Captured Boxed Set: 9 Alpha Bad-Boys Who Will Capture Your Heart (23 page)

Tren chuckled as he imagined Jaro’s
reaction when he regained consciousness, nude as the day of his birth. He might
have promised his mother he wouldn’t kill his brother, but he’d never said
anything about humiliation.

Concerned that Megan might have
encountered trouble on her way back to the ship—or caused it—he stepped over
Jaro’s prone form and headed in her direction.

He discovered only one miscreant in
need of dispatching on his way, his guilt evidenced by the silver prong pinning
his hand to the wall beside the opening leading to his ship. He dispatched him
quickly and stalked in after her, angry even if he didn’t understand why.

Chapter
Nine

Megan paced in front of the
opening for the ship, unable to get in no matter how much she whacked the wall,
but unwilling to go back out looking for Tren. It didn’t help she’d left her
only weapon stuck in some alien who’d grabbed her ass.

What unsettled her wasn’t her
sudden propensity for violence, or the odd encounter with his brother, but the
scalding kiss. The one he’d given her in public and with that strange look in
his eye. Brain muddling, knee melting, panty wetting, he’d embraced her and she
forgot everything except how it felt to be in his arms. She wondered if she
would have even protested had he decided to take her in full view of everyone.
Probably not, given how hot her blood ran. The thought chilled her, but not as
much as what she feared it meant.

I don’t even like him. Sure,
he’s sexy, but dammit, the guy wants to sell me as some sex toy for some
pervert.
Yet, knowing this, she enjoyed his presence
and craved his touch. Once again, like an idiot, she was allowing herself to
trust a man, care for him even though all signs pointed to him eventually
hurting her. And she’d only have herself to blame. He’d made his intentions
clear from the start. She was the stupid one for allowing her heart to get
involved. She blamed it on her body and its insane desire for him. If only she
could slake her never ending thirst where he was concerned.

Speaking of the purple devil, he
arrived, striding up the gangway, his brows arched and his lips pulled into a
taut line. "Why are you standing outside the ship?" he barked.

"Probably because I don’t know
how to get in."

He slapped the panel beside her
head and the door slid open. She turned to walk in when he halted her. "Aren’t
you forgetting something?"

She whirled back and then bit her
lip as he handed her back the chopstick she’d left behind. "Thanks."

His lips quirked. "I’d say no
trouble, but I’d say that follows you wherever you go."

She shrugged. "What can I say? 
I’m gifted." She turned away from him and headed into the ship.

"Megan." He spoke her
name softly, and again she stopped to peer back. She couldn’t read the look in
his clear eyes and his brow furrowed. "I will be back shortly. Try and
stay out of mischief." For some reason, she got the impression he’d meant
to say something else.

Nodding in reply, she didn’t let
her shoulders slump until the door slid shut.

What had she expected? That he
would suddenly sweep her into his arms and resume the kiss from earlier? The
one that seemed to speak of more than passion, but… No, she wouldn’t even think
it. From now on, it was probably best if they stayed away from each other. Far
away.

Common sense didn’t stop the
disappointment, though.

It took her several slap attempts
along the corridor wall, but she finally made it to the command center. She sat
in the chair and twirled her hair as she waited for him to return.

"Hey computer, I don’t suppose
you’ve got any new videos to watch?" she muttered aloud.

To her surprise, the view screen
lit up and she leaned forward with rapt attention as she found herself treated
to real time footage of the marketplace she’d just left.

From her position of safety, she
studied the various races milling about, all the while waiting to catch sight
of her purple marauder. It took a while, during which she watched an almost
comical display of violence amongst the various alien species, but Tren finally
appeared, stepping forth from a building with a bright red, flashing sign that
she couldn’t read. Annoyance made her flush and drum her fingers as she guessed
what it said given he had some alien females hanging off each arm. Their
numerous breasts pressed against him, and he, the freaking jerk, did nothing to
push them away. On the contrary, he smiled and patted the hand of one.

Fuming, she crossed her arms and
turned sideways in the chair to avoid seeing him bestowing anything more
intimate on the hussies. Irrational jealousy ate at her. She didn’t own him and
had no say in whom he spent his time with, and apparently, no matter how many
times they’d fucked, the first chance he got, he preferred paying for it, which
said a lot about her skill—or lack of.

She didn’t care.
He’s a slaving
pirate who intends to auction me off
and if he thought he’d get any more
taste of the goods, he had another thing coming.

When he finally arrived in the
command center, she wouldn’t swivel to face him.

"I see you finally managed to
figure out some of the ship commands," he announced.

"With no help from you,"
she grumbled.

"I was otherwise occupied,"
he retorted.

"Yes, I saw how you were
busy
,"
she drawled with thick sarcasm. She pivoted in the seat and fixed him with a
sneer.

"Are we back to acting
irrational?" he snapped back.

She arched a brow. "Me? I never
realized I’d stopped. And don’t try to change the subject. I’m not the one who
can’t make up his mind."

Tren gaped at her. "What the
frukx are you yammering about now?"

"Don’t act so innocent. I saw
you with those-those things."

His gaze flicked to the view screen
which still ran the live footage of the market place. His brow cleared in
understanding. "I admit, I didn’t know what would please you, hence my
difficulty in choosing."

"Please me?" She jumped
up from the chair and stalked toward him. She poked him hard in the chest and
then poked him again just because she enjoyed it. "Just because I let you
fuck me, doesn’t mean I’m open to your sick sexual fantasies."

Tren stared at her with
incomprehension. "How did we get back to sex? My errand was one of your
asking. Or did you change your mind about acquiring a new set of clothing and
shoes?"

"Clothing?" Megan’s brow
wrinkled.  "What’s clothing got to do with those sluts groping you?"

Comprehension dawned on him and he
laughed. "You saw me with the seamstresses and thought I spoke of bringing
them back for a group orgy?" Megan blushed and he chuckled louder.

Annoyed at her mistake, she slugged
him in the groin and then stomped on his foot for good measure. It didn’t stop
his laughter or his arms from coming around her frame to tug her into him for a
bone crushing hug.

"This isn’t funny," she
muttered, her cheeks hot with embarrassment.

"I find your jealousy highly
entertaining." He rubbed his chin across the top of her head, and his
gentle gesture made it hard for her to hold on to her irritation.

"I am not jealous. I’d have to
like you for that emotion to work." But his words slapped her in the face
with the truth.
Fucking hell, if I’m jealous then I must like him.

"Liar," he chided.

Yes, she was, and she didn’t like
what it implied. Not enjoying where this conversation headed both aloud and in
her mind, she changed the subject. "So, what’s up between you and your
brother? I see he got both the looks and the charm. Is that why you don’t get
along?" Her jibe stifled his humor and he stepped away from her, taking
his masculine warmth with him, and, for a moment, she regretted her words.

"My argument with my brother
is none of your concern. And in the future, if you should encounter him again,
you would do well to watch yourself. I might be renown in the galaxy, but he is
the scourge of it."

"Nice family," she
sassed. "I think I’ll skip the family reunion if you don’t mind. Somehow
it doesn’t seem like a safe affair."

"I have no family, well, other
than Jaro, and we don’t run into each other often."

Megan bit her lip. "I’m sorry.
I didn’t know." It would explain why he’d never spoken of his upbringing.

Tren shrugged, his face
expressionless. "My father died when my brother and I were still young. A
failed mission. My mother succumbed to an injury over ten planetary cycles ago."

"You still have your brother,
though, even if you don’t currently get along."

"Only because we promised our
mother not to kill each other," he growled, pacing the bridge.

"Maybe you can patch things
up." It bothered her to see him so agitated and to discover he was just as
alone in the universe as she was.

"Enough. I will not speak of
this further." He held up a hand to forestall any further commentary on
her part.

"Incoming message from the galactic
council." The computer’s voice interrupted them.

Tren’s brows drew together. "What
in frukx do they want? They know I am retired."

"Who’s the galactic council?"
Megan asked. "And what did you retire from?"

"None of your affair. You’ll
have to leave so I can hear the message. I’ve left the package with your new
garments in our quarters."

Megan knew a brushoff when she
heard it. It still annoyed her. She began to walk toward the elevator when he
caught her and spun her around. Drawing her up on tiptoe, he kissed her; a hard
bruising embrace that stole her breath.

She didn’t say anything when he let
her down, just stared at his eyes which glowed with intensity. "I will be
along shortly. I expect to see you wearing something new. Or else," he
warned with a wink.

Megan blew him a raspberry in reply
which made him chuckle. Smiling herself, she left him, entering the elevator
that would take her back to his quarters. As she exited into the corridor, a
tremor rocked the ship, and Megan braced her hand against the wall.

What the fuck was that?

An alarm sounded which didn’t
reassure her, but not as badly as the frisson of fear that struck her when the
lights went out.

Megan froze, surrounded by pitch
black. Somehow she doubted this boded well, a belief that tripled when she
heard a scuffling sound echoing somewhere in the corridor with her.

"Tren?" She hated the
quaver in her voice. However, she forgave herself in this instance. Seriously,
the situation warranted it.

Nobody replied, but the skin on her
nape prickled, announcing the fact she shared the dark hall with someone—or
something else. She reached at her waist for her needle only to curse silently
as her hand didn’t locate it. She’d left it in the bridge during her wait for
Tren.

A whisper of sound from behind made
her whirl, not that she could see anything. She punched forward with her fists
and was rewarded with contact and a grunt, but her feeble blow didn’t stop the
fabric from getting pulled over her head, or the prick in her arm.

"Tren’s going to fucking kill
you for touching his merchandise," she slurred to her unseen attacker
before slumping to the floor unconscious.

Chapter
Ten

Tren stood for a moment watching
the elevator door, wishing he could follow Megan instead of wasting time
listening to a message he had no interest in.

But I will not chase after a
female.
Brave words that made him sigh and his cock
sulk. "Play the message from the council," he ordered aloud to the
computer.

He’d no sooner settled into his
chair than the screen lit up with the galactic council crest, but the face that
appeared immediately after had him jumping from his seat and growling.

"Z’nistakn, what the frukx do
you want?"

The green scaled humanoid flicked a
forked tongue and chuckled, a gravelly, wet sound. "I want what I always
have, your head on a platter, and your entrails on my plate."

Tren smiled coldly. "Threats?
Are you really so stupid? I could use a new pair of boots."

The councilor hissed and his
slitted yellow eyes narrowed. "First, you’d have to find me, filthy
mercenary."

"Don’t tempt me," he
replied not letting on that he already knew the location of the corrupt
councilor’s supposed safe base. Tren wondered what Z’nistakn was truly after.
Idle chitchat didn’t seem like his usual style.

"I have a job for you."

And now they got to the true point
of the call. "I’m retired."

"Surely you could make an
exception. I would make it worth your while." The reptile drummed his
clawed fingers on his armrest.

Tren wanted to reach through the
view screen and throttle the creature. He’d disliked the dishonest galactic
councilor for quite some time, a feeling reciprocated, and yet Z’nistakn still
called upon his services even though Tren kept declining. "I’m busy."

"So I’ve heard. Cavorting with
a human female. I thought you enjoyed better taste."

Tren restrained himself from
growling. What did he care if the slimy councilor insulted Megan? She simply
satisfied a need. "Find another mercenary to do your dirty work. I’m not
interested."

The councilor’s forked tongue
flicked out again, and he sighed with exaggeration. "Well, I am glad to
hear it isn’t the barbarian female making you soft. In that case, you won’t
miss her then."

Before Tren could retort, an
explosion jarred his ship and Z’nistakn chortled. Tren cut the communication
and moved even as his computer warned him.

"Rear hatch blown.
Unauthorized life forms boarding. Sealing—"

An invisible pulse made the air
around him waver and sent a shiver through his body. The voice of the machine
abruptly cut off as the power supply to his vessel died and pitched him into
darkness. Very little could incapacitate his vessel, but the well-aimed
electromagnetic pulse would temporarily throw everything offline. His whole
system would reboot with an astral quarter unit.

"Frukx!" Tren cursed
aloud, but didn’t remain still. He needed to get to Megan. The dark didn’t
bother him. He’d long ago gotten the visual enhancements that allowed him to
see better than most nocturnal creatures. He also wouldn’t let a paltry thing,
such as a lack of power, keep him from Megan.
Not when she needs me.

 
As
he pried up the hatch in the elevator floor, he called himself all kinds of
names for stopping at this way station and not remaining more on guard. Usually
nobody or anything could get close enough to his ship to do damage, but he’d
allowed the repair crew to do so and without supervision. Under normal
circumstances, he oversaw all adjustments; however, this time, he’d found
himself preoccupied with one feisty female. A lesson learned that he wouldn’t repeat.

In the meantime, he needed to
rectify his error, and quickly. Megan faced danger, alone.

Unacceptable.

Tren moved quickly down the
laddered rungs in the elevator shaft, mentally counting until he reached the
correct floor. He pried the doors open and dove into the corridor, ducking into
a roll as he drew his guns. He ended up on one knee with both his arms
extended, his guns primed to fire.

However, of Megan, he saw nothing.
Going on instinct, he bypassed his quarters and ran for the other end of the
corridor where the lesser used secondary elevator shaft resided. The gaping maw
of its opening made him run faster, and he flew down the ladder. He navigated
the warren of tunnels and utility shafts on the lowest level, easily locating
the blown hatch the attackers used to force their way in. He ducked through the
ragged opening and emerged into the work bubble erected around the lower
thruster section as the garage performed repairs.

Peering around, Tren’s jaw
tightened at the realization Megan was gone. Anger battled with sinking dread.

A smart acquisitions specialist
would have let her go, chalked her up as a loss, one barbarian female’s worth
not equal to the damage or fuel expense of a chase and recapture. An
intelligent male would have looked upon the situation as the easiest method in
which to rid himself of a copulation partner without fear of reprisal.

But
Megan belonged to him.
And no one takes what is mine.

* * *

Megan woke to a thick tongue and
a pounding head. She blinked her eyes open and didn’t like what she saw, so she
closed them. She took a deep breath, then another. All in all, she took about
ten shuddering breaths before she opened them again.

Nope, still a bad situation.
Damn.

Kind of like her first abduction,
she found herself unable to move; however, unlike the last time, she found
herself shackled against a wall.

Kidnapped, but not by a nice
purple pirate this time if I’m not mistaken.

She wondered if Tren even knew
they’d taken her yet. If he cared. Probably not given how much trouble he
claimed she continually was. Perhaps he’d see her kidnapping as a relief. Sure,
he’d miss out on a bit of profit, but now he didn’t have to put up with her.

Megan gave her head a shake. Enough
with the pity party. He’d never claimed to care for her, and it wasn’t as if
she cared for him. He just happened to provide great sex—and a cuddly body to
sleep entwined with. And…

She growled as her mind tried to
smash through her defenses. She fought back. She couldn’t allow herself to care
for him—or trust him—therein lay the path to stupidity and heartache. Besides,
she had more important items to worry about such as how to escape her untenable
situation.

A yank at the manacles holding her
proved useless. The noise, however, created a scuffle outside the cell door.

The heavy portal-like door swung
open and the three-armed mechanic from the space station sauntered in.

"It took you long enough to
wake," he complained, and Megan watched in fascination as his five mouths
moved at different speeds. It made her wonder what she would have heard if she
didn’t wear a translator. She hoped the damned alien was wearing a translator
of his own, because she didn’t want to waste the insults her mind prepared
otherwise.

"Well, excuse me, you three
armed freak, for succumbing to your kidnapping drug so thoroughly. Next time,
give me a bit of warning before you decide to abduct me and I’ll try to build a
resistance to it first." She spoke without thinking, a never ending fault
with her no matter the situation.

"Where we’re taking you, there
won’t be a second chance." The creature chuckled, pleased with his threat
and answering the question that yes, he could understand her. Perfect, time to
put her most effective weapon to use—her acerbic tongue and attitude.

Megan sighed. "You know. I
really wish you bad guys would come up with something original. Do you know how
many times that phrase has been done in the movies? Seriously. Would it kill
you to come up with something new? And maybe take a shower? I mean seriously,
you’ve definitely got something funky going on."

"You talk too much," said
the alien with a frown, three of his five mouths pulling down in a moue of
displeasure.

"So everybody tells me. What
are you going to do about it?"

He slapped her in the face which
really hurt, but also fired up Megan’s temper. "Oh, big bad alien. Hit a
defenseless woman why don’t you? Coward. What’s wrong? Afraid if I wasn’t tied
up I’d hurt you?"

The mechanic, turned kidnapper,
snarled. "Filthy mouthed whore."

"Not for you I won’t be. I
like my men with some balls. I think you left yours at home. Or did someone
already neuter them for you?" Megan’s smile goaded him as much as her
provoking words.

That time, when he punched her, she
tasted blood, but he still didn’t give in to her taunts and untie her. A pity.
She’d hoped to shame him into doing so.

Worse, the sight of her blood
excited him, and he began to rain blows on her body, leaving no part of her
undamaged.
Oops, maybe not such a good plan.
Through the haze of pain
and blood, she could hear him talking to himself.

"Take off my arm and beat me
with it, will you? Ha. Looks like I get the last laugh. I’ve got your woman
now, Trenkaluan. Not such a tough mercenary after all. And once I’m done
showing this whore her place, I’m going to let her service me. How do you like
that, you smug bastard?"

"You’re nuts," she
muttered. "Tren doesn’t care for me."

"Liar," spat the alien,
his mouths contorting out of sequence. "He’s never been seen with a woman
outside of a brothel before. You must mean something, and I am going to ruin
you for him. Sully you and then throw it in his face. And he won’t be able to
do a thing about it."

"That’s what you think,"
growled a welcome, if surprising voice.

He came for me!