Page 5 of Warrior Rescued

What the hell is it?It was obviously solid if it made an impact like that.A meteor maybe.

The mystery had her salivating, and then she slowed, recalling what happened the last time she and Sidi went chasing things falling from the sky.

But none of the reptiles’ ships ever looked like that.

Still, she moved more cautiously, pausing again when she spied the mystery through the dispersing dust cloud.

“It is a ship,” she whispered.

The silver teardrop wasn’t like the Miran Sona or the reptiles’ ships, it was altogether different.

Maybe they can help us.

Tentatively, she crept forward but was disheartened to see the hole ripped in the side of the ship, rendering it a useless hunk of metal. Her eyes burned as tears welled up and spilled down her cheeks.

“Don’t!” She angrily scrubbed the tears from her cheeks, feeling utterly stupid.

It was insidious, that glimmer of hope that crept in and somehow took root in less than an hour. And now it died just as quickly as it came, taking with it more of her soul. This fucking planet was like a blackhole swallowing everything up and crushing it.

“But not me. It won’t break me!” She clenched her fists.

Salvage. That is the protocol, she repeated Sidi’s words.

Her friend had been right, though not necessarily about that doomed section of the ship that was quickly lost to the chasm. Salvage was the only way to survive on Hell. She thought she was poor back home, patching her jeans once they got holes, just so she could get another few months out of them. But here, she was wearing the clothes stolen off a dead woman, and she’d wear them until they fell off her, just to honor the poor soul’s sacrifice before pulling more out of the carefully folded pile that she guarded with her life.

Elena set aside her emotions and crept forward, listening for movement inside the ship. Besides the crackling of dying electronics there was nothing, so cautiously she stepped over the mangled access door then froze.

“El Diablo,” she muttered in shock when she saw the unconscious creature inside.

He was just like the demon that her great aunt warned would come get her if she sinned. He was absurdly tall, nearly too big for his seat, with broad shoulders, a chiseled bare chest and washboard abs. His skin was deep red, like the blood that marred his shoulder, and a long tail dangled limp from the chair he was strapped into. The demon hardly seemed dressed for space travel, wearing a kilt, as if he were some Roman gladiator. She panned down his thighs, the size of tree trunks, but couldn’t tell if hooves were hidden in his boots or not. Her gaze rose again. Perhaps he had feet like hers, since his large hands were certainly similar. His corded arms with bulging tattooed biceps were strong enough to drag her to Hell, though seeing him felt like further proof she was already there. Scruff grew on his square jaw but that’s not what made her shiver. His gaping mouth revealed a gleaming pair of sharp fangs. The only thing missing were horns sprouting from his pitch-black, long hair.

She never believed in the myth, and yet, as she stared at the devil, she was finding it impossible to ignore the cautionary tales ingrained in her since childhood. It’s not like she truly believed this man was the one and only devil, but any creature that looked this formidable couldn’t be benign.

Be quick and grab what you can.She turned her gaze away from his steadily rising chest.

Her legs trembled, her breath coming out in nervous pants as she crept farther into the cruiser and grabbed the scattered supplies as quietly as possible. Then she heard it, the most terrifying deep growl. It echoed through the ship, chilling her to her very marrow, freezing her in place.

Dear God!

TWO

PLEASED TO MEET YOU

Payim quo Desero

Payim groaned and shifted in his seat.

“Son of ametcor,” he barked when pain radiated through his shoulder.

His eyes flew open and he swiftly panned the wreckage all around him.

“No,” he moaned, as his mind cleared.

This was supposed to be a swift reconnaissance mission. Fly in cloaked, look around and fly back out. If he spotted what they suspected was here they’d hail for reinforcements.

I let my pride get in the way.

He’d assumed this would be easy. After all, he'd spent his whole life behind the controls and was trained by the best warrior that ever skimmed the stratosphere. He’d threaded the pass of Palal as the cliffs were crumbling, infiltrated a fleet of Scelus ships mid-flight, and even evaded a wind storm the size of a continent while rescuing the Toufik from their dying world. This should’ve been simple by comparison. He’d been wrong—very wrong.

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