  She assumed she would be the object of unwanted attention because she was the only female in the prison, but this rage surprised her.

  But then actually, it shouldn’t. Sara knew she was the most reviled being in the four sectors. They thought she’d killed Cylo Rin, the most beloved celebrity in the known universe. Which was bullshit, because of course she hadn’t killed Cylo Rin. But who was going to believe her?

  No one.

  She’d insisted on her innocence throughout every interrogation and still here she was, locked up. Throughout the four sectors her picture had been posted—The Murderer of Cylo Rin! Universally hated. If she hadn’t met these guys who were now protecting her, she realized she’d already be someone’s bitch and probably on a bunk with her legs spread for alien cock.

  Even here, on the edge of the four sectors, among hardened criminals, they hated her, too?

  She shivered with disgust. No wonder the guards had been betting on how long she’d last. Without Syrin and his friends she’d be as good as dead. And even with Syrin, her chances of surviving this place and making it out alive were still slim and none.

  She lifted her chin. She had to make it. Had to. She’d survived her childhood, leaving her home planet and restarting her life, she could survive this, too.

  The three males surrounded her as they walked, keeping her in the middle of their foursome. Syrin was next to her, his side brushing against her when they turned corners or moved to avoid other inmates. Each time a shiver of fire ran down her body. And each time he acted as if it were nothing.

  Dear gods, living with a handsome male who did not feel one ounce of desire for her was already proving to be her own personal hell.

  As they strode down the hall the other inmates scrambled out of their way.

  All of the species continued to turn and gape at them as their group strode down the hallway. Trax, with his shiny black-green scales over thickly muscled arms. Rengeli with his intense stare and stride that looked like he was ready to plow down anyone who tried to step in front of him. And Syrin…Syrin was damn scary. He was the biggest and looked like he could eat everyone else here for lunch.

  Wow, these males were badass.

  Sara lifted her chin and walked a little taller, trying to fit in with all the badass-ness surrounding her. Trying being the operative word.

  They crowded into a lift, which was comical. There was barely enough room for all four of them. Trax and Rengeli were in front of her and Syrin behind. And her back was pressed against the berserker’s front. She looked down, trying to hide her pink cheeks. He probably thought she was doing it on purpose. Sara tried to scoot forward to create more space between her and the berserker, but all that happened was she ended up closer to the other two males.

  Ugh.

  Syrin placed a claw on her hip and pulled her back. “Stay,” he ordered.

  Why was he torturing her with his touch?

  Warmth spread across her belly and heat pooled between her thighs. She was sure, for Syrin, this touch through two layers of clothing was nothing but his duty. Protection.

  To her it was everything.

  So, so embarrassing. She tried her best to keep her breaths steady, her heartbeats even.

  The lift stopped and they were on the bottom level of the prison. The doors swooshed open and beings in orange jumpsuits were milling about everywhere.

  They stepped out into the commotion of the mess hall, keeping the same formation around her.

  Immediately, the hissing and booing began.

  And the comments. Oh, the comments.

  “Isn’t that the female who killed Cylo Rin?”

  “It’s true, she’s here.”

  “She killed him, I watched the video.”

  “Kill the bitch.”

  Sara sucked in a breath, her whole body tightening. Their collective rage seemed to stab her in the chest because…they all hated her. All of them.

  “What are they discussing?” Syrin asked, clearly confused.

  “They hate your female,” Trax gritted.

  “They hate the female? Why?” he asked.

  Rengeli looked around, eyed the angry crowd forming around them, and turned to tag her with an outraged glare.

  Shit.

  She pressed her lips together and looked sheepishly at Syrin. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know it would follow me here, too. I promise, I didn’t know.”

  “What would follow you here?”

  An enormous male shoved other beings aside and stepped in front of their group, blocking their path. He was almost as tall as Syrin and his whole body seemed to be made of stone. Four red eyes glared at her with single-minded determination. “Give her up now,” he growled at the males who protected her, “give her to us, and we’ll let the rest of you live.”

  Syrin stepped forward, grabbed the inmate and shoved two claws up into the guy’s nose. Sara squeaked with surprise. The giant prisoner roared with pain. Syrin lifted the being up off the ground by the nose, using only one arm. It was disgusting and awe-inspiring at the same time.

  Trax strutted forward into a large space in the crowd that had opened around Syrin and the squirming inmate. Rengeli s
tayed at her side.

  “This is how it’s going to be,” Trax boomed, making sure the entire floor was able to hear his announcement. “You touch me or my two friends and you’re dead. You touch the female and you’re dead. You want to stay alive? Leave. Us. Alone.” He pointed at her. “And this female is ours. We don’t care who you think she killed on the outside and your plans for revenge. Forget it. The three of us protect her. She’s the Xylan’s to use as he pleases. You hurt her and you’re dead.”

  Four

  Sara sat at the table trying to eat, even though the disturbing image of Syrin’s claws drilling up another being’s bleeding nostrils was still flashing through her mind.

  The four of them sat together. Trax and Rengeli on one side, and she and Syrin on the other side. Syrin purposely set it up like this. She was boxed into a corner of the mess hall. To her right was a wall, behind her more wall, with Syrin seated to her left. With the other two males seated across from her, she was fully protected.

  Damn, this male was amazing.

  They all ate the crappy food offered in the mess hall. The food dispenser was set to produce only one thing—a tasteless gray gruel with a springy mystery meat. Sara forced herself to consume her only source of nutrition.

  The other inmates left them wide berth. There were still glares and bared teeth, but they stayed away, in fear of their lives. Which was fine with Sara.

  The three males hadn’t said much after they’d made their initial alpha warrior pronouncement to the other inmates. The balance of power on 149 had shifted at that moment and the prisoners had been shown what would happen if they messed with any of their group. The crowd had dispersed and the four of them had moved on to get food. But things were tense between Sara and her bodyguards. She knew they were angry. They had to be angry. If the roles were reversed she’d be pissed as hell, too, to be saddled with the female who’d killed Cylo Rin.

  Although she hadn’t killed Cylo Rin. She hadn’t.

  Rengeli ate quietly, his jaw clenched. Angry but silent.