Page 6 of Seduced By the Alien Mercenary

Chapter 4

Irena

I carried that with me all through my day as I crawled all over the ship and cleaned like a fiend. I really didn’t want Xathena to be upset with me for slacking off that morning, so I worked hard to catch up. My hands were sore and blistered by the time I slipped into the galley that evening to collect Flack’s evening meal. To my dismay, Trixom had already cleaned everything, and there were no scraps to scavenge for me. I’d have to go hungry tonight, because I sure as hell didn’t dare hope that the prisoner would be so kind as to share his food with me.

“Do not forget to inject him, worm,” the chef warned me as I turned to leave with the tray, silently hoping to get away before he saw me. “And don’t let me see you in here again tonight or tomorrow. You’ve got plague, remember?” He wagged a fat finger at my messed-up face and curled his lips in disgust. His yellowed teeth were chipped but still far sharper and more pointed than mine, and something black was stuck in one corner. He was disgusting, but he thought the same of me. I didn’t know who was worse, though, but I was hoping it was him.

My skirt pocket felt heavy with the contraband I’d smuggled out of a forgotten box in some storage corner. These pirates didn’t know half the things they still had. That came in handy when you needed medical supplies but didn’t dare sneak into the medbay. I was really terrified of the ship’s “doctor,” whom I was pretty sure had majored in medicine at a butcher shop, not med school. That room always looked bloody and unclean, and no matter how often I scrubbed the place, it didn’t seem to help.

With a strange mixture of fear, dread, and hope, I approached the brig that night. My head turned left and right to check that the hallway was empty before I opened the door and stepped inside. No guard for him, because they trusted the shackles and whatever I was supposed to be drugging him with. My eyes darted to the injector Trixom had placed beside the pile of delicious-looking food. What was in it? What did it do? I had no clue, but it hadn’t appeared to help with either pain or making him sleepy last time. I was pretty sure I could rule those options out.

I waited until the door had shut behind me before I lifted my eyes to look at his cell. Afraid, if I were being entirely honest with myself, that my reaction to him would give away far too much—to him, but far worse, to any of the pirates should they happen to see. I knew there were no functioning cameras inside the brig, but the one in the hallway just beyond the door was definitely functioning. It was not something I should be aware of, but I’d seized my chance the moment I had it to memorize all the cameras and their status. Nobody repaired the ones that broke, so in the past months I’d been here, the number of broken cameras had actually grown.

He hadn’t said a word, but I knew he was watching me. Cloaked in shadows because the light was so bad in here, his eyes still caught the light and reflected it back at me. They reminded me of cat eyes, predator eyes. My skin broke out in goosebumps, though it was always muggy and warm everywhere you went on the Vidu.

My stomach rumbled with hunger, but I was used to ignoring it by now. As I moved down the short hallway to the cell at the end, my pulse spiked, and heat shivered through my flesh. That was far more disconcerting, my response to him. When he saw me, he looked at me with a glint in his eyes I had no words for. Was it heat, attraction, calculation? The curl of his mouth was certainly seductive, his bare chest a work of art I couldn’t help but stare at.

“Hi,” I whispered as I paused at the door. My palms had gone sweaty, and I wondered if I hadn’t been looking forward to being here all day—a change, a break from the dreary monotone of despair that filled my life. Unlike yesterday, he hadn’t said a single word yet, but his stare… God, his stare, it was exactly like the one he’d aimed my way back on the bridge. I was certain now: he’d known I was there, but he hadn’t given me away.

“Why, what brings you here, beautiful?” he smirked, amusement at his own joke making his mouth curl. He knew exactly why I was here. Knew I had no choice in any of this, but I kind of liked how he made light of the situation, undaunted by his predicament. “Come to bring me another meal I don’t need? Why don’t you keep me company while you have it yourself?” He wriggled his hand to indicate the empty space on the cot beside him, inviting me to sit right next to him.

Another meal he didn’t need? My empty stomach clenched painfully, leaping at the thought that I could fill it with another warm, solid meal. Last night, I’d eaten so much my stomach had actually hurt from being full. I wanted that again. I hesitated, though, because something felt off, and I didn’t believe he was actually this kind. Nothing was kind without expecting anything in return out here. Nothing and nobody.

He winked at me, his smile growing wider, and the hunger in my stomach was briefly outmatched by a flare of heat. I wasn’t scared of him this time, which was either monumentally stupid or a good thing. Maybe I’d been scared so much already that I was too fatigued to muster it now.

“Are you coming in or not, little one? I won’t bite, promise…” He drawled the last words in such a manner that they felt like an invitation. An invitation to ask him to bite me, not to come in. I fought a chuckle that broke husky and unused from my throat anyway. I shook my head at him, and he smiled again, but it was softer this time, a little pleased.

Balancing the tray in one hand, I opened the cell door and stepped inside. Dimon’s stories raced through my mind, reminding me that this guy supposedly knew all the tricks. A silver-tongued, cold-blooded murderer. Death masquerading behind a pretty face. Standing across from him, I hesitated, certain that sitting down next to him was a bad idea.

“Whatever stories Dimon told you, little one,” Flack said, “they’re probably true.” I stepped back involuntarily when he said that, my back colliding with the bars of his cell. True? Why would he say that to me if he wanted to convince me to help him? I discovered I could be scared after all, fear spiking at his admission. My eyes darted to his thick, manacled wrists, wondering if he had enough leeway to grab my neck and strangle me if I approached.

His smile was wry, his eyes growing dark as his brow lowered over them. Silver hair fell forward as he leaned toward me, almost like he was inviting me to share in a little confidence, a secret. “But I doubt it was the whole truth.” The whole truth. I wasn’t sure if that was supposed to make me feel better. My thoughts spun wildly out of control, hands trembling around the metal tray I held. The plate, spoon, and injector all rattled loudly, but that didn’t snap me out of my increasing panic.

“It’s okay, little one. I swear I won’t harm you.” Flack’s voice reached me from somewhere very distant as my mind filled with images of blood and death—of this beautiful man using his teeth and claws to tear people apart. Scenes described to me in vicious detail by the captain. “Think,” he insisted, his husky voice muted, like it was coming from behind a wall of glass. “Did Dimon tell you any stories in which I harmed a female? Did he? I know he didn’t, because I’d never do that. I’d never hurt you, little human.”

Human? My head snapped up, my eyes meeting his for the first time, straight on. He knew what I was, but for a moment I didn’t believe it was because he was human too. Most people on the ship barely knew what I was, because I was supposedly extremely rare in the Zeta Quadrant.

Only connoisseurs bought humans, and not for scrubbing the deck, or so Isen had told me. That’s why she’d marked my face, carved up my cheek, so I would not be condemned to that kind of fate. The pirates here really thought I was horribly disfigured, carrying a plague they could get if they touched me. They knew nothing about me at all. “You know what I am?” I whispered.

He nodded slowly, his mouth briefly growing tight before it relaxed again into a gentle smile. “I know what you are, but I’d like to know who you are too. Can you do that? Tell me your name?” I swallowed roughly, and then I made a choice I knew I might regret, but what did I have to lose anyway?

Closing the distance between us, I very carefully placed the tray on the cot, as far away from him as possible. We were so close together now, we could almost touch. All he had to do was shift a leg to touch one of mine, but he didn’t. He’d gone so still he seemed frozen, not so much as a muscle twitching save for the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

“My name is Irena,” I said softly, “and you are Flack. Everyone on the ship is scared of you. You know that?” The rumble of something deep and primal filled the air between us, a growl. His eyes glowed like blue fire, his jaw clenched tight. I braced myself to dart out of his reach, but though his muscles tightened, he did not move. I might have gotten slightly, dangerously distracted by how freaking impressive he looked like that. Terrifying, but so hot too. I hadn’t had thoughts like that at all since waking from stasis six months ago, and it caught me completely off guard.

“Good,” he snarled, but it wasn’t a loud snarl. It felt like he was trying to hold back so as not to scare me, but he was overpowered by his anger at the same time. “They should be scared. I’m going to tear them apart, make them pay the moment I get out of these chains.” His eyes shifted from the brig entrance behind me to me, growing soft and warm. “But not you, Irena. Never you. I’ll make them pay for what they did to both of us.”

Both of us… as if we were a team already, and he knew exactly how bad my situation was. Perhaps he did, but it was still hard to believe he could be an ally, someone I was safe with, when he talked of ripping people apart like it was nothing. “Irena,” he said, drawing my attention as if he knew just how close I was to bolting. “What they are doing to you, have done to you—that’s unforgivable. It’s not like that everywhere in the Zeta Quadrant. You can be safe. I’ll make you safe. You can trust me.”

Trust him, do the very thing Dimon, and by extension Xathena, had warned I absolutely shouldn’t do. They were pirates, though, nasty, evil pirates that had enslaved me and pretended I didn’t need food to survive. It wasn’t like I could trust them either, so who did I believe?

Testing the waters very carefully, I dropped my gaze to the blood-soaked bandage on his side. It looked bad; the amount of blood I could see made me think he should be passed out from blood loss, not sitting upright and watching me like I held the answers to all of life’s mysteries. “May I?” I asked, and when he nodded, I reached to peel the sticky bandage from his skin.

I only knew basic first aid, classes I’d taken so I could better perform my tasks as the RA on my dorm floor. Most of my practical experience came from dealing with alcohol intoxication, not this. A stab wound by the looks of it. An actual, honest-to-God stab wound that was deep, too. It had bled profusely and hadn’t begun to scab over yet; the wound probably kept opening up as he so much as shifted. It needed stitches.

“Yeah, that was courtesy of Xathena. I was out cold though, so I can’t be sure. Looks like her handiwork.” Flack sounded so incredibly calm talking about getting stabbed while passed out, like it was a weekly occurrence, not a traumatic, life-threatening injury. He must have seen the shock on my face, because he added gently, “I’m a soldier first, Irena. I can handle a little pain. I’ll be fine. Better with a clean bandage.” I saw how his eyes drifted down to the bulging pocket on my skirt; he knew I had one. He’d seen it.

“I think this needs stitches too,” I said. “Pretty sure it does. Or it will just keep opening and bleeding again…” That was probably why the old bandage was a soaked mess, and more blood had dried on his hip and the edge of his belt. I had made the choice to get close, and he hadn’t harmed me, so I continued. Surely this fell under my duties, too; Dimon wanted him alive, didn’t he?

I took a clean rag and poured some water from the bottle on his food tray onto it. Then I began cleaning away the blood in careful strokes. It wasn’t until I discovered his skin had broken out in fine bumps—goosebumps—that I realized what this did to him, and it wasn’t pain. Very slowly, I raised my head to meet his gaze. His blue eyes glowed with an inhuman light, casting shadows on his face, and his mouth had twisted into a grimace, not of pain, but of pleasure.

“Please,” he begged, “continue. Don’t mind me or my body’s reaction. It is only because you are so very beautiful.” His voice was beyond husky, a deep, hoarse kind of rasp that came from deep inside his wide chest. His nipples were perked, and his thighs were clenched tight, as were the fists holding onto his chains. In another of those either stupid or brave moves, I actually looked at his groin and nearly tumbled backward onto the floor when I saw the massive bulge that had grown there. Fuck, he was huge. His cock had to be massive, and fully erect inside the confines of his black pants. For me, because of how I was touching him when cleaning his wound.

“Liar,” I accused from nearly across the narrow cell. My heart pounded furiously in my throat, and the fear was back. It was the one fate I’d avoided, Isen’s mark and the superstitious beliefs the crew held, keeping me safe from that. Now he said I was beautiful? I didn’t believe that kind of attraction was real; this was just another way he thought he could convince me to help him. It had to be. Well, it backfired, because now I saw right through it all.

“Liar?” Flack asked, the glow in his eyes beginning to dim and his body losing some of the tension that had made him arch his spine. “I am no liar, little one. I never lie, and you are truly beautiful, though I am forever grateful that Dimon and his idiots don’t see that.” Then his voice grew firmer, more commanding. “Now come back here, Irena. Come back and finish what you started.” His words made my mind flash with all kinds of naughty options, like climbing into his lap. He was a master at seduction—I had to give him that—but I still didn’t believe him.

My eyes dropped to his wound, and with a sigh, I forced myself forward so I could at least put a new bandage on. I slid my hand into my pocket as I leaned in closer and encountered the other item I’d brought with me. I couldn’t read the packaging on the small box, but it looked like a handheld scanner of some kind. Should I show it to him? See if he knew how to use it? That wound wasn’t going to heal properly without a lot of time—or more aid than I could offer. Did I care about his speedy recovery?

“What is it, sweetheart?” he asked. “I can see the gears spinning inside your pretty head.” There was a husky chuckle that made his abs dance, and I quickly yanked my eyes back up. My fist tightened around the narrow box as I yanked it out of my pocket and held it up between us. I knew this could all be trickery, but it felt good to believe in something more hopeful than dying of hunger on a pirate ship. That future of safety—and yes, vengeance—that he offered.

“That’s a tissue regenerator, clever girl!” he cooed. I blinked, eyed the unreadable text on the box, and then finally made the call and ripped open the packaging with shaking hands. Maybe the shaking was because my blood sugar was dangerously low, but it was nerves too. “Just flick the button and aim. It does all the work, the basics, at least, but that should be enough.” There was a sound to his voice that sounded like relief, and it was that edge that convinced me to do what he said.

I aimed the device at his wound, but he hissed, so I froze. “No. The cuts on your face first, Irena. Heal yourself with that.” My mouth dropped open, surprise filling me so much that I just froze. Heal myself? Heal… My hand drifted to the awful damage on my cheek, faltering before I could touch it because it was a nasty, constant ache. It was infected, I knew that, and though it had been months, none of the cuts had truly closed. Evidence, according to the pirates, that I had some kind of plague, and I had almost begun to believe it myself.

Heal me? He was the one who’d been stabbed, was he scared I’d make him sick too? But the look in his eyes, it made my stomach curl, not with heat but with a warmth all the same. It felt like he cared, like he was putting me first. No, I couldn’t believe that. So I sat there, frozen, my mind spinning as I tried to understand, and coming up short every single time.