Alien Savior (Zerconian Warriors Book 5) (14 page)

“I spoke to one of the Elders. He believes that while my control might never be the same, it will likely improve. The fact that we have not mated will only be making it worse. Until I am mated to you, I will be in this state of need that will only grow worse.”

“Great, so no pressure on me to mate you, huh?”

“I do not mean to pressure you. I am not demanding anything from you. But I wish to be honest. I am sorry I pushed you away. I only did what I thought I had to for you to be safe. But at no time did I not want you. I have always wanted you. And I know that you want me too.”

Yeah, she couldn’t really deny that after that kiss. “Doesn’t mean I’m ready to mate you.”

“Because of your brothers?” he asked.

“No. Actually, Rye told me he wouldn’t interfere if I chose to mate you. But I have a whole life. I can’t just leave it. And you have your own life.”

“No. I do not. My life is you. You mean everything to me. I find it hard to speak of feelings or emotions. I am a warrior. But what I feel for you, I have never felt for anyone else. It consumes me. You are in my every thought. I hope to show you that you are the most important thing in the universe to me. I want to give you time, however, sometimes our bodies have a way of forcing us into this if we take too long.”

“I think you better leave.”

“Willa—”

“Just leave, Darac. It’s all too much right now. You want me. You don’t want me. You say you want to prove to me that how important I am to you, but on your timeline. I just, I need some time to think.”

He nodded. “Very well. Just know that I am determined to make up for hurting you.”

After she was certain he was gone, she sat on the floor, leaning back against the wall.

My life is you.

Holy crap balls, he really knew how to lay it on thick. What exactly was he saying? That he was willing to move to Joyadan with her? He’d hate it there. She hated it there and she’d grown up there.

But it was home. She couldn’t leave everything she knew because some sexy dude, who was one hell of a kisser said he couldn’t live without her. But he needed her and she did care about him.

Our bodies have a way of forcing us together.

What the hell did that mean? Because he was going to get crazier? How much crazier could he get? This was too much. She couldn’t keep up. What she needed to do was concentrate on her work and forget about Darac for a while.

Huh, and Mitch might turn into an angel and fly away.

***

He kissed down her neck. Sparks sent off fireworks through her blood.

Touch my nipples. Please. Please.

His lips touched hers. Light and gentle. More. More.

Her nipples grew hard. Her clit throbbed. Heat suffocated her, flooding her with need.

He moved away from her mouth. Lower. Lower.

Buzz.

He licked her nipple. Yes. Yes.

Buzz.

He moved to her other nipple. Now things were moving along.

“All crew to the bridge. All crew to the bridge.”

Her eyes opened as the blaring voice thrust her out of her dream. That buzzing had been her communicator.

“Shit. Shit.”

Sweat coated her body. Her heart thumped loudly as she sat and swung her legs to the side of her bunk. She leaned her elbows on her knees for a minute, breathing heavily. She couldn’t leave her room like this. Not with hard nipples and unrelieved arousal coating her body in sweat.

Something was going on and she needed to pull herself together quick.

Standing, she stripped off the huge t-shirt she’d stolen from Duke before they’d left and wiped her body down with a towel. Then she grabbed some underwear, pants, and another t-shirt. Not bothering to check herself out in the mirror—why bother, nothing ever changed—she raced out the door to the bridge.

“Jeez, what happened to you? Or should I say who?” Mitch greeted her as she walked into the bridge.

“You’d think you would have figured out how to work your mute button by now.”

Rye turned and raised an eyebrow when he saw her. What?

She glanced down at herself. Shit. Maybe that glance in the mirror would have been a good idea. Her t-shirt was not only inside out but back-to-front. That took real skill. She stripped her t-shirt off.

“What are you doing?” Darac roared, moving to stand between her and the others.

She slid the t-shirt back on then gave him an exasperated look. “What? I’m wearing a bra.”

“You stripped off in front of other males!” The outrage on his face made her lips twitch.

“Chillax, beast man. They weren’t looking.”

“Nothing to see. Absolutely nothing at all,” Mitch drawled.

“Mitch!” Rye barked. He turned to look at everyone. “All of you shut up. Now.”

Everyone sobered. Except Zuma. He grinned. She rolled her eyes, exasperated.

“We have something to discuss,” Rye stated.

Great. What now? The apocalypse? A league of Coizil warships about to attack?

“A job just came through.”

That was it? Kind of a letdown.

“It’s on Quashtar. A retrieval. Two people.”

“Quashtar?” Steele asked. “That’s not a job, it’s a suicide mission.”

Quashtar was known as the anus of the universe. The worst of the worst lived there only because nowhere else would have them. It only got a few hours of daylight a day. The rest of the time it was dark. Most of the creatures living there were ones that thrived in the darkness.

Rye nodded grimly. “But the price offered is a million.”

Wow. A million.

“Who is it?” Darac asked. “What are they doing on Quashtar?”

Probably nothing good.

“Not many details were provided. But there are two people for us to retrieve. We’ve been given their co-ordinates. Two Looanen males.”

“Why are they on Quashtar?” Darac asked. “Why do their own people not pick them up?”

Rye shrugged. “I don’t know. They weren’t very forthcoming. It’s suspicious, but the money is good and if we agree, it’s half now and the other half when we return them safely back to Looanen.”

She studied Darac, who was frowning. This obviously didn’t sit well with him. “I do not like this.”

“This is what we do, beast man,” she told him. “We go where the credits are.”

“Yep,” Zuma agreed. “And the more dangerous the job, the more credits we make. So we’re setting off to Quashtar?”

“Yes,” Rye said, watching them all. “But there is something odd going on. It won’t be simple.”

“Nothing ever is,” Steele muttered.

“Oh, Steele, you want to sit this one out?” she teased. “Rest your old man bones a bit?”

He gave her a cold glare that was meant to intimidate. She winked at him.

“Are you certain your sister should be coming with us? Should she not wait with the ship in case there are engine problems?”

That sounded reasonable to him. It had taken great restraint on his part not to demand that Willa remain behind where it was safe.

They put themselves in peril for credits. His mate put herself in dangerous situations. It went against his every instinct. But he knew he could not go around making demands. He had agreed to follow Rye’s command. Even if that meant going off on a fool’s mission. But that didn’t mean that Willa needed to put herself in peril as well.

Rye raised his eyebrow. “Really? And are you going to tell Willa that she needs to stay behind because you think she’s too delicate?”

“I do not believe her delicate.”

Precious. Special. His.

“That’s because she’s not. And she won’t appreciate you trying to treat her as though she were. Mitch and Nolan stay. Nolan is a non-combatant. Mitch will guard him and the ship.”

Getting used to the way everything worked was a steep learning curve.

***

Willa winced as a large male pounded his huge fist into the bound man’s stomach. Normally, she wasn’t a squeamish sort of person. But the man receiving the beating looked like he had already had enough. His face was swollen with bruises, his clothing ripped and disheveled. He hung from the ceiling, his arms chained above his head. He slumped in such a way that she knew he had been hanging there for a while. His strength had waned.

The man beating on him stepped back and laughed. He turned, and she drew in a sharp breath when she saw the other side of this face. It was covered in scars. Probably from burns. His right eye was missing, a hideous scar in its place. The scars went down his neck and possibly lower. She shivered. It was cold. Quashtar was always cold, but that wasn’t the reason for the goose bumps covering her skin.

That was pure fear.

The warehouse was dark, just a small light flickered in the corner. But she didn’t need the light thanks to the night-vision contacts she wore. They allowed her to see in the dark as though it were daylight.

The bound, beaten man had the pale lavender skin and long purple hair that characterized him as a Looanen. He was target one.

Target two was nowhere to be seen in the large warehouse. But there was a whole other level in the basement to be explored.

“Willa, Darac, Zuma, take the basement, look for target two,” Rye spoke through the communicator in her ear.

She turned, pleased to leave. She followed Zuma out of the warehouse. This was an old building. The stairs to the basement were on the outside of the building.

Zuma gestured her to stand next to the door. She leaned up against the wall of the building. If someone came up the stairs, they wouldn’t see her until it was too late. Darac stood back and to the right of Zuma, ready to cover him

The door slid open. Thankfully, it didn’t creak as she’d expected. No one rushed up at them, and Zuma started down. They fell into line, working surprisingly well together considering that they’d never worked with Darac before. But he seemed to know what Zuma wanted even before he directed him.

They stepped into a small, empty room. A door was at the far side. They moved towards it, again taking up the same stances. No one greeted them. Pretty lax. Unless target two wasn’t down here. Zuma opened the door. Beyond the door was a passage.

Zuma held his hand up, and they stopped. He pointed forward. He was going to scout ahead. She nodded. They wouldn’t risk speaking until they knew who was down here. She waited, blaster at the ready, Darac standing next to her, a silent, deadly presence. Finally, Zuma returned.

“Found target two. Alive but unconscious. There’s no one else here.”

Weird, but she didn’t question their luck. She followed Zuma to where target two lay bound on the ground. Reaching down, she felt for his pulse. Slow and thready but alive. Like target one, it appeared that he’d been beaten to a near pulp.

“Can you carry him, Darac?” Zuma asked as he cut through his ties. Who used rope to tie people up nowadays? Only on Quashtar.

Darac nodded and picked the male up, putting him over his shoulder. She winced, knowing that position probably aggravated his wounds. But the injured male didn’t make a noise. What the hell was going on here? Why beat up two men and then throw one down here without any guards?

“Fuck! It’s a trap!” Rye’s voice screamed in her ear. “He had an F-4 detonator! Get out. Get out now.”

F-4? What they hell? An F-4 detonator could set off firebombs in multiple spaces at the same time.

Without a word, they raced down the passage towards the stairs.

“The stairs are covered in fire!” Zuma reached the stairs and took a step back. Horror filled his face and she stared over his shoulder. Huge flames covered the stairwell.

They were trapped.

“Another exit?” Darac asked.

“I saw a window, other side of the building,” Zuma told them. One-third of the basement was above ground.

The whole building shook, the noise deafening. She stumbled, slamming against the ground with a groan.

“Get up!” Darac yelled, grabbing her by the arm and hauling her up. They wouldn’t make it. This building was old. It wouldn’t take long for the fire to consume it.

“Zuma! Report!” Rye’s voice was a cold command in her ear.

“We’re alive, but trapped,” Zuma replied, studying the window above them. Darac placed the prone body on the floor.

“Get on my shoulders,” he ordered Zuma.

“We’re going to break through a window,” Zuma said. “The stairs were blocked.”

“What side of the building? The bastard must have had an invisibub timed to go off when the f-bomb detonated. Now that we’re clear, we can’t see the building, but we can feel the heat.”

“South side.”

Willa coughed, the smoke was building. Crouching on the ground, she pulled off her sweater, placing it over her mouth in an attempt to filter the smoke. Zuma smashed his elbow against the glass. If it was reinforced they were screwed.

Smash!

She threw her sweater up at him. “Here.”

Zuma wrapped it around his arm and quickly ran his arm around the window frame to remove any lingering shards of glass. Then he pulled himself through the frame.

Darac turned, picking her up. Zuma pulled her through. She turned back, still coughing, eyes streaming with tears to help Zuma tug through the unconscious male.

“Darac! Come on!”

“I will not fit!” he roared. “Get away from the building.”

What? Like hell. She stared at Zuma in horror. She hadn’t even thought about the size of the hole.

“We need something to smash a bigger hole,” Zuma said frantically.

She stood. But he grabbed her hand. “Once you go through the invisibub you can’t come back.”

“What do we do? We can’t leave him.” Stupid male. She wasn’t about to let him die. A sob escaped, panic nearly suffocated her.

Zuma lay on his back and smashed at the window frame with his feet. The building was old, rundown, the material it was built of was unknown to her. Maybe they could smash a big enough hole.

She kicked at the frame and it crumbled away.

“Move away,” Darac yelled.

She scrambled back as his hands appeared, clasping the bottom of the hole. Breathing heavily, her body covered in sweat, trembling from her adrenaline rush, she watched as he pulled himself through the hole. It wasn’t quite big enough, but he shoved himself through.

Willa winced, knowing he must be tearing his skin into pieces. But as soon as he was out, he grabbed her, picked her up, and ran.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s going to collapse.”

Behind them, Zuma carried the Looanen over his shoulder. She shivered, her breath leaving her lungs as they stepped through the invisibub. Then they were free. Darac placed her on her feet and hugged her close.

“Don’t ever do that again,” he ordered.

“What? Get trapped in a burning building? Hey, I’d like to make that promise, but you never know what’s around the corner.”

“Your brother and crew.”

“Huh?”

He nodded over as Rye and the others came racing toward them. “They are coming around the corner.”

Darac hugged her tighter, and she coughed, her chest burning. Her eyes stung as she blinked rapidly.

“I cannot lose you.” The desperation in his voice had her biting back her sarcastic comment about surviving the fire only to have him squeeze her to death.

“I know. I know.”

The truth was, she didn’t want to lose him either.

***

“Examine Willa first.”

Wow, had she actually imagined she might miss Darac’s growly voice and bossy ways? Willa watched as Nolan tried to get Darac to submit to his examination.

Oh, who was she kidding? She’d been prepared to dive back into a collapsed building to dig him out with her bare hands, so she figured she might actually love the psycho.

There it was. She loved him. Shit. Now what to do about it?

“Willa is bruised and scratched, a bit of smoke inhalation. You were in there much longer,” Nolan explained patiently. Much in the same type of voice you might use with a small child.

Darac glared at Nolan.

“Nolan, see to Willa first,” Rye ordered as he came through the door. “How are our guests?”

“Still unconscious,” Nolan told him as he moved over to Willa. She submitted to his exam with a sigh, wincing as he prodded at a bruise on her hip. “Both have a few broken ribs, one also has a broken nose. Lots of cuts and contusions, but thankfully no internal bleeding. They’ll make it.”

Rye leaned back against the wall, almost as though he were tired. But Rye never tired. He never faltered. Never hesitated. He ran his hand over his face. “That was too close.”

“You don’t need to tell us,” Zuma joked. “I actually had a come to Jesus moment.”

“Jesus is the God you worship?” Darac asked.

“Some people do,” she explained. “Zuma doesn’t.”

“I might now. We shouldn’t have survived that. Who the hell survives a building collapsing around them? We had some divine help.” He turned to Darac. “Or maybe I should start praying to you.” He leaned over, both arms straight out in front of him. “Oh holy one, I’m not worthy. I am not worthy.”

“What is he doing?” Darac watched him.

“Being an idiot. Well?” she asked Nolan.

“You’re good. Few bruises and scratches.”

“Great.” She stood and whacked Zuma over the head. “Act like a normal person for once, will ya?”

“I am acting normal. He is my new hero.”

“Who was your old hero?” she asked.

“Me.” He grinned.

“I did not do anything,” Darac said.

“Other than save the three of us?” Zuma replied. “No, you did nothing at all.”

“Just ignore him,” she told Darac. “I’m pretty sure Mom dropped him on his head as a child.”

“More than once,” Rye added.

“So what happened?” Darac asked, finally allowing Nolan to check him over.

Rye sighed. “Steele lined up a shot and took it. The guy fell. But the idiot had the detonator in his pocket. It must have activated when he fell. We managed to get out a window then we raced around to the entrance to the basement not realizing there was an invisibub in place until we stepped through it.”

“Why would he have set off an f-bomb?” she asked.

“To get rid of evidence?” Darac guessed.

“Or it was all a trap,” Rye said. “Maybe they kidnapped our guests to lure someone else there. Then they would set the f-bomb off. Could explain the credits offered to us to retrieve them.”

“The only people who might shed some light on the matter are both unconscious. Let’s head towards Looanen and when one of our guests wakes up, we’ll have a few questions for them. The three of you go rest.”

Willa was exhausted. She climbed off the examination table and stumbled her way down to her room. After a quick shower—her legs weren’t going to hold her for long—she lay back on the bed naked. Staring at the ceiling, she willed herself to sleep, but every time she closed her eyes, panic swamped her.

She’d nearly lost him.

Heart beating rapidly, she sat up. She couldn’t do this. She needed him, and she didn’t have it in her to deny him any longer. A knock on the door interrupted her as she searched for some clean clothes. She grabbed a sheet, wrapped it around herself, then opened the door.

It slid open to reveal Darac. He glanced at her quickly, running his gaze over her.

Nipples tightening, pressing against the sheet, she shifted from foot to foot. “Darac.”

“I am sorry. I can come back.”

“No. No, actually, I was just coming to see you.”

His eyes widened.