A Son for the Alien Warrior (Treasured by the Alien Book 2)

by Honey Phillips

  He scuffed his foot on the ground. “You miss Mama?”

  “Yes, Charlie. Very much. And I’m sure you do too.”

  He nodded and buried his face in her skirts. Cestov knelt down next to him, his heart aching.

  “It’s okay to miss them, Charlie. But we can remember how much we loved them and how much they loved us.”

  Charlie nodded, then threw his arms around Cestov’s neck. “Love you, Daddy two.”

  “And I love you, Charlie.” He stood up with the boy in one arm and gathered Mariah into the other. As he held them close, he vowed he would never let anything happen to his family.

  “Charlie, I’m going to bring the ship back here. Do you want to come along?”

  “Are we gonna fly to the stars?” the boy asked, his eyes wide.

  “Not today, son. Just back to the ranch.”

  “Yay!” Charlie cheered and grinned at the two of them, his little face happy again.

  When they arrived at the Wanderer, Whovian paled at the sight of Charlie and disappeared into his lab. Cestov had Plovac show Charlie the controls while he went to find his medic.

  “What’s wrong, Whovian? Is it Charlie?”

  “Yes and no. It’s not him, but he reminds me of what I could have had.”

  “Yes?” he asked. He had not pried into the medic’s past, but he suspected that he had found the source of his pain.

  “There was a female,” Whovian began. “She… cared for me but I was young and foolish, and I did not appreciate that gift as I should have. When she came to me and told me that she was with child, I did not believe her. I performed a test but perhaps I was impatient or perhaps I was careless, I do not know. I told her that it was negative and sent her away.”

  “What happened?”

  “I left with the next ship but to my surprise, I could not forget her. Eventually, I went back.” He looked up; his eyes so full of pain that Cestov’s breath caught. “She died—she and my child died because there was no one with the medical knowledge to assist them. It was my fault.”

  “If you would rather not stay on the ranch, do you want to accompany me into town? That might be easier.”

  “Yes. Please. I know this is a weakness, but I need more time.”

  Cestov went to say a quick goodbye to Charlie, who was too awed by the prospect of flying to protest. How much he wished he could have witnessed his son’s excitement in his first flight, but it was more important to find the culprit behind the brillat plants.

  As soon as the ship departed, he aimed the shuttle for Selo, flying overland straight towards it rather than follow the roads. Once they landed, he headed for the main store, determined to get some information from the shopkeeper. Whovian accompanied him, studying the town with interest.

  No one was in the store when he entered and Radna didn’t come bustling out to meet him. Too afraid, no doubt.

  “Radna,” he called impatiently.

  There was a faint answering moan from the back of the building. He and Whovian took off at a run. The small shopkeeper was crumpled behind a set of shelves, blood flowing from a gaping wound in his side.

  “Fuck,” Whovian swore as he reached for his satchel. He pulled out a syringe and administered a quick anesthetic, then began packing the wound with gauze. “I need to get him to a medical center. Does this godsforsaken town have anything like that?”

  “I saw a small clinic about two blocks away from here when I was looking around.”

  “It will have to do.”

  Whovian gathered the male carefully in his arms and stood up, but Radna reached out and grabbed Cestov’s sleeve.

  “Macduk,” he whispered. “Behind everything…”

  His words trailed off as his eyes fluttered shut.

  The banker? Fuck. By Granthar’s Hammer, the male was going to pay. He hurried with Whovian to the clinic. People gasped as they raced by with the small male covered with blood. If they didn’t already know something was wrong, they knew it now, he reflected grimly.

  The clinic turned out to be a neat, well-equipped medical center but there was no medic on duty. A brisk, efficient female explained that they were trying to hire someone as she led the way into the small operating room.

  “Can you assist me?” Whovian asked.

  She paled but nodded resolutely.

  “Good. Cestov, go find that bastard.”

  “You do not need me?”

  “Not unless you’ve had medical training in the past ten minutes.” He peered at the female. “Not going to faint on me, are you?”

  “I am not the fainting type,” she said tartly and Whovian’s lips quirked before he nodded at Cestov.

  “We’ll be fine. Go.”

  He nodded and took off. Clusters of people gathered in the streets, whispering to each other and staring as he went by, but he ignored them. He stalked into the bank and headed straight for Macduk’s office.

  “Wait a minute!” a young Granican clerk cried. “You can’t go back there.”

  “I’m going to see Macduk,” he growled without pausing.

  “But he’s not there.”

  He stopped and turned to face the young male. The clerk stuttered and took a step back.

  “Where is he?”

  “I’m not sure. He said something about going to visit a ranch?”

  His heart started to pound. “A ranch? Which one?”

  “I don’t know. Two of those big males showed up after lunch and locked themselves in with him.”

  “You mean the Dhalecs?”

  “Yes. I heard a lot of shouting and swearing. But then they left, and he came out a little bit later and said he had to make a visit.”

  Fuck. A thousand horrible scenarios played through his head. “But you don’t know where?”

  The clerk shook his head but Cestov couldn’t take the chance that it was unrelated. “Go to the medical clinic. Tell the medic there that I had to leave. I do not know when I’ll be back. Got it?”

  “Y-yes.”

  He raced back outside to find Servisa approaching him, his big red body head-and-shoulders above the Granicans who were gathering in even larger groups now.

  “Captain!” Servisa called. “I think I have some news.”

  “Get in the shuttle and tell me on the way,” he ordered.

  Servisa took one look at his face and didn’t argue. The two of them raced for the small vessel while his heart pounded so hard he felt sick. Maldost is there, he reminded himself. Maldost and Plovac and all the rest of the men. They would be fine. But his body didn’t believe him. His hands shook as he took off, skimming across the ground with reckless speed.

  “What did you find out?” he asked Servisa.

  “Heard a couple of the Dhalecs talking earlier. Bitching about the job being dull. One of them said at least they knew they were going to get paid because a banker always has access to money.”

  His hand clenched on the steering column. “I think he’s headed for the ranch.”

  Servisa swore and did not protest as Cestov increased his speed, pushing the small craft to its absolute limit, praying with every fiber of his being that he was not too late.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  After Cestov left, Mariah paced restlessly, unable to calm down, until she realized that she was making everyone else just as nervous. Charlie’s normal good nature had disappeared, and he had a screaming fit when she told him they couldn’t make cookies right away. By the time she got him calmed down, they were both exhausted. Even Devoji seemed unusually moody.

  Determined to find some sense of calm, she gathered all of them in the living room for some music. By the time she finished the second repetition of “Hakuna Matata,” Charlie was marching happily around the room and Devoji was smiling again. When she heard the bell, her heart skipped a beat but then she forced herself to relax. She knew the men were outside and they wouldn’t let anyone dangerous near the house.

  Leaving Devoji to look after the children, Mariah we
nt to answer the door. An older Granican stood on the veranda. He had the thick body of a well-fed male and a cloud of white hair groomed into a modest peak. He beamed as she answered the door.

  “Ah. You must be Mistress Mariah. Your mate told me so much about you.”

  “He did?”

  “Yes, of course. I’m sorry—I forgot to introduce myself. I am Macduk, President of the Selo Bank. Your mate spoke to me about transferring his brother’s accounts into his name.”

  Her tense shoulders relaxed. Cestov had mentioned his visit to the bank, as well as the fact that the banker had been one of the few to meet him without fear or suspicion.

  “I’m sorry, but he’s not here right now.” She winced internally as she realized that she had told him that they were alone. “But he’ll be back any minute,” she added hastily.

  “Good, good. Then perhaps I can come in to wait for him?”

  Damn. That hadn’t worked out the way she intended. Still, the manners that her sister had drilled into her had her opening the door and gesturing him inside. As she went to close the door, she saw Maldost watching from the entrance to the barn. He lifted an inquiring hand and after a brief moment, she nodded and waved.

  Once inside, Macduk was full of praise for both the house and the ranch.

  “I’m glad to know that you’re going to keep it in the family,” he said with a solemn nod. “These family ranches are the backbone of Granica.”

  He admired the baby and tried to make friends with Charlie, but the little boy had reverted to his earlier bad mood and merely scowled at him. Mariah and Devoji exchanged a helpless look as the older male wandered around the room, rambling on about the history of the settlement.

  “Umm, would you like some tea?” she finally asked.

  “Why, yes. That would be most delightful. The ritual of tea drinking is one of the high points of civilization…” And he was off on another seemingly endless lecture.

  Devoji returned with the tea tray and they all gathered uncomfortably in front of the fireplace.

  At least I don’t have to make polite conversation, Mariah thought as Macduk continued to pontificate, this time about the absence of manners in the younger generation.

  Claire began to fuss, and Mariah picked her up while Devoji prepared her bottle. Once the baby had been fed and returned to her cradle, she gave Macduk a fixed smile.

  “It seems like my mate has been delayed. Maybe it would be best if you return to town and I’ll let him know that you were here.”

  “Yes, yes. Perhaps that would be for the best.” He picked up his cup and sipped with every evidence of enjoyment. “Aren’t you going to have some of this excellent tea? A delightful blend.”

  If it would hurry him along… She picked up her cup and drained what was left. The tea had grown bitter from standing but she successfully suppressed her wince. Devoji also finished her cup and as soon as the young girl put it down, Mariah rose to her feet.

  “Thank you for joining us. I will be sure and give Cestov your message.”

  “Thank you for your hospitality,” he said benevolently as they walked to the door.

  She had only gone a few feet when the world started to spin. She wobbled and threw her hand out and Macduk caught it, holding onto her with surprising strength.

  “I’m sorry. I’m just a little dizzy.”

  “Perhaps you should sit down.” He led her to a chair, but her vision was growing increasingly clouded. His face swam in and out of focus, but she could tell he was smiling.

  “Wh-what’s happening to me?”

  “Just a little concoction of my mother’s. She was quite the herbalist in her day, you know.”

  Her face felt numb and unresponsive, but it must have reflected her horror because he nodded. “Yes, that’s right. She was the one who gave me the idea to sell the brillat seeds off-planet.”

  “What’s wrong, Mama?” Charlie popped up at her elbow, his blue eyes anxious.

  As much as she tried, she couldn’t speak. The last thing she saw as the world went black was Macduk’s hand covering Charlie’s mouth.

  Mariah had no idea how much time had passed when she regained consciousness, her head pounding and a bitter taste filling her mouth. Forcing her reluctant body to sit up, she scanned the room. Devoji had collapsed on the floor next to the coffee table and she could hear faint snuffling noises coming from the cradle. But where was Charlie? Both he and Macduk had disappeared. The adrenaline surging through her system gave her the strength to push herself to her feet.

  “Charlie…!” she called hoarsely, even though her sinking heart did not expect an answer. Her gaze went to the front door. Macduk had to have left through there and surely, someone would have stopped him if he had Charlie with him. She staggered in that direction, her knees unsteady. Her trembling hands fought to release the catch, but she finally pushed the door open and almost fell out onto the veranda. She clutched one of the posts desperately, searching for any trace of her son.

  Cestov’s shuttle appeared, skidding to a halt outside the wall. Cestov leaped out almost before it stopped moving. He reached her just as her knees gave way.

  “He’s got him. Macduk’s got Charlie.”

  He swore long and viciously as he lifted her carefully into his arms, then turned to yell at Servisa.

  “Get Maldost and Plovac. Start questioning everyone! Someone must have seen something.”

  He carried her into the house, where Claire’s soft snuffles had turned into full-fledged cries.

  “The baby,” she cried, starting to struggle against his arms.

  “Sit here,” he ordered as he lowered her into one of the chairs. “I’ll get her.”

  Almost as soon as he put Claire in her arms, the baby’s cries diminished, and she wrapped her tiny tail around Mariah’s wrist. Thank god that bastard hadn’t done anything to her.

  Maldost burst through the door, his gaze going immediately to Devoji, still crumpled on the floor. He snarled, the expression on his face almost frightening, no longer the sweet oversized young male but a vicious predator. Gathering the girl up in his arms, he gently patted her face.

  “Devoji, speak to me.” There was no response and he gave Mariah a desperate look. “What’s wrong with her?”

  “We were drugged.” Both Cestov and Maldost growled. “I think it’ll take longer for her to come around because she’s so small.”

  “Where’s Whovian?” Maldost demanded.

  “An emergency in town,” Cestov said. “Maldost, did you see Macduk leave here?”

  The Afbera looked around as if realizing for the first time that the banker was no longer present.

  “No. I was watching the front door the entire time, and no one left.”

  “Why didn’t you stop him from entering the house?” Cestov demanded, and she put a shaky hand on his tail.

  “It’s not his fault—it’s mine. I let him in. It’s all my fault, and now Charlie…” Her words trailed off as tears choked her throat.

  Cestov’s tail circled her shoulders reassuringly.

  “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s my fault,” he said. “I should never have left you.”

  Plovac came in a moment later. “He’s not sure, but one of the Granicans thought he saw someone leaving through the back door of the barn.”

  “Why the hell didn’t he stop him?”

  “He thought it was just one of the ranch hands. He had a sack of grain over his shoulder.”

  “Charlie!” Mariah cried.

  “Fuck. Of course.” He turned back to Plovac. “Did he see which way he went?”

  “He thinks he was headed for the back pasture.”

  “The back pasture?” Maldost asked. “There’s nothing back there but the yearling calves.”

  “And the ship,” Cestov said, his voice quiet.

  A whole new layer of terror opened up. What if he managed to get Charlie off the planet? How would they ever find one small boy in a whole galaxy of possibilities?
<
br />   “Cestov,” she whispered.

  “Do not be afraid, my miri. I’m getting him back.” He turned to the other men. “You stay here. If anyone other than me tries to come through that door, shoot them.”

  With a hard kiss to Mariah’s lips and a gentle caress of Claire’s head, he was gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Devorat met him as he emerged from the house.

  “No sign of trouble and Macduk’s wagon is still parked out front.” He shook his head. “I’m so sorry. Even though you said it was one of us, I didn’t really believe it. And Macduk has always been such an upstanding member of our community.”

  “I did not suspect him either, but there’s no time to blame ourselves now. Have the men surround the house. No one goes in. No one, Devorat, not even your most trusted man.”

  The male nodded grimly. “And what of you?”

  “I’m going after my son.”

  “You need an escort.”

  He hesitated, his trust still shaken, but as he looked at his foreman’s worried face, he relented.

  “Only you and your brothers,” he insisted. “And stay out of sight. I do not want to scare him and risk having him hurt Charlie.”

  “You got it. We’ll flank your position.” Devorat hurried away and Cestov set off for the back pasture at a run.

  The Wanderer laid across the field like a giant exotic insect, the pockmarked metal skin an odd contrast to the soft purple vegetation. As soon as he got close enough, he saw Macduk sitting by the closed door to the landing ramp, by all appearances resting comfortably in the shade of the ship.

  “Where’s my son?” he growled.

  “Right here—so I suggest you don’t come any closer.” Macduk gestured to the grain sack lying at his feet and the rage that swept over him turned the world red.

  “Get him out of there,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “Are you sure? He’s much easier to control like this. He kept wanting to put up a fuss even though I told him everything would be fine as long as he obeyed me.”

  “Get him out of there. Now.”