Page 42 of Pact with the Alien Devil

I wiped sweat from my eyes. “I count at least fifteen.”

“Seventeen.” Korvan’s keen Vinduthi senses never ceased to amaze me. “And their leader is with them.”

As if summoned by Korvan’s words, a tall figure stepped forward, flanked by armed mercenaries. Raxin. The memory of Miggs’ confession flashed through my mind—Raxin had been the true traitor all along, feeding intel to the Spikes for months.

“Korvan!” Raxin called out, his voice carrying across the depot. “Your position is compromised. Your reinforcements won’t arrive in time. Surrender now, and perhaps Alkard will find your corpse with some dignity intact!”

Korvan snarled beside me, his sharp canines bared. I’d never seen that level of raw hatred on his face before.

“You think I fear death, traitor?” Korvan shouted back.

Raxin laughed. “No. I think you fear failure. You’ve always been a fool, Lieutenant. Blind loyalty instead of looking to the future, looking for a better chance. How far do you really think you can go, always working under Alkard and his circle?”

I thought of how he’d arranged Miggs’ escape, how he’d sabotaged our missions, all while maintaining the façade ofloyalty. The betrayal would have cut Korvan deeper than any blade.

I gripped my blaster tighter. If I could just get a clear shot...

Korvan turned to me. “Stay here.”

“What? No?—”

But he was already moving, faster than I thought possible given his injuries. He vaulted over our barricade and charged directly into the mercenaries’ line of fire.

I cursed and followed him, firing rapidly to provide cover. The mercenaries scattered, some dropping under our combined assault. Korvan moved like a predator born for war, claws extended, cutting through the ranks like a storm. But even he couldn’t take on this many alone. And I wasn’t about to let him try.

I spotted a clear path to Raxin’s exposed flank. If I could just circle around those fuel canisters?—

The world exploded in white-hot pain.

I hadn’t seen the grenade. One moment I was running, the next I was airborne, then slammed hard against the metal floor. My ears rang. Blood trickled down my forehead, into my eyes. I tried to stand but my legs refused to cooperate.

Through blurred vision, I watched as Korvan engaged Raxin. They collided with bone-jarring force, trading blows that would have killed a human instantly. Raxin caught Korvan across the face, opening a new wound.

Raxin smiled when he saw Korvan’s injury. From his belt, he pulled a small device and pressed it. A fine mist sprayed into the air between them.

Raxin remained safely beyond the dispersal radius, a thin protective shield shimmering almost imperceptibly over his skin—clearly, he'd come prepared with countermeasures against his own weapon.

Korvan staggered back, his face twisted in pain. I watched in horror as the wound on his side—which should have already begun closing—started bleeding more heavily.

“Like it?” Raxin called out. “Courtesy of the research you tried to steal from us. Disrupts Vinduthi cellular regeneration. Your famous healing response won’t save you now, Lieutenant.”

Korvan growled, pushing through the pain. “It’ll take more than your experimental toys to stop me.”

But I could see the truth—whatever Raxin had deployed was working. Korvan was weakening faster than he should have been. The biological weapons weren’t just a theory anymore. They were real.

“You should’ve joined me, Korvan,” Raxin said as they circled each other. “Alkard’s reign is over. The Spikes will take everything, and you’ll die defending a corpse of a syndicate.”

Korvan wiped blood from his mouth. “You’ll regret underestimating me.”

They clashed again, their movements almost too fast for my human eyes to track. But I saw enough to know Korvan was slowing. His earlier injuries, combined with the brutal pace of this fight, had taken their toll. Raxin drove him back, step by step, until Korvan’s shoulders hit the wall.

Raxin pinned him there, forearm pressed against Korvan’s throat, and drew back his fist for what would likely be a killing blow. The remaining mercenaries watched, waiting for their leader to finish this.

My blaster lay just a few feet away, knocked from my hand in the explosion. I dragged myself toward it, ignoring the fire in my ribs that suggested at least one was broken. My fingers closed around the grip.

Don’t miss. Don’t miss.

I steadied my arm as best I could, aimed, and fired.

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