Chasing Mayhem (3 page)

“Then you’re a fool.” Kralj ruled the Refuge with violence and strength. Nothing happened near its walls without his approval. He had powers Imee couldn’t fully comprehend.

The male in the shadows could be as dangerous.

“My processors are highly advanced, my female.”

Imee frowned. “Your processors?” What manner of being was he? 

Metal flashed in the darkness, light reflecting off a dagger’s blade. “Catch me and I’ll accompany you.”

She was the best Retriever in the galaxy. Catching targets was her sole purpose and the only reason her family remained alive.

The overconfident male would lose his challenge.

Imee extracted her restraints, winding the unbreakable metal strips around her fingers, watching, looking for her opportunity. He’d make a mistake. Targets always did.

The sun’s rays illuminated the edge of a dagger, pinpointing his exact location. That was it, her chance. She sprang forward.

The male laughed, moving before she reached him.

She cursed. He ran, his tread light yet audible, sand crunching under his boot heels. Imee followed, catching glimpses of him.

He was a big brute, his shoulders broad, his hips narrow, his fit physique clad in skintight black body armor. Daggers and guns decorated the garment.

Every weapon she viewed was top quality and well maintained. This target wasn’t a ragged rebel who had barely escaped with his lifespan. He was an experienced warrior, valuable, rare.

The Humanoid Alliance would want him back, would grant her multiple credits for his retrieval. She’d already made quota for the solar cycle.

She could earn the right to see her family.

Adrenaline surged through Imee. She wouldn’t let him escape her.

He wove through the boulders. Imee tracked him.

Every time she thought she’d lost him, he’d make a mistake. She’d reach a fork in the path and spot a tanned hand. She’d slow and hear a heel strike stone.

Sweat trickled down her spine. Her muscles ached.

She felt more alive than she had in solar cycles. Normally, her targets were easy to apprehend. They realized that their choice was retrieval or death by Kralj’s hand and they didn’t put up much of a fight.

This was a challenge, a worthy adversary.

The path made a hard right. Imee rounded the corner.

Big arms hooked around her waist, drawing her against a wall of rock, knocking the restraints from her hands. She twisted out of his grasp, reached for her weapons. Her target gripped her wrists, stretched them high above her head, pinned her hips with his.

She raised her knee. He repositioned to block the strike, moving faster than her gaze could follow.

Shit. Her breasts heaved against his chest. He’d restrained her. Her gaze lifted to his face and her jaw dropped.

No being should ever be that handsome.

His hair was wild, sticking straight up, defying gravity. His dark eyes glimmered with humor, sparks of gold in the blackness of space. His jaw was defined, his face beardless and stark, as though it had been honed from the rock around them. Two stripes of black decorated each tanned cheek, making him appear even more savage, more primitive.

His lips, stars, his lips. They were firm with a slight curve in them, hinting that he found the universe, his lifespan, and everything else, including her, amusing.

Imee swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. She wanted to taste that levity, to taste him.

He was a target. Nothing more than that. She couldn’t forget that.

“You--”

The male claimed her lips, severing her sentence, her declaration of intent. The force of his kiss drove her head back.

She bit him, hard, drawing blood.

A normal male would be furious. He laughed.

The cut on his bottom lip healed before the sounds of his mirth faded. She stared at his flesh, at the blood already congealing. “You’re not human.” He was something other.

“No, I’m not.” Undeterred, he covered her lips with his again.

She bared her clenched teeth, silently communicating that he would never get access to her mouth. He sucked, tugging on her.

A sexy bubbling sensation spread across her flesh, a thousand tiny mouths pulling, releasing, pulling, releasing.

She denied him. He persisted, his tenacity earning him her begrudged admiration. The male, her target, laved her lips with his tongue and rocked his hips against hers, the ridge in his body armor long and thick and hard, pressing against her mons.

Arousal fogged her brain. She forced herself to think, to concentrate on her foe.

Resistance wasn’t effective. She had to change her strategy.

Imee parted her teeth, feigning capitulation. Her target didn’t hesitate to accept his prize, pushing his tongue inside her.

A wave of wanting accompanied his sensual assault. She moaned, the sound escaping her before she could stop it. He tasted of blood and metal and aroused male. She twined her tongue around his and inhaled, drawing him deeper.

The fizzing spread through her mouth, down her throat, across her body. A band of need wrapped around her chest. Her breasts ached. Her pussy pulsed.

He held her wrists in one large palm, cupped her ass with the other, lifting her until her boots no longer touched the sand. Although she was shorter than many females, she was broad and muscular and heavy, yet he showed no signs of exertion.

The warrior was unlike any being she’d ever met. “What are you?” She raised her chin, breaking their kiss.

“Yours.” He bent his head and licked down her neck, leaving a sensuous trail on her skin. “I can’t stop touching you.” He sounded as unhappy with their attraction as she was.

Because he was her enemy, her target.

The male was playing games with her, delighting her body, muddling her thoughts, making her forget who she was, what she had to do. “Do you know who I am?”

He was an unknown species. Perhaps he didn’t know. Perhaps he saw her as merely a female to fuck.

“You’re mine.” He fastened his mouth to her chin and sucked.

Imee’s eyelashes fluttered. “I’m not yours.” She couldn’t belong to him, to any male. The Humanoid Alliance owned her. They had her family and would always control her actions. “I’m a Retriever and you’re my next credit.”

She kneed the warrior, with everything she had, right in the balls.

He captured her leg between his thighs. Her eyes widened. Any other male would have collapsed with that move. He leaned forward, pushing his nut sack against her knee.

“You’re mentally deficient,” she concluded.

He chuckled, the sound strained. “I’m fully functional, my female.”

“You allowed me to knee you.”

He’d blocked her the first time. She suspected he could have blocked her again.

“You’d continue to try until you were successful.” He was right. She would have. “I’ve endured worse abuse from less beautiful beings.” His eyes glowed.

He wanted her and she wanted him. She gazed at him. He gazed back. She could easily lose herself in those dark-brown eyes.

She couldn’t allow that. “You’re my target.”

“I’m your male.” He lowered her booted feet to the sand. “You’ll accept that connection when I decide to claim you.” He skimmed his free hand over her arms, breasts, stomach, his fingers rough against her bare skin. She trembled and his lips curled upward. “For now, I’ll settle for my name on your lips. Say it and I’ll release you.”

He’d release her? Her head tilted. “Why would I believe you?”

“I’d never lie to you.” His erection pushed against her stomach, hard and unrelenting. “You’re my female.”

“Stop saying that.” She tried to pull away from him.

His grip on her wrists didn’t loosen. “Say my name, Imee.”

She wouldn’t. Imee pressed her lips together. Saying his name meant viewing him as a being. She’d feel guilt, pain when she delivered him to his death.

And she had to do that. She had to retrieve him. Her family’s safety depended on it, on her.

The blasted male waited, his big body still, his chest rising and falling, caressing her breasts with each breath. His gaze was fixed on her face, his eyes sparkling with amusement, with something resembling pride.

The sun beat down on her uncovered head, her helmet lost during the chase. Sweat beaded on her face, ran in rivulets down her spine, between her ass cheeks. He showed no signs of being affected by the heat.

He was bigger, stronger, an unidentified species. She’d never outlast him and was punishing herself for no reason. “All you want is for me to say your name?”

The male’s eyes flashed with triumph. “That’s all I want. At this moment.”

He was her target. Saying his name wouldn’t alter that fact.

Kralj would tell her otherwise, stating that the rules were made for a reason. If she wanted to be the best, to be the sole Retriever allowed within the Refuge’s walls, she had to adhere to them.

Her mentor wasn’t here. But he’d know she’d broken the rules. He always did. Her choice was disappoint her mentor and risk expulsion or remain her target’s captive. She could find targets outside the Refuge. She couldn’t retrieve anyone if she was a prisoner.

Imee inhaled, counted to five, exhaled. “Mayhem.”

“Say it louder.”

She should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. “Mayhem. There. I said it.” She yanked on her arms. “Now, honor your word and let me go.”

“I’ll let you go.” He released her. “For now.”

“For forever.” She drew her guns.

Mayhem covered her hands with his and pushed the muzzles away from his chest.  Imee was powerless to stop him. The body she’d previously thought strong was no match for his. 

“You remain my target,” she insisted. “Nothing has changed.”

“Everything has changed.” He pulled her to him, flattening her curves against his muscle. She twisted, kicked, bucked against him.

He turned with her. Her back smacked against stone. She gasped.

The bastard kissed her again, exploiting her weakness, filling her mouth with his tongue, plunging, ravishing, taking. Imee wiggled. He knocked her hands against the rock, forcing her to drop her guns, leaving her defenseless.

She moaned as he leaned against her, trapping her between his body armor-clad form and the boulder. His weight pushed the air from her lungs, the rebellion from her soul. They fit as though made for each other. Bubbles popped on her lips, chin, neck. His taste filled her mouth.

Imee sagged against him, capitulating, losing the fight against desire. She couldn’t think when he touched her like this, all over, his fingers skimming along her legs. Her brain contained only lust, yearning.

The male, her target, Mayhem drew one of her knees upward, opening her more to him. She grasped his shoulders and ground shamelessly against the bulge in his armor. He mouthed over her neck, his breath hot on her skin, his lips bruisingly firm. The pain thrilled her.

They dry humped like two wild things against the rock, their embrace ferocious; frustration, anger, and something more swirling together in a vortex of intensity. He pulled her breast covering lower, exposing more skin. She panted, the passion inside her stretching, stretching, stretching.

He nipped the swell of her right breast and she snapped.

“Yes.” Imee arched her back, rubbing her breasts against him, as release surged through her. The blazing sun above them dimmed and brightened, dimmed and brightened, sound rushing over her.

He licked her skin, soothing his bite mark, taking away the pain.

“Bubbles,” she mumbled, trembling in his arms.

“Nanocybotics,” he corrected. “Now, everyone will know you’re mine. When we are apart, they’ll smell me on you and realize whom you belong to. They won’t touch you.” His expression was smug.

Imee was tempted to slap his handsome face. She didn’t know anything about nanocybotics. Her skill set was retrieving, not biology. But she did know she belonged to no male.

“I’m not yours.” She pushed on his chest.

“You know how to free yourself.” The male didn’t move.

He’d force her to say his name again, force her to think of him as a living, breathing being, a male with friends, perhaps a family.

Kralj had set that rule for a reason. She’d broken it, would break it again, and there would be a price to pay for that, a pain to endure. 

Imee held his gaze for one, two, three heartbeats, a token protest, balm for her pride, and whispered, “Mayhem.”

This time, the male didn’t ask her to repeat herself. He stepped backward. “Don’t try to shoot me again.”

Fuck him. Imee reached for her weapons and grasped air. The daggers in her boots, the knives hidden in her breast covering, the blade strapped to her spine, all of them were gone.

She was defenseless. “You stole my weapons.” Panic churned her stomach.

For a moment, she was twelve solar cycles again, a lost little girl dropped on a strange, hostile planet by the Humanoid Alliance, armed only with an ancient malfunctioning gun and a private viewscreen, told that if she didn’t steal a ship and retrieve her quota of beings, the family she loved would die.

“You planned to use those weapons against me.” Mayhem showed no sympathy for her plight. His eyes glimmered with humor. A smile curved his lips.

Imee stared at him. The hilt of her small dagger was visible in the sheath over his heart, placed next to his larger blade.

She saw nothing funny in her current situation. Her target had her weapons. Intoxicated by his kisses, she hadn’t noticed her disarming.

An unarmed Retriever was a dead Retriever. Her kind was hated by all. Even the Humanoid Alliance, the beings owning her allegiance, wanted to kill her.

Dead Retrievers didn’t make quota. She’d made her quota for this solar cycle. When she missed her quota for the next, the Humanoid Alliance would kill her mom, her sister, her brother.

Allowing herself to become distracted was a foolish mistake, one only an inexperienced Retriever would make. It might have not only ended her lifespan but also her family’s lifespans.

Imee folded her fingers into tight fists, shaking with shock at what she’d done, angry at herself and at him. “You’re a bastard.”