Page 30 of Stolen By the Alien Mercenary

I didn’t like sitting around, and I wished I had access to a screen so I could look through the data Nick had uncovered. All I knew was what little Nick dared to tell me with an audience. It was data related to a drug smuggling and production operation that Batok ran. The data had been by Batok because he’d once intended to sell off that section of his network to another crimelord. A crimelord that had taken a big fall from grace, which was what had triggered Batok to lock me up in that vault.

Waiting was not my strong suit, but it was Nick that had to do the work. I was curious to see how he was going to break us out of this cell, something that seemed to be his specialty. I was already swirling with ideas about writing an article, but that wouldn’t help us now. I hated that I was sitting in his lap, taking his warmth because I couldn’t stay warm on my own, and that was it.

Nick’s visor was a glowing beacon in the dark, his body tense beneath me while his mind worked at rapid speeds. I tried not to distract him and keep watch; we didn’t want anyone to show up and see his visor in action. They might try to take it away if they saw that it functioned. I was instantly picturing this horrible scene where they ripped it from his head. The outside piece detached, but they might decide to take the entire thing, the section that was surgically embedded in his skull.

“Got it,” Nick whispered, just as I tensed, my senses tingling with this feeling of danger. He might have figured something out, but it was too late. I was certain someone was coming, and it wouldn’t surprise me if we’d end up dealing with more than a useless interrogator. We were about to face Batok himself, and it tied my stomach in knots when I realized I might soon see the alien responsible for locking me up.

“Hide,” I said, “Someone’s coming.” I couldn’t really know for sure, but something was setting off all my alarm bells. With my hand, I tapped the side of Nick’s implant and the visor winked out. Maybe it was the way the gargoyle male had gone tense next to us, or maybe it was the faint sound of footsteps that registered just beyond my range of hearing. We were definitely about to have company.

Chapter 22

Mitnick

Harper was on high alert, and her warning was just in time for us to hide my functional implant. It was bad timing. I’d just gotten into their systems and hijacked their communications so I could inform the Varakartoom of the situation, but I hadn’t been able to send the message just yet. The Varakartoom was resourceful, but they wouldn’t be able to figure out where Harper and I were without my help. I was their hacker, that kind of information sourcing was my specialty.

The light was bright when it flared along the floor plates in the cell block, but my eyes adjusted rapidly. The pair of Krektar guards that stomped inside was no surprise, it was the pair that had taken me to the interrogator earlier. This time, a Kertinal male and a Rummicaron followed them. Hirelings a step up from the simple, brutal Krektar, but not much better by the looks of them.

My hearts surged with a boost of adrenaline at the sight, pounding furiously as they flooded my system with strength in preparation for a fight. All to protect my mate. I rose to my feet in a rush and placed Harper behind my back. With my wings spread, she was obscured from their sight. My instincts made me bare my teeth at the males, my crest rising in a threatening display to warn them away. It helped that she was right behind me, safe for now, or I wouldn’t have been able to control the urge to start a fight.

“Stand down,” the Kertinal male barked. It was a male with a lurid orange shade, his black skin looking as dark and impenetrable as my armor against the bright orange zigzag lines that covered him. He wore a gold band around his right biceps, which made it obvious he was in charge. My sharp eyes had no trouble spotting the notches carved into his curling horns, either. His own people had labeled this Kertinal a murderer, and now he proudly displayed his kill count for everyone to see. Unlike the unassuming Rummicaron next to him, he was a foe to watch out for.

I didn’t obey the Kertinal’s order to lose my battle readiness. That was beyond me, and it wasn’t like he could control me. Not like the poor Tarkan in the next cell, who wore a pain collar around his neck like all slaves did. They could make him do anything, but I had no such device around my neck.

The Kertinal only had to point his pain remote at the winged male and it made him move to the front of his cell and assume a kneeling position with his hands behind his head. It was an example. They wanted me to do the same. I raised my hand and shook my middle finger at the male instead. That was an Earth custom that was supposed to be very rude. I’d seen Mandy do it, so I’d researched.

I heard Harper smother an inappropriate and nervous laugh behind me, and I felt a little smug at cheering her up in this situation. Then I locked eyes with the Kertinal’s glowing orange orbs and made sure he knew I wasn’t going to bow to his wishes. He wanted me kneeling? He had to get in here and wrestle me down by force. It was obvious from the look in his eyes that he wasn’t sure if that was a scuffle he was going to win, even four to one. My black armor made it obvious what kind of warrior they were dealing with. The Varakartoom was the only crew in the quadrant that wore armor exactly like this, and we were the best.

The Kertinal conceded with an annoyed growl. “The boss wants to see them.” He jerked his hand at Harper and me, and the Krektar in the front hurried to unlock our cell door with an actual, physical key. I took careful note of it, but it was a simple mechanism. That kind of low-tech security measure wouldn’t pose much of an obstacle later.

I slipped my arm around Harper’s waist and anchored her close to my side, my wing cupped around her back to protect her. Then I led her out of the cell as if we weren’t about to meet a crimelord but were going to attend a party. That asshole Batok wasn’t getting the satisfaction of seeing cowed prisoners; he was in for one big surprise. A very nasty surprise if I had my way.

The guards didn’t try to separate Harper from my side, and the Krektar seemed wary to be made to walk behind us. Despite their hideous appearance, these two weren’t idiots. They marched us past the cell of the Tarkan male, and under the cover of my wing, I tossed the little device Harper had stolen into his cell. I knew she hadn’t recognized what it was, why would she? But that device was going to save that poor gladiator’s life, or at least provide us with a distraction.

I didn’t look at him until we’d passed his cell entirely, but when I glanced back, I could tell from his expression and the eager twitch of his tail that he’d caught it. He was sitting in exactly the same kneeling position as before, hands behind the row of horns on his head. But I was certain he’d shifted his leg to cover the remote to his pain collar with a knee, and the guards had not noticed a thing.

I took advantage of a long corridor when the two guards in the lead weren’t looking back. I activated my visor and sent a message to the Varakartoom. It wasn’t much, just the ship’s coordinates and a “they caught us, distraction appreciated.” I knew whoever was on the bridge would know what to do with it.

The visor winked out when we turned the corner; I couldn’t check if the message was received. I had no personal com device on me to even receive anything on. If the Varakartoom replied, the Communication Officer of this ship would be very confused. The hallways turned from dark and utilitarian to a soft pale blue with jagged geometrical patterns. I assumed these were meant to remind the crimelord of his beginnings on the Hoxiam ice world.

“This is the ship I woke up on the first time,” Harper whispered from beneath the shelter of my wing. I dipped my head to get a read on her face, my protective instincts surging on her behalf. That had to be unpleasant, but I was proud to see that her expression was calm, serene almost. It wasn’t bothering her nearly as much to be here as one might expect. She wasn’t just good at masking it; I couldn’t detect a hint of fear in her scent either.

“This is Batok’s flagship,” I agreed with her. “For now.” That made her smile, and it made the bossy Kertinal glance over his shoulder at me and glare. He didn’t like the obvious implications in my words, but he could go fuck himself. This ship wouldn’t be the same once I got done with it. Even if Batok got away, which was a possibility because I couldn’t calculate every eventuality, this ship wasn’t going to be his pride and joy any longer.

The room they brought us to would have been the captain’s room on the Varakartoom, a place in which the officers had meetings, and the captain could work in private. This room was nearly empty but lavishly decorated. The temperatures were close to subzero to accommodate the Hoxiam’s preference, even if that made the handful of female slaves sitting on pillows at his feet freeze and shiver.

The Hoxiam male looked exactly as I expected. Huge because he was well-fed, and probably on a steady diet of poor unfortunate souls, rather than livestock. He even had a round, protruding gut, hinting at being overweight. Most of him was covered in thick, shaggy blue fur, and his eyes were sunken deep in his face, two glowing orbs of aquamarine. Some scars slashed through his pelt along his shoulders, evidence of his fighting days before he rose to the rank of crimelord. I was willing to bet that any male that had left a mark on him had ended up down his gullet for the crime.

Actual ice sculptures on pedestals lined the walls, shaped like threatening warriors with stern faces. One reminded me of the sinister, now dead, crimelord Drameil, and I did not think that was a coincidence. Anyone would be frightened to see the countenance of one of the Sythral glaring down on them, let alone one as feared back in the day as Drameil.

The Kertinal bowed deferentially in front of his boss, then took up a position at his right-hand side. The rest of our escort fell back, way back, but kept their laser rifles aimed at us to keep us in line. They feared their boss even more than they respected him, which meant the Kertinal was either foolish or very certain of his position. Maybe that gold band around his biceps meant he was even more important than I’d first assumed.

“So, you’re the one that stole from me,” Batok growled. He hadn’t risen from the lazy sprawl on his large chair. He leaned with one elbow on the armrest and twirled his other hand through the long, green hair of the Xurtal female kneeling in front of him. She was trembling from more than just the cold, her eyes were open so wide from terror that I could see their whites. Maybe she wasn’t eye candy, maybe she was intended to be his lunch.

Harper wasn’t showing any fear, though she had stepped closer when we came to a halt. Her slight weight rested against my side, and her hands were curled into the belt around my middle, which was empty of weapons and gear right now. She had to be cold. Her lips had turned an alarming shade of purple, but she was steady as she gazed at the big boss.

I rolled a shoulder. “So what? You weren’t interested, or you wouldn’t have left my female to die in that vault.” I bit back the anger that wanted to come through, the growls that sat heavily in my chest. My hearts pounded for Harper, for the vengeance I wanted to mete out against this bastard. I had to play this cool, I couldn’t risk my mate getting hurt in the fray should combat erupt.

The Hoxiam opened his mouth in a grin that was unnatural in how wide it was, splitting his head nearly in two as his jaws opened. For long seconds we were all staring down into his dark red mouth, rows upon rows of glittering, triangle-shaped teeth, and the black of his gullet. Then he snapped his jaws shut and satisfaction glittered in his aqua eyes at the signs of fear among his troops.