Page 21 of Saved By the Alien Mercenary

He lifted his chin, and I was left staring at the hard, sharp angle of it. “Thank you for the use of your office, Javano. I will be taking this one into custody, if you don’t mind.” The Rummicaron officer made some kind of noise in the back of his throat that was probably meant to be consent, but De’tor did not needananswer from him either. “Expect your payment in your account today,” the crimelord’s right-hand man said as he dragged me to the door, acomment thrown casually over his shoulder.

So this Javano was in Jalima’s pocket, but he clearly did not enjoy the position. With the fading wave of pain, a little more clarity and stamina came back to me,too. Not a lot, but enough to spark a mutinous fall of words. “Where is Brace? I came back here for Brace! What did you do with him?” I didn’t need to ask him what he wanted from me, he knew I didn’t have the money to repay him for the Kanfray. He was here for his son, and he couldn’t have him. Over my dead body. Which it very well was going to be, because how could I possibly fight him?

I had his gun, still clutched awkwardly in one hand beneath the blankets. All I had to do was raise it and fire. Then what? I’d be a murderer, trapped in a building full of people with the ability to arrest and disarm me on the spot. I’d go to prison, and Brace would still be stuck. My mind filled with images of my poor guy in a cell, back to being starved so he could be controlled. It would be his worst nightmare, and he’d be pushed to the brink again, and snap. He’d hate himself when that happened.

My fingers tightened around thegun, clutching it beneath the blanket against my side. When I thought I could shoot him, I would. De’tor didn’t deserve anything but death for willingly putting my male in danger, for wanting to steal my child from me. How had I not seen what an asshole he was back then? I’d let myselfbetempted by smart conversation and sexy muscles. Not that I found any part of him attractive now, not after I’d been with Brace andknew how sexy it was to add love and tenderness to the mix.

“You mean the Hoxiam?” De’tor said, his pace slowing when he realized I could not keep up and he’d nearly made me fall over twice. His grip on my arm shifted to my elbow, and now he was still holding me but also lifting me a little, easing my steps. He shook his head, his free hand going up to touch one of his horns. It was broken, the tip snapped off, and from the looks of it. His handsome face pulled into a mean snarl for a second, rage flashing in his amethyst eyes. “Sheer luck that a Rummicaron patrol caught him. Idiot didn’t want to hurt innocent bystanders and let them take him.” He tilted his head my way, a sneer on his face.“He abandoned you.”

If he thought that would drive a wedge between me and my mate—the male I loved with every aching, sweat-soaked part of me—he was wrong. “Javano informed me of the situation, and here we are. I knew you’d come back for him. Humans are always sentimental.” Then he shocked the hell out of me by adding, “But I’ll take you to him. Soon. Don’t worry.” He laughed loudly, head tossed back as if hefoundmy reunion with Brace the most amusing thing in the world.

“First, you’re going to hand me my child, then you can see him.” We’d reached a hallway with a set of stairs—metal and dark—with only small red lights at intervals along the steps. I drew in a painful, tired breath at the sight of them, exhausted just thinking about being forced to climb down.

“You can’t have him,” I said numbly, though I didn’t know how I could stop him. “He’s not ready to be born yet, it takes nine months,” I added. A wave of pain was rising again, sharp and hard;it began low in my back and radiated to my front as if someone wereclamping down on me. This was definitely a contraction, and I wanted to laugh and curse at the same time. Here I was,trying to convince the bad guy I wasn’t ready to have my baby yet, while my body was doing everything in its power to expel my child. Fuck,it hurt, and the timing couldn’t be worse.

“News flash,” De’tor said, his deep voice turning darker with his sadistic glee. “Kertinal only gestateforfour months. You are ready.” And, in the ultimate betrayal, that’s when my water broke. Proving what he said was true. It gushed out, a shocking fall of water, instantly cooling against my flesh. Most of it was absorbed by my clothes, but it ran down my pant leg and splattered onto the floor.

De’tor’s long, blade-tipped tail swung around, nudging under my chin so I had to look away from those telltale drops and face him. “See? You will give me my child, and then I will give you to that beast of yours. It’s a win-win,” he said. I knew it wasn’t,but the pain of this next contraction was overwhelming, I couldn’t think straight.

My hands were digging into his arm, blunt nails biting against his tough skin. Vaguely, I knew that meant I’d dropped the gun, but I hadn’t heard it fallanddidn’t recall doing it. I shouted with this one, a scream of pain,rage,and impotence. He was going to win;he was going to get away with this.

Chapter 18

Brace

I knew nothing but the red wash of rage for a long time. It pounded through my veins, throbbed inside my head, and clouded my vision. I saw nothing, heard nothing, only felt the ache of my fists as they hit against metal and stone.

In the back of my mind, another seed sat—something brighter than the red rage. Something honest and pure, that wanted to call to me and warn me of important things, of urgent things I had to take care of. The snap of bone against metal made me howl, tossing back my head,mymouth open as wide as it could go.

I tasted things then.Scents and flavors: metal, blood, damp mold, and stone. The dust of disuse and the sharp tang of fear. Rummicaron flesh would taste like salt and tears. It wouldn’t be pleasant to eat, but it would feed the gnawing hunger in the pit of my belly, that hunger that was growing larger with every passing moment, fanning the flames of rage. The hunger was the source—I knew that—but I was so deep in its grasp now that I couldn’t care.

Then I smelled something else, something softer and sweeter. I smelled pain and blood, despair and tears.I smelled the ice and snow from my homeworld. No, not fromthehome of a childhood long ago, but it was the scent of home. Her name whispered through my mind slowly: Ruby—an echo of a memory that stirred deeper, pullingat that bright seed that sat at the back of my brain and held onto good things, important things.

Ruby.

That scent was Ruby, my mate. She smelled of pain and despair;she smelled of tears. The rage swelled then, furious that my mate was hurting. Why was she hurting? Why had I not protected her? But this rage was not the same as the rage of hunger, this one was colder, sharper, and...clearer. My mind filled with other thoughts now, remembering how I’d gotten here.

The need to get supplies, food, water, blankets, it had been overwhelming. Something in Ruby’s scent had told me that I had to be prepared for anything, for her baby. I had been filled with the urge to make her nest as warm and perfect as I could, to give her everything she needed. I’d gone out to hunt so I could finally still the rumbling in her stomach. Then I’d run into the patrol, and they had some kind of heat tracker. I thoughtthatif I went with them, they’d contact theVarakartoomand smooth things over. If I fought them, many would die, I’d fall to the rage, and then Ruby would be in even more danger.

My head ached as I forced myself to remember how I’d gotten trapped in this dark, damp cell. De’tor—I was certain he’d been there. That he’d watched me get hauled into the port authority’s offices. Thatwas what had set off the true rage, because I knew then that Ruby was in terrible danger.

Now I smelled her, and worst of all, I smelled her pain. I had failed her every step of the way:failed to protect her, failed to protect her ship, and her baby. I’d gotten so involved that my judgment had been clouded, and that had put her in danger. This was my fault. All of it. I never should have left my galley. A better, safer male should have been the one to protect her. Stars, if I hadn’t offered to escort her, the Captain might neverhavelet her leave theVarakartoom…

I felt awash again with rage;it filled me like a tidal wave. This rage was all directed at myself, and I roared out my pain. Trapped in this prison, I could not even help my mate now, when she needed me the most. The shuffle of footsteps, the groaning of a metal door, it made me roar louder. It made me fight against the metal bars of my cell until my hands achedand I did not care.

They had left the lights off, but when they flicked on now, they blinded me. I could not see, but I still heard the steps coming closer.At first,it sounded like a struggle—slow, dragging—and then there was a sudden sound,followed by faster steps. I shook my head, wiping a palm over my eyes, and my vision started to clear. The flash of black and purplemademy heart leap in my chest; that was him! That was the bastardwhohurt my mate,whoput me in here. De’tor, I would kill him.

He was speaking, but the words were slow to filter through my mind. I’d flung out my arms, trying to reach for him through the bars, and in the back of my mind, I knew thatit was useless, but I did it anyway. “Here he is, as promised. I find it very poetic that he will be your executioner, don’t you think? He’ll be marvelous on the arena sands once again, after he’s eaten his fill of you.”

Arena sands, eating, executioner? The words rattled aroundinmy head without meaning,but they ached in my chest. De’tor said them to hurt, and I could not remember why they did. I snarled at his retreating form, arms outstretched as far as they could go, joints aching. Again,my prey escaped me. Why had I let him slip away from me before? I did not remember. I didn’t remember a lot of things. Shaking my head, snarling my fury, I tried to make sense of a world still awash in red.Then the lights blinked back out,and I was plunged into darkness.

A seed at the back of my mind, light, soft, as bright as the sun. A feather-touch against my arm, a scent in my nose that was delicate and sweet. Pain. I smelled pain and blood. A sound, soft and quiet;it did not rise above theroar ofmy snarling. My ears twitched toward it, and the pain of the hunger deep in my gut vanished, replaced by a far greater pain deep inside my chest. Ruby.

She sobbed again, a muffled, desperate sound so full of agony that it broke something inside of me. I felt shattered, torn in two, certain I would crumble with the slightest breath of air. The bars of my cell were lowering, sliding away so that I could step into the hallway. Darkness claimed everything, and without a speck of light, even my eyes struggled to see.Still, Iknew exactly where she was, sweeping her into my arms and pulling her close.

“Ruby, sweet mate. Ruby,” I whispered into her hair. I was back, but I was not whole, not when my mate was crying like her heart was broken. She felt wrong in my arms, shaped wrong, different. I lifted her,and she clung to me, hands digging into the fur on my shoulders, her face turning into my chest, and tears soaked my pelt right down to the skin.

She did not answer, but as I sank to my knees, cradling her against me, I knew what had happened anyway. My hands, stroking across her body, found no injuries, no source of the blood I’d smelled on her. But her once-taut, round belly was soft and different: flatter, softer, empty.

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