Page 15 of Infala: Her Alien Protector
“Shit!” he hissed as the Formikan bit his flesh where she’d pinched the wound together.
With a quick twist she snapped its head off and gently moved back. The insect’s powerful pincers stayed locked firm.
“Sweet. It works.”
“You’re going to stitch me up with bugs?”
“Yes. And no bitching about it,” she said as he winced from the next bite. “We don’t have any other option, and these seem to be holding just fine.”
He took a deep breath and focused on relaxing, the effort disrupted repeatedly as she sealed up the wound quite tight with the angry little insects. A few minutes later she was done, the bleeding completely stopped.
“There. That’ll do. At least for now.”
Zepharos looked down, and despite the pain he couldn’t help but admire both her handiwork and ingenuity.
“Nicely done. Very nicely done, indeed.”
“Thank you. Now, are you up to walking?”
“And here I thought that was supposed to be my line,” he said with a chuckle.
Maria grinned. “Tell you what. You can have it back later. But for now?—”
“For now, we must keep moving, yes.” He rose to his feet, moving his body this way and that, testing the firmness of the unusual field dressing. Amazingly, the Formikan heads were holding. “Okay, one foot in front of the other. Pain is all in your mind,” he reminded himself.
“So, you’re good?”
“Yes. And you are right. We have a lot of ground to cover. Your absence will undoubtedly be noted by now, and soon theywill come looking. But rest assured, I have no intention of making it easy for them. Come on. This way.”
He started walking, his human charge following close. They had been cold and wet, but at least the former was changing the more they moved. As for the wet part, it would take several hours for them to fully dry out, and by then the thought of a dip in cool water would sound delightful. But they pressed on, working hard knowing someone or someones would be coming for her. When and how were the only questions.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The alarm had been of the quietest variety. In fact, only a scant few had any idea that the empty cell where their captive human had been held was vacant not by the directive of the elite overseers, but rather a monumental fuck up by their own guard staff.
The two who had been in charge at the time of her disappearance as well as the pair on duty when the fake body under the covers ruse she’d used in her escape was discovered were nowhere to be found. Nor would they be. Whether merely sent to a distant and miserable posting or something more permanent no one would know, just that they had been “reassigned” immediately and that was all there was to it. No one questioned Chancellor Vinchi, after all.
The rest of the staff of guards and service personnel simply saw an empty cell where it had formerly been occupied. It wouldn’t be the first time such a thing had happened. Prisoners moved around all the time, after all. This one was just likely already sent ahead to serve her indenture at one of the chancellor’s properties. After all, who would even begin to suspect something else?
Frakkus, the enraged chancellor’s right-hand was who, and the man was boiling over with second-hand fury. His master was upset; therefore so was he. But he was a skilled and devious man, a master schemer and plotter of all manner of things, legal and not. To thrive as the chancellor’s go-to aide he would have to be. And now those skills would be put to the test at his master’s behest.
A story was concocted, workshopped with his closest assistants, then put into action. To the select few who had to know, the story was there had been a violent abduction of the property of the chancellor, and he wanted her back. Naturally, it had to be kept quiet as it was an embarrassing incident and one the chancellor would set right. This made it appear as if the chancellor had been the victim of nefarious acts rather than a few incompetent staff who chose to enjoy the game rather than stay on post doing their jobs. One reflected poorly on his staff, and therefore himself by extension, while the other gave him an out. One that would be understandable if word of his hunting parties should leak out.
“We’re sending hunting teams?” a grizzled veteran of the chancellor’s personal guard asked.
Frakkus had known the man and worked closely with him for years. A trusted and competent man. He didn’t enjoy lying to him, but while this one man might be able to keep the true cause a secret, the others he had no such confidence in. Lips were loose, and secrets inadvertently leaked from time to time despite the best of intentions. The only option was total operational security, and that started at the top.
“Yes, we are,” he replied to the man with a nod. “The chancellor is upset, and understandably so. An act of aggression has been perpetrated against his house; the stealing of his property. And we are sending rapid-response hunter teams out to put this issue to rest at once.”
“I understand,” the guard replied. “But with the games in full swing, our house, along with the other elites, have most of their top people deployed on duty as?—”
“Just do it,” Frakkus said, perhaps a little more forcefully than he would have liked. But he and the guard had a long understanding, and the reason for his tone was obvious. Frakkus didn’t need it for him, but he had to put on a bit of a show for the others.
“Of course, Frakkus. I’ll round them up at once.”
“And bring in the chancellor’s best trackers. You know the ones of whom I speak.”
“You want outsiders brought in?”
