Rohn: Warriors of Sangrin

by Nancey Cummings

  Gun to the head. Dead. Knife to the gut. Dead. Gassed. Strangled. Drowned. Sliced open for dissection like a frog in high school. Dead. Dead. Dead. In the end, it didn’t matter. She couldn’t do anything to avoid it. The most she could do was speed things along.

  Now, imagining the way Levin was going to die? Super satisfying. If she had a choice, she’d ask Rohn to slice off his fingers and stuff them down his throat. She was genuinely interested in discovering if Levin would bleed out first or choke on his own fingers.

  She wasn’t even surprised by her own bloodlust, because lawyer, duh. She had always gotten a bit giddy at finding a loophole in a contract or really screwing the other party in negotiations. She just hoped she lived long enough to see Levin get his just desserts.

  Gah, did she really think that? Just desserts. How melodramatic. Still, when the Suhlik arrived, they’d eliminate him and maybe take her. Or kill her. It was a real toss-up with those guys. She hoped they killed her quickly. She had survived a lot of shit, so she felt the universe owed her at least a quick death.

  “Do not stare at me. Terran eyes are weird,” Levin said. He waved the gun at her.

  Nakia continued to stare, wanting to transmit every bad thing she imagined happening to him.

  He turned his back to her, focusing on the lantern on the ground. No, not a lantern. A beacon. It glowed with a soft amber light, casting a long shadow behind Levin. His shoulders slumped and briefly Nakia saw a man in pain, rather than a maniac. Pain warped people. Some bent but bounced back. Others were forever misshapen, desperate to spread their anguish, as if that could ease their burden. Nakia wondered if that might have been her. If Rohn hadn’t held her hand when she was scared. If her parents hadn’t given her their total devotion and encouragement.

  In the distance, something exploded. The boom of detonation echoed through the air but the ground did not shake. For a moment, Nakia was transported back to the Invasion, back to be being a helpless kid trapped under a building, listening to the world end.

  Her breath caught in her throat and she hated this. Well, the kidnapping and looming death—obviously—but the situation in general. It wore on her, living on the battlecruiser, always ready for conflict, with Rohn working all hours to keep the fleet of ships prepared to deploy, and the endless worry if Rohn would ever leave the ship on a mission, like Carrie worrying over her husband. At first she didn’t even notice, but all the Mahdfel were prepared to fight. They were made to fight.

  She refused live that way, never knowing if the day would be peaceful or violent. If she survived this—she would—she wanted to visit Rohn’s ocean-front house, the one he was too busy to spend any time at. It would be selfish of her, she knew, to insist that Rohn put her first, before his duty to his clan, but she was very likely going to die. If she didn’t, she’d be a total diva with her requests. She was pregnant and needed to be spoiled at least as much as he spoiled the dang cat.

  Determination settled over her like a mantle. She couldn’t give up. Too many people needed her. The baby needed her. Rohn and even the cat needed her. Her parents. She refused to allow herself to be murdered by some maniac murderer on a dusty moon. Not today. Not ever.

  Nakia twisted her wrists, trying to work the cords loose. Every time Levin turned his back, she pulled and twisted. No joy yet, if she didn’t mind dislocating a thumb. Actually, at this point, she’d take it. The paralytic had worn off and she felt confident in her ability to run. Not as fast as Levin. She’d need a distraction or injure him.

  She scanned the area for potential weapons. A rock? Maybe if she hit him in a sensitive spot, like the base of his horns.

  Levin jumped up and growled.

  Nakia lunged for the rock, expecting to be struck again. She fell gracelessly to the ground, her knees taking the brunt of the impact, but she had the rock. Too small, it would have to do. She struggled to her feet, expecting to be pushed down. When nothing happened, she turned around, clutching her rock awkwardly.

  Rohn grappled with Levin. He knocked the male down, his moves efficient and brutal. He struck out at the eyes, the nose, the horn, and the knees. From where she watched, Nakia had a sense that he was fighting dirty and she loved it.

  The amber light flickered. The beacon. She smashed the rock down on the interface, cracking the screen. Hopefully that terminated the signal.

  Using a shard of the broken display, she sawed at the cord binding her hands. The jagged edges cut her fingers, making the shard slippery as she bled.

  “I will end you,” Rohn said. He did not shout. He spoke calmly, in the gravest voice, which made it more terrifying.

  This was taking too long. She’d never get her hands free. Frustrated, she picked up the beacon. It had a decent heft, much better than the rock, and brought it down on the back of Levin’s head.

  The medic staggered, the gun he held discharged. Rohn clutched his side but wasted no time, he drew his blade and made one clean motion across the male’s throat. Blood sprayed Rohn as he stood impassively while the man clutched at the gash. Levin fell to his knees, then he fell over, the light gone from his eyes.

  Rohn took her in his arms. She didn’t even mind the body or the pool of blood spreading at their feet. Her shoes were ruined, but she’d only just broken them in to the point of being comfy. She wanted to laugh, because who focused on ruined shoes at a time like this?

  “Are you well?”

  Was she well? He was shot. “I’m pregnant,” she blurted out.

  He pulled back, hands still on her arms. “Truly?”

  “Yes.” She touched her stomach, hoping the baby was well. “He dosed with me something; I’m guessing the same paralytic Kalen used on you. I don’t know what that will do to the baby.” Please be okay. Please be okay.

  “We will find a medic.”

  She flinched.

  “A trusted medic.”

  She had spent so much of life in hospitals and doctor offices. Not once had she doubted her doctor would ignore their oath to do no harm for a personal vendetta. “Only if you’re with me. You need a doctor, too. You were shot.”

  He pulled her in tight. “I will always be with you. I have chosen you over the clan and it is a choice I will gladly make for the rest of my days. We are Team Rokia.”

  Her heart thumped. “Damn right we are. But you were shot. You’re bleeding. Shouldn’t we get to a medic now?”

  “Soon. After I tell the warlord of my intention to retire, there will be some things I need to arrange for my successor, but it should not be more than a month. Two at the most, or I start shoving males out the airlock.”

  She should laugh at the dark joke, but she was standing in a literal pool of blood, so it seemed appropriate. “Wait, retire?”

  “Yes. I will not miss another day, another hour, with you or our son.” His voiced warmed her and she wanted to believe him.

  “But this is your purpose,” she said. He used those exact words. His purpose.

  “You’ve given me a new purpose.” He placed a hand on her stomach.

  Nakia’s heart fluttered, happy and scared and she didn’t know what else. “Don’t. If you’re doing it just for the baby, don’t.” After the novelty of fatherhood wore off, when it was dirty diapers and sleepless nights—what if their son cried all the time like Valle? —he’d grow to resent her.

  “I had actually decided to retire some time ago,” he said, raising a hand to run it over his broken horn.

  Now recognizing it as a sign not of thinking, as she first assumed, but of self-chastisement, she grabbed his hand and held it to her chest. “Tell me.”

  “It was something the warlord said, about not getting the time he wanted or his mate and sons. He missed their first steps, did you know? And his sorrow was so obvious I thought, why doesn’t he retire?” Rohn shook his head. “It was like hitting myself in the face with a crowbar.” That painted a picture. “So this is me, taking my own advice, because I don’t want to miss a moment.”

  “
Are you sure?” Nakia searched his tawny eyes for any hint of doubt.

  “I’ve given everything I have to my clan for a long time now. I think it’s time I took something for myself, like a greedy male.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  Chapter 19

  Rohn

  A son. Rohn could hardly believe the words. Nakia had given him a son, and he had nearly lost them both that day.

  He called for backup and transport. If the Suhlik arrived to sniff around the beacon, they would be greeted with eager Mahdfel warriors. A shuttle arrived in moments and he gave a brief rundown of events. A few brows rose in surprise at the sight of the deceased medic, but none doubted Rohn’s justification. Levin threatened his mate. A swift death was too generous.

  Inside the shuttle, Rohn found a med pack and treated the wound on his mate’s hand. She hissed, sucking in her breath, when the cleansing foam touched the lacerations.

  “It stings,” he said with sympathy.

  “Is your mate well?” Vox peered over his shoulder, blocking the light.

  “No,” he snapped. “She is bleeding.”

  “So are you. She needs a medic.”

  Give him patience. He liked Carrie too much to injure her thick-headed mate. “Yes, she does. Take us to a medic, pilot.”

  “Oh.” Vox perked up, as if realizing that he was the pilot. “Oh!” He scrambled to the pilot’s seat. Within moments, the shuttle lifted smoothly from the ground and headed in the correct direction.

  Soon Rohn carried Nakia into the field hospital. His mate kept insisting that the wound to his gut be examined, but it did not pain him. She was more important than his mild discomfort.

  “Put her down and stop bleeding on my floor,” Kalen snapped. “Your mate appears healthy. Do not waste my time.”

  Rohn pressed a wad of gauze to his side to staunch the flow. The wound must have opened when he lifted his mate. He gave a hurried report of events to Kalen. “Levin injected my mate with a substance. She is with child.”

  Kalen already had Nakia on the examination table. He placed an oxygen mask over her mouth. “Breathe normally.” He then pressed a device to her forearm. “This will take a small blood sample.”

  “Two injections. The first he said was vitamins, but the second made it so I couldn’t move,” she explained. “Will that harm the baby?”

  Kalen glanced up from the device to Nakia but said nothing.

  “Rohn,” she said, holding out her hand. Her voice wobbled, all her gorgeous confidence gone.

  “All will be well,” he said, desperately hoping that to be true.

  * * *

  Nakia

  * * *

  She believed him. Everything would be fine. They were together. “Team Rokia, right?”

  “Yes.” He squeezed her hand.

  Too much chaos swirled inside of her. The unexpected news of her pregnancy, immediately followed by terror and panic, with little time to process anything, left her lightheaded and anxious. Everything she didn’t feel before came crashing down. Her chest tightened to the point it was hard to breathe.

  Everything would be fine.

  She was safe. The baby was safe. Everything would okay in the end.

  But she didn’t believe it. Whatever Levin injected her with could hurt the baby and what kind of mother was she, since she let that happen? She had never particularly wanted kids, but now that she was pregnant, she wanted Rohn’s baby more than anything and she’d already failed. And Rohn got shot in the stomach and no one seemed to care at all about that. What if he died? She couldn’t take care of a baby on her own. She could barely take care of her cat—

  “Nakia.” Rohn’s soothing voice pierced her haze of panic. “Breathe, love. You’re safe.”

  Safe.

  On her worst days, Rohn made her feel safe. He always had.

  “I’m scared,” she said. The mask muffled her voice. He wrapped an arm around her and she leaned in. She slipped the mask down over her nose to revel in the familiar scent of motor oil and sandalwood.

  “Me too,” he said, his confession easing her mind. They were worried together, but they were together and would face it as a united front.

  Kalen returned, his face as serious and inscrutable as ever. Surely if he had good news, he’d smile or give her a nod. Nakia prepared for the worst.

  “Good news.”

  She sighed with relief, the tension leaving her shoulders.

  “The baby is healthy. You were given a prenatal vitamin and the paralytic had no adverse effects,” Kalen said.

  “And her exposure to the atmosphere?” Rohn asked.

  Kalen removed the oxygen mask. “Oxygen levels in her blood are adequate. I wouldn’t recommend a long hike until the atmosphere generators are fully repaired. Now sit still while I clean up your hand. Did you have to cut yourself quite so deeply?” He bent over her hands, swabbing them with a solution that stung.

  “Yes. It saved my life.”

  The medic looked up sharply. “Ah. Well done, then.”

  “What about Rohn? He was shot.”

  “He’s still standing,” Kalen said, unconcerned.

  “I am fine,” Rohn said.

  “You’re not fine. You have a hole in your gut.” Why did no one care? Was it a machismo thing? “Examine Rohn, please. He could be bleeding out or… or…” She didn’t want to think about it. Too much could have gone wrong that day. They had been so lucky.

  Kalen sighed. “Females. Fine. I will tend to your mate first, since you insist. Remove the shirt.” Rohn complied. The wound appeared to be a quarter sized hole just above his left hip. The inflamed edges were ragged and oozed a dark red.

  “Why were you not wearing armor? Why does no one think to take basic precautions?” Kalen scolded. He poked the wound, clearly taking no pains to be gentle. Rohn’s abdomen muscles clenched but he made no complaint. “Everyone expects the medic to patch them up so they’re sloppy and careless. Why are you still bleeding?” Another prod. “The wound should be partially closed by now.” Kalen stood to his full height and delivered a scathing look to Rohn. “What did you do?”

  “He didn’t do anything,” Nakia said, ready to jump to her man’s defense.

  “Be at peace,” he said, giving her a reassuring smile. Turning back to Kalen, he said, “Years ago, Levin exposed me to a toxin that suppressed my natural healing. It is why my horn never healed and my vision is impaired.”

  “He did what!?” Nakia knew about the crash that took Levin’s wife, but she didn’t know that Levin was the one who shattered Rohn’s horn.

  Kalen titled his head to one side. “Levin did that?”

  “It was during amok amser,” Rohn said. “His mate perished due to my actions. That was his retribution.”

  “And my missing medic?”

  “Dead by my hand.”

  Kalen nodded. “He endangered your mate. It was no more than he deserved.”

  While the medic cleaned Rohn’s wound, another Mahdfel arrived with a small entourage. The male towered over the others, with a warm plum complexion and one partially regrown horn. He had to be someone of importance, as Kalen and Rohn both snapped to attention.

  “Warlord,” Rohn said, just before giving a hurried account of events.

  This was the warlord? Mercy described her husband as a science geek. Nothing about the towering musclebound man looked like a science geek. He looked just as terrifying as the other warlord she saw on Earth all those years ago.

  “Your mate?” the warlord asked, casting a curious gaze in her direction.

  “Well. Levin did not injure her and she is with child.” Pride colored Rohn’s voice.

  “Congratulations.” The warlord rewarded Rohn with a hearty slap to the back. The gauze and supplies which had been next to Rohn fell to the floor.

  Kalen frowned and looked like he struggled to keep his complaint to himself, but he lost in the end. “Watch it. I don’t have an infinite supply of sterile equipment.�
� He swiped the items off the floor, discarding them in a bin. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep a field hospital sterile? Impossible. That’s what it is.”

  “The colony?” Rohn asked, ignoring the medic’s complaints.

  “Twenty percent structural damage but minimal casualties, thanks to our excellent medical staff,” the warlord said. Kalen muttered but seemed pleased at the praise. “There is an ongoing conflict on the far side near the mining operation but the settlement is secure.”

  “Levin had a beacon. He sent a message to the Suhlik,” Nakia said.

  “And my mate smashed the beacon,” Rohn added.

  The warlord gave her another appraising look, his eyes a disturbing bright blue. “And you were the morsel he offered up to the Suhlik?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “We have warriors at the site. They are handling the Suhlik who were too curious to resist.”

  “Paax!” A shout rang through the crowd.

  As if following an unspoken command, the warriors distanced themselves from the warlord. He stood alone and faced another male who strode toward him.

  “Always in my medical,” Kalen muttered. The medic moved Nakia and Rohn back, then continued to work on Rohn’s wound, totally ignoring the drama.

  Nakia, however, was fascinated. The new male was not as tall as the warlord—presumably Paax—but he was built wide and solid.

  “Antomas,” Paax said.

  The two males faced each other, the air thick with tension.

  “You are not supposed to be here,” Antomas said.

  “Checking on the health of my clan? Of the colonists? Tell me how this is not a warlord’s responsibility.” A titter went through the crowd.

  Antomas frowned. “This is my mission. You are not supposed to be here. The Council is displeased.”