Page 22 of Betrothed to the Alien Mercenary

“What!? Why did you do that? We need to call for help!” I said, my voice hoarse and my throat sore. I must have been screaming more than I thought throughout that wild, crazy ride. I touched a hand to my skin, but the bruises from last night were still gone, healed by Caitlyn and her tissue regenerator.

He cocked his head my way, a grin splitting his ghoulish face. “We cannot risk anyone tracing us until it is safe for you to return,” he said. Then, he followed that up by smashing his own com device, turning to the hover cycle, and smashing some key part on its dash as well. “There, untraceable,” he added. “Ysa will be disappointed, but at least she can be proud of me for hotwiring that bike as fast as I did. Don’t you think?” I had absolutely zero idea who this Ysa was that he spoke of, but when he came to pull me to my feet, I let him draw me into a hug.

Already, the crazy events and the heat were getting to me. I felt exhausted, dried out, and my head was beginning to pound with a headache. Aramon offered me water from a canteen, and I drank greedily. Having lived in the desert half of Xurtal for most of my life, I knew how to deal with this kind of climate, but I thoroughly hated it. Preserving water was not what would keep us alive; too often, I had heard horror stories of people dying of thirst in the desert with a full canteen of water. Not me. Dehydration struck quickly and harshly.

When he brushed his hand over my belly and turned off the illusion device, I felt marginally better immediately. The constant tingle and hum of electricity over my skin had become something I ignored, but it was exhausting. I never realized how much until its constant presence was suddenly gone. “You must strip off all of your Evadne costume,” Aramon said. “We will count on hiding where you are by finally making you look like Evie for once.”

It felt wrong to pull the case for my contacts from a pocket and take them out; I’d worn them near constantly since I was eight. But what he said made sense: if I did not look like Evadne, they would not be able to find her. It was the best disguise there was. Once I’d taken out the contacts, I felt exposed in ways I couldn’t explain. I wasn’t even certain what color my eyes were anymore—blue, brown, green? Would Aramon like me when my eyes weren’t Evadne’s pretty ruby?

He stuck a finger under my chin and forced me to raise my face to his—forced me to face him, even though I wasn’t ready. It felt like I could sense him all around me, but he was only touching me with that one finger. A warmth spread over me, one that didn’t come from the punishing Ov’Korad sun. “Ah, there you are, Evie. My pretty little human. Green—why am I not surprised? The Xurtal must have thought it prophetic to see their coloring reflected in you. Red hair, green eyes.” Oh… he could be right about that. I’d never considered it, but, like my name sounding so much like their princess’s, that could have played a part in why they’d made me her double. The Xurtal were big believers in fate.

“Put this on,” Aramon said after he’d taken his fill of staring into my eyes. He pulled a pouch free from beneath his tattered robe and pressed it into my hands. “It’ll protect you.” That was all the explanation I got, but when I opened the small package, it revealed a black suit of armor like the ones all the mercenaries of the Varakartoom wore. Aramon had his own package, and he was already shrugging out of his Asrai noble clothing.

When the robe dropped, I finally got a good look at his back and drew in a shocked gasp. “Fuck, Aramon! You need medical care; that looks awful.” Splinters of wood—some small, but some as thick as a finger—stuck from his flesh. He looked like a porcupine with all those raised spikes sticking out of his flesh. Blood had dried around some of the wounds, but others had not even bled. All of it looked painful, but he was moving like he didn’t even notice.

“Give me the medkit.” I did not question if we had one or not, if Aramon had packed armor and a pistol, he would have packed a medkit too. He was too concerned about any ofmyscrapes and bruises to go without one. Indeed, when I called for one, he pulled one free from a pouch he’d dropped at his feet, the handheld scanner twirling in his fingers as he turned my way.

“You first,” he said. His skull-like features pulled into a wide grin, and his scarlet eyes twinkled with glee. He dipped into a bow. “You’re not anyone’s princess but mine now, Evie, so you can’t boss me around.” I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him, but in the end, it was easier to give in and let him scan me. Faster.

Chapter 19

Aramon

I was dying for Evie to wash the dye from her hair so I could see her in all her glory. It was clear that being “just” Evie made her feel uncomfortable. She’d been forced to play someone else for so much of her life that she didn’t know how to be herself. I’d teach her. I was very good at being me. It wouldn’t be long until she proudly embraced being Evie and showed off her pretty green eyes and red hair for the whole quadrant to see.

The bright Ov’Korad sun was harmful to her skin, turning it red across the bridge of her nose. It also brought out tiny brown dots on her neck, her arms, and even her belly. They appeared most abundantly on her face, and I absolutely adored them. They tempted me to kiss every single one, but it was time we couldn't spare. With only limited food and water, I had to get us to shelter quickly.

Thankfully, I’d been smart enough to pack armor suits for both of us, along with weapons and medical supplies. With my psychic bond to Solear in place, I also had an open line of communication directly to the Varakartoom, where he remained. If we needed help, they could swoop in and rescue us at any moment—a safety line our enemies would never suspect existed. Though fabled, Asrai psychic bonds were usually very limited in their range. Not so with Solear and me; we had never been far enough apart for the bond to break. At this point, I did not think there was a distance large enough to do so.

Evie looked sexy in the armor, but I was worried about the effects of the sun on her fair skin. To keep her safe, I activated the helmet, ensuring that she’d be protected from any further sunburn as we traveled. Then the two of us climbed onto the hover bike, and I directed it toward the nearest town. As an extra bonus, it also kept the dust and sand out of her face. When I raised mine, we could use the inner mics to communicate directly without the aid of a com.

I peppered her with questions to keep her distracted from the chaos we had left behind, and, for a time, that worked. She sat behind me on the hover cycle, her arms around my waist and her head pressed against my back. It stung a little against the still-healing wounds, but that was a price I was more than willing to pay. Besides, what the tissue regenerator hadn’t fixed yet, my natural healing capabilities would take care of in the next few hours. I’d be right as rain by evening.

When we reached the nearest town a few hours later, I half expected it to look like the desert towns I recalled from my Asrai birth world, or even like the towns that dotted the Xurtal deserts—a mixture of tents and small stone buildings with thick walls to insulate against the heat. The small Ovt town we were approaching looked nothing like that, but I should have remembered what Ov’Korad exported: mushrooms.

There were tall white spires with homes and deep caverns dug beneath the desert. High-tech sails of shimmering silver spanned most of this town to supply solar power, and an artificial oasis had been created around the deeply bored well to supply water.

When Evie saw it, she drew in a shocked gasp. “What is that? Is this one of Ov’Korad’s famous farming towns?” She had to know more about it than I did, but I knew the mushrooms this planet supplied to the rest of the quadrant were pretty vital. They were the basis of many rations and long-lasting foods; some ships had food replicators that ran exclusively on the mushrooms they grew here. It was no wonder that they remained a powerful player in the quadrant while occupying only a single planet.

“It must be. We’ll get a room at the inn and sit tight until I get the word that it’s safe to return.” She objected to that, which I fully expected and ignored. This Xurtal alliance had to form fast, she argued, and if she ran and hid after this attack, it could fall apart. Maybe, but maybe not—we did not know for sure. What I did know was that someone had tried to blow up my princess and everyone she was talking to. I was not going to make her an easy target with those bastards out there lying in wait.

The inn was a tall spire with many tiny windows set at intervals in its thick walls. A flashing neon sign sat at the top, and lower above the entrance, it declared it the Shroom Hole, which made me laugh. That was a stupid name, and the innkeeper, who came out to greet us, looked equally silly with a round cap on his head shaped like the cap of a mushroom. It had glowing purple lines along the edges, which made me think that’s what the Ovt mushrooms looked like, and they were proud of it somehow.

This mushroom farmer-turned-innkeeper was nervous when he saw the hover cycle with the damage I’d done to the dash. It didn’t take a genius to realize the bike had been stolen, and that trouble was brewing if he let us stay. But money always talked, and he was more than willing to take my coin. The room he took us to was small and the bed lumpy, but the walls were thick, which was a blessing. It also took us out of the heat and the scorching sun, allowing Evie to lower her helmet once inside.

“Stay here,” I warned her, and I slipped the single pistol we had into her hand. “Shoot anyone that isn’t me, okay?” She gave me a suspicious look but took the pistol, her slender body perched awkwardly on the edge of the too-small, lumpy cot. Without her helmet, her green hair was very obvious, and we needed to do something about that fast. The innkeeper hadn’t seen her face yet, but if they caught sight of the green hair, they might make the connection if those chasing us spread the word of who they were looking for. I needed to fix this.

“I’m getting us supplies and something for your hair,” I said, pointing at the mossy locks that lay in a tumbled mess around her shoulders. Even windblown and sunburned, she looked gorgeous, and it wasn’t until Solear prompted me on our status that I got moving. She laughed huskily as I snapped upright and stalked out, and the sound chased me down the stairs.

Touching my chest, where my heart pumped slow and steady, I focused on Solear. He was never good at forming words to send my way; it was always in images and feelings with him. Since our doubling and meeting Evie, he’d gotten better at it, though—a clarity to our bond that surprised me.

First, he sent me an image of the bomb’s aftermath, then a tally of the casualties.King Kalzudaud has taken command.He felt conflicted about that, but he also gave me the impression that Asmoded, the captain, approved.The Tarkan has contacted Xurtal and pushed the survivors into continuing discussions.That was good news; if they were talking with someone on Xurtal now, that might mean Evie was safe.

I still went to see the innkeeper and demanded the supplies I wanted. Some had to be sourced from their general store, but I got what I needed twenty minutes later. A little Ovt boy ran in with my most important things in a basket, out of breath and rapidly licking his dry eyeballs free of dust. “Sandstorm coming,” the Ovt proprietor explained as he tucked his son against his side with his long, prehensile tail. “You will have to stay inside for the next few hours.”

That was only going to benefit us, and I had an extra bounce in my step as I headed up to our room to share the good news. Evie greeted me with a gun aimed at my face, but she dropped it immediately and threw herself into my arms, squishing the basket between us. “Damn it, Aramon. You were gone so long! I was getting worried.” I had never had anyone worry about me other than Solear, and that felt very different. I had to admit that I liked it—my female was waiting for me, worrying whether I was safe.

“Sandstorm, we’ll have to stay in,” I said to her, and then I ushered her into the tiny bathroom with the dye stripper. “Take care of this first, and then we’ll go down and have dinner. I’m starving after all that fun.” Of course, nothing ever went as planned, and when Evie returned from the bathroom a little while later without the green dye in her hair, my plans were definitely derailed. All those lush coppery locks and the soft freckles the sun had brought out were too much of a temptation.

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