Bane: A SciFi Alien Romance (The Ladyships Book 2)

by Bex McLynn

  Cool alarm spiked through Therion, although he kept his posture lax. Lider had only one reason to have a cryo-chest tossed in with the other medical equipment: to collect samples.

  Therion strode over to the chest. A bio-lock protected the contents within. Fine. He wouldn’t get it open now, but perhaps—

  The bit of Kora on his wrist rippled her plates, and the lock on the chest flashed, then released. Lider hissed in astonishment as Therion lifted the lid open. He stared down at the contents. Nothing but rags that had stiffened into crumbled up balls.

  Then it hit him. Lider had told him that they were running out of towels.

  So, this was what he was good for—cum-soaked rags. Getting access to his genetics was the reason why the Gwyretti didn’t fire a blastbolt through his head when he caused a ruckus in the Lassie market searching for more Humans.

  He passed his eyes over the medical equipment again, noting the surgical tools and vials and damned restraints on the table. Terrible images flashed through his mind. He saw Maude strapped down, her face locked in fear and confusion, as Lider loomed over her. Such a violation was abhorrent to the Teras. Their society revolved around one core belief: that the Athela always chooses.

  He turned toward Lider.

  “She trusted you,” he growled. “Would have blindly gotten on your butcher’s block because she thought you were helping her.”

  Lider sneered at him. “Typical Teras. I wouldn’t have hurt her. She’s too valuable an asset.”

  “Asset? She’s a person!”

  Lider hissed in disgust. “You think too small. She has potential that exceeds individuality.”

  The roar of engine thrusters had both Therion and Lider glancing overhead. When Therion glanced back at Lider, he could tell that the Gwyretti recognized the sound of a transport as opposed to the high-pitched whine of an air skiff.

  Lider hastily stepped forward. “If you take her, we’ll never know if she could pass it on.”

  “Pass it on?” Therion echoed back, but then he knew.

  He should have godsdamn fucking realized it would all come down to this. Could Maude have a technopathic child? The Dominion rumbled with the same chatter about Seph and breeding her with a Teras man. Some in the Dominion hinted that answering that question superseded Seph’s rights as an Athela. It angered the hell out of him, but didn’t really surprise him, that the Gwyretti had the same question. They wanted to know if Maude could breed a technopathic Gwyretti child.

  Therion snarled. “You sure as fuck will never know.” He cast his gaze about the nefarious medibay and curled his lip. “Not like this.”

  “Please.” Lider moved toward him. “Leave me tissue samples. Blood. Skin cells. Something.”

  Therion clenched his fists. “How about this instead?” He canted his head toward the open door. “I tell the dozen Teras Unsworns you’ve used as arena fodder that the medibay is up and running. We’ll see how many men you’re able to treat before one of them decides to snap some of your bones.”

  Therion turned to leave.

  “Wait!” Lider called out. “I was—I am a geneticist. To leave me here—you’d be wasting me.”

  Therion glanced over his shoulder as he strode out. “That’s kinda the idea.”

  In the hall, three Teras men, battered and bleeding, eyed Therion warily. They held weapons taken from the guards, but they sagged. The fight was nearly drained from them.

  He smiled at them as he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “Medibay’s that way.”

  “It’s working?” one of the Teras asked.

  “Sure the fuck is.” Therion kept walking. “But break as much as you want.”

  Therion watched the ship, an old freighter stripped of its house designation, touch down outside the compound’s rampart. The remaining Teras Unsworns, riled from the battle with the Gwyretti, started to mount a charge toward the freighter. But when an armored strike team streamed out of the hatch, the Unsworns scattered. A few started for the low-tech ground transport that initially brought them all here. Therion had no issues with them running. At least he could honestly tell Maude that the slaves had gotten away.

  Despite the rage that still pulsed through him, something in him settled at seeing the House Borac fleetmen swarming the compound. With a satisfied grunt, he embraced the sense of accomplishment. He swore to Maude that he would protect her, and encircling her with an armored unit brought him one step closer to fulfilling his oath to her.

  As the strike team entered the compound, Submedic Feldser brought up the rear, and the man had an actual gods-given MediCune scanner strapped to his hip.

  “Commander.” Feldser greeted him with a nod.

  Therion wanted to kiss the submedic. “Got a downed asset inside the compound.”

  “Aye, Commander.” Feldser gave him another brisk nod and then rushed off.

  As Therion continued toward the freighter’s open hatch, he caught movement in the shadow of the ship. With a sigh, he changed his course and headed toward the Teras lurking behind a landing strut.

  “Hoy, Crotch Rotter,” Therion said. “Stop humping the freighter and get your ass to the ground transport. You’re gonna miss your only ride back to the market.”

  The scrawny Teras poked his head out and gave Therion a baleful gaze. Thank fuck Maude was nowhere around. She’d probably scurry over and give that little bastard a hug.

  Crotch Rotter flicked his gaze between Therion and the sands. “They’s not Fleet. So I’d rather go with you, Banger, sir.”

  Crotch Rotter had it rough, being such a scrawny little runt, but Therion knew a bottom-feeder when he saw one. Someone who constantly sought to ingratiate themselves with the Biggest Bad for protection. It made no fucking sense why Crotch Rotter wanted to hitch himself to Therion.

  Therion beamed at the man, making sure he portrayed the idiot that people thought him to be. “Aye, well, I’d rather have been a sex slave. Looks like no one’s getting what they want outta all this. Now go on. Get. Ride’s gonna leave your ass behind.”

  Crotch Rotter scurried over to him. “Just gimme a chance. I could join your clade. Be useful to you. I’m good with a tool caddy. Know when to duck and just listen. Real good at hearing all sorts of things.”

  Therion frowned down at the man. “Not sure that’s a selling point, considering you’re doing a fuck-all job of listening to me now.”

  “Just trying to persuade you, Banger, sir.”

  “Aye, you sure are trying.” Therion jutted his chin away from the ship. “But I’m gonna end this quick and just say ‘fuck no.’ Now get, before an armored grunt shuffles you off.”

  With a whine, Crotch Rotter reached for him. “But—”

  Therion batted his hand away. “Ech, now. Off with you. Get.”

  In a rather undignified manner, Therion snarled and kicked at Crotch Rotter until the man scurried away, casting pitiful glances over his shoulder.

  A familiar voice spoke from behind him. “Running off the rabble?”

  Therion turned toward the freighter’s hatch and set his eyes on a towering Teras wearing pilot gear. “Aye, Gappa. Think I should shuffle off with him?”

  Dyrastur Borac, a gritty looking bastard with clade tattoos covering his hands and neck, ducked his head to clear the overhang of the hatch. The man sported hair a dull matte black and livid praal, both features declaring his advanced age.

  Dyr scanned the area with sharp eyes. “Where’s your gamma?”

  Therion suppressed his wince. He knew that calm tone meant that Dyr—his grandfather and former thane of House Borac—wanted to thrash. Badly at that.

  Therion waved dismissively at his grandfather, who had served as his Outside Man for the mission. “Ech, she’s fine. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

  “Nothing to worry about?” Dyr pinned him with a hard gaze, and then pulled a long black rope from the cargo pocket of his pants. Therion took a second glance. Not a rope, but a thick plait of matte black hair which his g
randfather shook accusingly at him. “I found this.”

  “I had nothing to do with that.” And he didn’t. He was nowhere near the lav when his grandmother had shaved off all of her hair.

  His grandfather lowered his voice. “You always have something to do with ‘that.’”

  Then, his grandfather held his breath—which meant he accessed his technopathy—and arched a brow at Therion. “She’s in the power cell cluster?”

  Therion shrugged. “It was a safe enough place to stash her.”

  His grandfather sighed and hopped down rather gracefully from the elevated hatched and onto the sand. He pulled a WristCune from his other pocket and tossed it to Therion.

  “We’ll never get out of here if she’s found something to muck with.” As his grandfather strode off, he passed Culler and gave the brute a steady, respectful nod. “Dius. I trust you kept your gamma out of trouble?”

  Culler nodded back. “Sir. Gamma’s a’right.”

  Therion rolled his eyes. His cousin, Dius, always was his gappa’s favorite. Nothing but an ass kisser.

  “You’re worrying over nothing.” Therion flung his arm toward the rampart and the downed Gwyretti. “She took out half the guards.”

  His grandfather shook his head as he continued into the compound. “She’s losing her touch, then.”

  Dyr made a fair point, so Therion hummed in agreement. Vedma really restrained herself this time. It was nothing like the time she unleashed chaos and locked down an entire space station.

  No wonder she was so salty over the fact that they hadn’t been sex slaves this time around. Ech, he’d find a way to make it up to the wrinkly old fart.

  Well, hopefully he would make it up to her, because once Dyr found Vedma dressed as a man—something they never agreed to do—his grandfather would kick his ass and then rail at Zver about ‘godsdamn risks’ and ‘fucking idiotic schemes.’ Then, Zver would pummel Therion too.

  As for Vedma herself, Therion could count on her laughing herself into a wheezing fit as she watched it all.

  Therion turned to Dius, his Inside Man. “Gappa’s going to fucking tell Zver everything, isn’t he?”

  Dius shrugged. “He sure is.”

  Well, damn. “I wanted to be the one to tell Zver.”

  “Course you did.”

  “Because the look on his face was going to be hilarious.” Therion gestured toward the compound that hid his meddling grandfather from view. “Now Gappa’s gonna ruin everything, all because Gummy shaved her own damn head.”

  “Gamma does what Gamma does.”

  Irked, Therion knocked Dius on his shoulder. “Why couldn’t you’ve told Gappa that? Not be all, ‘Gamma’s a’right.’”

  Dius gave him a flat stare and canted his head toward the compound.

  Therion took his cousin’s meaning. Dyr shredded anything and anyone that fucked with Vedma. He couldn’t fault his cousin for having a healthy instinct for self-preservation.

  “Aye,” Therion sighed. “I see your point.”

  Chapter Eight

  Maude opened her eyes and blinked, trying to clear her vision. She had expected the stone ceiling of her cell overhead. Instead, she lay in a shadowy, cramped space with Therion hovering over her. His cool hands stroked her cheeks, brushing her hair away from her face.

  Had she been crying again?

  No. Her eyes didn’t feel wrung out and her nasal passage was clear. But she knew, as certain as she knew that it was Therion who hovered over her, that she’d lost time. Maybe she’d simply fainted—hopefully that was the case—but his stricken expression hinted that something worse had happened.

  She knew. It was the spider. It had done something to her.

  Therion swallowed, and his thick voice sounded unsure. “Maude?”

  His eyes never broke their connection with her own. If he sought reassurances, he’d be disappointed. She had no idea what had happened.

  “Ech,” she heard Gummy say from somewhere out of view. “You’re coddling her.”

  Therion kept his gaze on her. “Fucking shut it, Gummy. You’re not helping.”

  Gummy grumped and muttered a word that sounded like ‘caroa.’

  “How are you feeling, Maude?” He continued to brush his cool hands over her heated skin.

  “I don’t know.” She went to sit up, but then her world toppled on her.

  She groaned as dizziness struck her, sending spiking pain through her head and souring her stomach. She sagged, going limp in Therion’s arms as he eased her back down.

  Did he settle her onto a bed? It felt like a bed, but the space was tight. With hard metal walls on her left side and at her head and feet, she probably lay in a bunk or alcove.

  A new voice, cold and sterile, spoke directly to her. “[Teras Class Freighter: Teret. Access Denied.]”

  “Maude?” Therion asked insistently.

  “Not good.” She tried to swallow the rising bile back down. “Not doing so good.”

  “I see that.” He shifted off the mattress, backing out of the bunk.

  “Girly’s fighting it,” Gummy said. “Stop fighting it.”

  Maude had no idea what the old man meant. She wasn’t a fighter. It wasn’t in her nature to issue or answer a challenge. But her sister said that she could be stubborn, digging in once her mind was made up.

  “Worse than cement,” Nicole used to say. “Gotta change your mind before it sets.”

  Maude wasn’t wet cement right now. She was cracked and crumbling concrete. While Therion and Gummy argued in hushed tones somewhere in a space that she’d yet to really look upon, the spider continued to chatter to her. Over and over, it spoke in words that only Maude could hear.

  I wake. I wake. I wake.

  Each utterance struck like a pickax against a stone, chipping away her stubborn resolve to ignore the voice inside her head.

  Yes. The spider. It spoke to her. She knew that now. Yet, within the seconds that she accepted that reality, a new voice spoke up.

  The sterile voice repeated, “[Teras Class Freighter: Teret. Access Denied.]”

  Done. She was done. She had finally cracked apart and solid chunks of herself littered the ground.

  Her heart thumped painfully in her chest. Oh, good lord, she couldn’t break. The baby needed her to be whole and sane and—

  “[I wake,]” the spider said.

  “Stop it,” Maude mumbled.

  The other voice chimed in. “[Teras Class—]”

  “Stop it. Stop it. Stop it!” She battered her fists against the bunk’s walls as she kicked out with her legs.

  No one listened. The spider insistently responded ‘I wake’ to each of her pleas. The sterile voice remained unchanged. Both voices had trapped her in an endless, looping argument.

  It happened. It had finally happened. She’d lost her mind.

  “Dammit, Maude, cease!” Therion yelled.

  Therion’s strong hands held her wrists. His heavy body pressed down on her, stopping her from thrashing. She shrieked in outrage, turning her anger on him as she snapped her teeth at his nose and chin.

  A fast open-palm slap caught Maude by surprise and froze her movements. As her cheek stung, she gawked at Gummy. The old man had hit her.

  “By Unholde, Gummy!” Therion snarled.

  The old man frowned down at her and grumped. “Nothing but a caroa. It’s the damn spider and ship that’s talking to you, girly. Stop ignoring them.”

  Therion snarled at Gummy as he rolled off of Maude. The sudden loss of him sent a draft over her, like someone whipped a blanket off of her, leaving her exposed and shivering.

  “I’ve had it with you.” Therion guided Gummy toward a sliding panel door. “You’re pushing too hard. She’s not like Seph, all right?” He slapped at the door controls and the panel slid away, nesting into the wall. “Gappa! Come and get Gummy!”

  “Tattling on me, Therry?” Gummy frowned up at him, looking disappointed. “Can’t handle me yourself?”

 
“I wouldn’t handle you while wearing a biohazard suit.” Therion poked a finger into Gummy’s chest. “You’re a mean little shit.”

  “Fine. Go soft on her and watch her crumble like caro.” Gummy snarled up at Therion. “Some folks can’t be put back together again, Therry. Gotta seal the cracks before they break.”

  “Oh, I’ll crack you in half myself if you touch her again. Hear me, Gummy? There’ll be no putting you back together once I’m done grinding your ass to rubble.”

  Through the open door, Maude caught sight of a Teras—one as towering as Therion but as aged as Gummy—standing in the corridor. He had his arms crossed over his chest, and in one tattoo-covered hand he fisted a dark bundle of fabric.

  He inscrutably gazed down at Gummy. “Aye, Sarda. Let’s go.”

  “He’s too soft,” Gummy snapped as he shuffled out. “Blame you, Dyr. Told you not to hug him so damn much. Boy’s losing his gumption.”

  Therion batted his hand at Gummy, signaling he was done with the little old man. “It’s always about godsdamn gumption with you, Gummy. Get out of here.”

  Dyr—Gummy had called him—grunted as Gummy shuffled past, landing a solid knock on his shoulder. Maude expected the hard-looking man to lash out at Gummy, but instead his expression softened for a second, as his eyes tracked the smaller man’s exit.

  As the echoes of Gummy’s griping and stomping faded away, Maude sat up and slowly brought her legs into a crisscross sitting position. Her stiff joints ached, and her muscles needed a good stretch. She ignored both as she resettled her tattered cloak around her shoulders.

  “[Teras Class Freighter: Teret. Access Denied.]”

  That, though, she couldn’t ignore.

  Maude shivered as she looked about the small room. The space was cramped, yet tidy. From her vantage point, she sat in a recessed bunk opposite a chair and desk which were bolted to the floor. Aside from the door to the corridor, there was a second door; a closet or bathroom, she supposed.

  Her sparse surroundings offered no distractions, leaving her to settle her gaze on her hands folded in her lap. She heard the door slide shut. The hairs on her neck tingled, singling her awareness that Therion remained in the room with her.