Braxtyn (Mated to the Alien, #8)

by Kate Rudolph

  Of course they were worried. Even in his darkest moments Brax knew his family worried for him. He had to find a way to get out of captivity and back to them. Or at least contact them. He wouldn’t leave them to wonder what had happened to him, to wonder if he was lying dead or injured somewhere, if there was anything he could do to avoid it.

  With that in mind, Brax took stock of himself. He was a bit stiff from sleeping on the hard floor, and his stomach grumbled with hunger, but he wasn’t injured. That cuff had prevented him from fighting and that, in turn, had prevented injury. He’d rather be injured and free on Earth than... wherever he was, but he couldn’t dwell on that right now.

  He cautiously got to his feet and stretched his muscles as best as he could. A grand idea of somehow circumventing the locked door and overpowering whoever was guarding him and flying the ship flashed through his mind, but Brax was no fighter. Sure, he’d won a few brawls in his time, but barroom scuffles were a completely different beast. The woman who’d captured him had known what she was doing. She’d had him under her power in less than a minute and she hadn’t even used a weapon. But he didn’t doubt that she knew how to fire a blaster or wield a knife. Someone who could slip a control cuff on that easily had to know her way around the galaxy’s dangerous toys.

  He’d have to be smart, cunning, if he was going to get out of this mess alive. He didn’t know how to fly a ship or battle a trained fighter, and all he knew was that he was being taken to someone who thought he owed a debt. At least this Roski person wanted him alive. That was when he’d have his best opportunity to get out of this mess. He doubted Roski would be happy to just let him go, but unless the guy was some Oscavian lordling he couldn’t control whatever planet or space station Brax’s captor was taking him to. That was when he could make his escape.

  If his captor didn’t put that cuff on him again.

  Before experiencing it himself, Brax might have been arrogant enough to believe he could fight the control. But it had been like all his willpower had melted away the second that thing clamped onto his wrist. He couldn’t even think of fighting, couldn’t think at all. He rubbed his wrist, but the skin wasn’t raw. There was no indention where it had pressed against his flesh, nothing but the memory of those horrible minutes before everything had gone black.

  Okay. He had to find a way to make sure the cuff wouldn’t work if it got put on him again. That was a problem he could attempt to solve. With no tools. In a dark room. With no idea how long it would be before they made it to their destination.

  No. He wasn’t going to think about the obstacles now, only the solution.

  The sounds of the ship got louder, and it took Brax a moment to realize someone was coming his way. He sank back down onto the ground, unwilling to look like a threat. If his captor thought he was threatening her, she’d put the cuff back on him before he could even try to circumvent it.

  His worry was unfounded. A slat opened in the door and a tray was pushed through. “Dinner time.” Her voice was low and caused his gut to clench.

  Lust and disbelief warred within him. This woman had taken him prisoner. She was holding him captive and planning to deliver him to some nefarious end. And instead of feeling revulsion, his cock was twitching.

  “Why are you doing this?” He didn’t think he could convince her to let him go, but he’d be a fool not to try.

  “You can’t outrun your debts. I’m not doing anything.” The tray rattled. “Do you want dinner or not?”

  His stomach growled, but Brax had other questions. “Is it drugged?”

  She scoffed. “Why would I need to drug you?”

  Good point, and he was relieved, not that he would take her word for it. “You have the wrong person,” he said as calmly as he could, but panic was starting to creep up. “This has been a misunderstanding. Please.”

  The tray clattered to the ground, food rolling all around. “Don’t lie to me, NaZade. You won’t like what happens.” The slat slammed shut, cutting off the little bit of light that had trickled in and leaving Brax alone once more.

  Yeah, that had gone about as well as expected.

  He got on his hands and knees and carefully collected the bits of food his captor had brought him. It didn’t seem to be much more than a few protein bars and a container of water. But the protein bars were wrapped in a crinkly metallic material and the water bottle was sturdy. Not ideal tools, but it was all he had. And it would have to do.

  VITA COULDN’T WAIT for NaZade to be someone else’s problem. The job might have gone easier than many of the ones she’d pulled before, but something about this whole situation wasn’t sitting right with her.

  First of all, a deranged part of her wanted to believe the welcher when he said she had the wrong man. All of her marks said something like that. And it had never been true. She’d run hundreds of missions like this, collected countless bounties from Roski, and every last one of the marks she tagged was in Roski’s bad books. There was no reason to believe that NaZade was any different. Sure there was an innocent look about him, but innocent looks could be purchased with the dirtiest of money and they meant less than nothing.

  He wasn’t innocent. He couldn’t be.

  Still...

  She huffed out a frustrated breath and threw herself into her pilot’s seat. Her shuttle was small enough that she could pilot and crew the vessel all alone. It was ideal for a bounty hunter, even if it meant she had no one to bounce her doubts off of. Not that she’d admit them if there was someone else on the ship. Someone other than NaZade the liar.

  He wasn’t the most attractive bounty she’d ever chased down, and yet it was his image that was burned in her eyes. His scent that tickled her senses and made her wonder just what he’d look like in her quarters, tied up for reasons that had nothing to do with returning him to Roski and everything to do with driving him mad with pleasure.

  She groaned. How long had it been since she’d last taken a lover? It had been job after job after job for the better part of a year and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken any down time. She didn’t go to bed with anyone while she was on the hunt, that way led to sloppiness. But maybe it was time for a vacation.

  But first she had to return Braxtyn NaZade to Roski.

  She called up the file she’d been sent and read through it again. Every bit of information in the file matched up with the man. Her DNA scanner had confirmed the ID, he’d confirmed his name. What more could she check? She pulled her DNA scanner out again to enter the test results but when she tried to power it up it gave an angry beep and went dark.

  Broken.

  Again.

  She tossed the device in the corner and cursed. Things around her were always breaking. Roski paid well for the bounties she brought in, but it was an expensive business to run and keeping her ship in the air cost a lot. Sometimes that meant skimping on other things. But just because her scanner was cheap didn’t mean it was inaccurate. After all, every time she brought someone in Roski’s people confirmed her results. They wouldn’t just take in the wrong people.

  For a second she wondered if maybe they would, but she quickly rejected the thought. Roski had rescued her from being returned to slavery. And even if he was somehow involved in the practice, which she was certain he wasn’t, there were much cheaper ways to go about collecting people. He only sent bounty hunters after those who owed him the biggest debts. Anything less than tens of thousands of credits just wasn’t worth it.

  The screen displaying NaZade’s features flickered and then went black. Vita leaned forward and smacked it, hoping that might fix the issue, but it didn’t. There was another thing on the list to fix.

  She flicked several of the switches on her dash, hoping one of them might bring the screen to light. That sent other lights dancing on and off, and when something started to give a high-pitched mechanical whine, Vita stopped tinkering. Could she afford vacation and a mechanic? Only if she called staying in a cheap room on some low rent space s
tation a relaxing week.

  If she thought about it too hard she was going to punch the screen, and that was certainly not going to do a thing to fix it.

  She engaged her comm and sent a signal to Roski’s base. It took a minute for it to be answered, but the robotic voice came through loud and clear. At least her speakers were still working.

  “Enter access code to be connected.”

  “Minnick 5235218. Retrieval.” She wished there was a more direct line, but Roski loved his systems and calling into the central number was her only way to connect.

  “One moment please,” the AI requested.

  Vita didn’t have another choice.

  One moment passed into another and as time ticked on Vita worried that her speaker had died. But before she could give up hope another voice, this one belonging to a person rather than a machine, came on. “Vita, my dear, what do you have for me?” Roski had to be in his sixties, but nothing about his voice gave that away, and if her screen had been working she doubted he’d look a day over forty. He had enough money to buy all the rejuvenation and enhancement that the universe had to offer, and on that he hadn’t scrimped. Vita might have held that kind of vanity against someone else, but never Roski.

  “I’m bringing in another retrieval.” There was an entire automated system to track jobs, but Roski always appreciated when his favorites called in their progress.

  “How many is that this year?” Astonishment laced his words. “When was the last time you slept?”

  “I get plenty of sleep, you old hen,” she assured him with a grin. “But I’ll probably take a week or so when this is done. I could use with the recharge.”

  “And you deserve it. There’s no collar around your neck. Don’t work like there is.”

  Vita was glad for the faulty video connection since she couldn’t keep the scowl off her face. She didn’t need to be reminded of how she’d spent her youth and gained so many of her scars. But Roski was just looking out for her. She wasn’t the only person he’d helped recover from the horrors of slavery and he knew all the possible pitfalls someone like her could succumb to. That didn’t mean she wanted to talk about it.

  “I had a question about this retrieval. Could you send a fresh copy of the bounty order?” She’d read the file on her end a dozen or more times, but something was still bugging her. What was it about Braxtyn NaZade that set him apart from every other thief she’d chased? Why did a part of her—a tiny part of her—want to get into his cage with him and see where the night would take them?

  Lust and madness. She wouldn’t succumb.

  “Is there an issue?” Roski asked.

  “You know I just like to be thorough.” She wasn’t sure why she kept her doubts to herself. She trusted Roski down to her blood and bones, and she knew he respected her instincts. The man wasn’t so blinded by money or fury that he would want her to bring back an innocent man, but she also didn’t want him to worry for nothing.

  “After Wefrare I’m not surprised.” He said it mildly, but Vita flinched.

  Wefrare. Fuck. She hated when Roski brought that mess up, even if she deserved it. She’d cost him nearly a million in damages when the repairs were all tallied, injured two of his crew, and lost the bounty. She was lucky he hadn’t slapped her in chains and sold her on to pay for the cost. Of course, she’d never catch enough at the slave markets to be worth the trouble. Vita hadn’t put a toe out of line in the three years since that screw up and she’d thought Roski was over it, but apparently not.

  She cleared her throat, unsure of how to acknowledge that bomb. “Can you send the file?”

  “I’m afraid it will take a few days. Something got in and corrupted our main servers. Nasty little virus. I have my techs working hard to restore everything, but even they cannot work miracles.” At least when he spoke this time he wasn’t frustrated with her.

  “I’ll be there by then.” The flight to Station 163 was quick once she made it to the interstellar gates that let her ship skip through the galaxy despite its sometimes faulty FTL drive. “Don’t worry about it, I’m sure everything is fine.”

  “Very well, I look forward to seeing you.”

  “Me too. Signing off.” She cut the call and rocked back in her chair, grimacing as it squeaked. One more thing that was ready to fall to bits. It would be so nice to have a mechanic on board, or at least a bot with a functioning AI. Maybe then the mechanics at the bays she brought her ship to between jobs wouldn’t glare at her so hard when she asked for repairs. And maybe those repairs wouldn’t eat up most of her profits.

  Then again, spending that much money on a crewmember or AI wouldn’t do much for her bank account as it was.

  Something popped, and the acrid smell of chemical smoke wafted in. Vita smacked the dashboard and cursed, but no warning light went off and they continued to cut through space, eating up the light years between them and their destination.

  One more piece to add to the repair list. And more credits to kiss goodbye.

  Chapter Four

  THE KEENING SOUND CUT through her sleeping ears and Vita curled tightly into a ball. She’d heard those kinds of cries before and she knew what they meant. The masters didn’t like it when they didn’t sleep, and being caught awake meant they’d do everything they could to wear their property out. Running up and down the hills, hauling heavy bricks across the yard and then back to their original position. Fighting one another. Worse. She’d seen it all through half-closed eyelids.

  The slaves on this property were kept outside no matter the weather. At least their pen had a sturdy roof that kept most of the rain out, and this planet was warm. No snow in the mild winters, though the heat of summer had been enough for a few of the slaves to sink into delirium. They’d been carted off to the medical bay, but Vita hadn’t seen any of them return. Whether they’d been reassigned, sold, or died was a mystery no one dared speak of. The masters didn’t like that either.

  Her collar chafed, but Vita didn’t raise a hand to adjust it. If one of her owners saw her fiddling, they’d zap her, and she’d be left with an aching body and pissed pants. If one of them noticed her chafing skin they might apply a salve, but there’d be a price. And the ache wasn’t that bad yet.

  She heard feet dragging as the keening slave was pulled from the pen and out into the yard. No one rushed the door. There was no point. The family keeping them owned the entire planet and even if they got out of the pens, there was nowhere to go. They paid well for the populace to return runaway slaves, and the whip cracked hard on those who tried to flee.

  It was a bad place to live, but somehow not as terrible as her last owners. She’d only been sold on from her last home because the lady who ruled there didn’t like the way her husband had looked at her. She’d thought Vita was trying to worm her way into his bed to earn favor and possibly freedom.

  Vita had been thirteen.

  But that husband didn’t have a taste for young flesh. Just pain. Her back still ached on the particularly chilly nights, the scars from his whip and other toys an unwelcome reminder of what it meant to be owned.

  Someone groaned next to her and Vita’s eyes snapped open.

  Braxtyn?

  What was he doing here? She didn’t know the names of many of her fellow slaves. They weren’t supposed to talk to one another without the masters present. And no matter how real this felt, she knew she was deep in a dreaming memory. Braxtyn wasn’t supposed to be there. Not ten years ago, not before it all went so horribly wrong before she righted it all in blood and vengeance.

  But she wasn’t stuck in that dream tonight, just a minor horror.

  “Be quiet,” she commanded, her words barely louder than a breath. “Close your eyes.”

  Those eyes were supposed to be black. She’d seen them in person. So why were they blazing bright blue now? Why was there a look of wonder on his face? Did he not realize they were stuck in slave pens on a planet she’d never learned the name of? Did he not care?

  His
tongue darted out to lick his lips and he seemed ready to say something before he slumped down in his position and feigned sleep.

  As a shadow fell over Vita, she knew she’d failed to do the same. Strong arms hauled her up and dragged her to the door. She tried to resist, even knowing that resistance only brought more pain. But she hadn’t slept in days. They’d worked them through the night on a building project and she’d been grateful because they’d been fed well. But her bones ached and she feared that she’d drop if they made her do any more. Only adrenaline was keeping her going now.

  She managed to get an arm free and flung herself away from the two guards carrying her. She didn’t try and hit them. Hitting them meant the whip, and she wouldn’t risk that. But her unwillingness to fight made her easy pickings, and they had her back in their arms in no time.

  “Hey!”

  Her eyes snapped to where Braxtyn had stood up. What was he doing? The attention was on her! Was the idiot trying to save her? That never worked. They’d both be worked to death. It was better to ignore the suffering of others. There was no way to stop it. So what did this stupid, weird-looking Oscavian hope to achieve?

  “Let her go!” He stepped towards them and a few of the supposedly sleeping slaves rolled out of his way while others remained still as statues. Vita couldn’t tell if they were actually asleep or just much better at faking than the rest of them.

  One of the men holding her actually laughed at Braxtyn’s bravado. Vita wanted to tell him to stop, but there was no point, and if the guards thought they were working together that would only make it worse for the both of them.

  The guard stopped laughing when claws flashed out of Braxtyn’s knuckles and he held them up in challenge. “Let. Her. Go.” The promise of violence hung in the air. Where had those claws come from? Oscavians didn’t have claws.

  The first guard reached for his blaster, but Vita couldn’t hold back any longer. Braxtyn was risking his life to try and protect her, and the least she could do was return the favor. A decade ago she would have failed, but the rules were different in her dream world and this time those rules were on her side. Before the guard could point his blaster at Brax, Vita dug her elbow into his gut and the shot went wide. He dropped the weapon and she slithered out of the two guards’ grasps, going for the blaster in the same move.