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Chapter 13

Dirt and sweat cameoff Hunter’s face as he swiped his hand across it. His muscles burned, his stomach grumbled with hunger, and his pack weighed heavily on his back.

He’d forgotten what it felt like to be on grunt duty. He didn’t hate it, but his muscles were getting used to the new routine.

The squad he’d been assigned to were coming to the end of a four-hour patrol, and he’d be glad to collapse on his bunk and down the high protein meal waiting for him.

Hunter had been on Rowick for three days, and other than a brief skirmish when they disturbed a small group of Gilab poking around a supply depot, he hadn’t seen any direct fighting. But he’d done a hell of a lot of tedious patrols, investigating possible locations of enemy hideouts. They’d destroyed three and come across a couple of Gilab who’d given themselves up and handed over the explosives they were stupidly thinking about using.

He was itching for a battle, but so far, they’d failed to find anything to sooth his bloodlust.

Hunter patted the metal knuckle duster in his pocket. He carried it everywhere as a talisman of hope and a reminder of his real crew.

Jafar walked beside him, and another Apexian, Kaleb, was on his other side.

Hunter was part of a good crew. They were hard-working Apexians, all looking to make a name for themselves in the troop by either rising up the ranks, or getting assigned to a better detail. They fought well, and he trusted them. But it wasn’t the same as being on the Apocalypse.

His eyes misted, and Hunter cursed under his breath and gritted his teeth. Fuck, he missed Cleo. He missed her laugh, the sweet smell of the shampoo she used, and that stunning smile she gave him each morning was like a welcome hug.

“What’s on your mind?” Jafar said.

Hunter shrugged. “Sleep. Food. The usual.”

“He’s got that look again,” Kaleb said.

“What look?”

“The look that says you’ve got a woman waiting for you somewhere, and you’d rather be rolling under the covers with her, than covered in dirt and sweat while you hang with us.”

Hunter shook his head. “It doesn’t matter if I do. I’m stuck here until the tour is up. Then I don’t get a decision as to where to go next.”

“But you have got someone?” Jafar said.

“Maybe. How about you?”

“I’m a lean, mean fighting machine. I don’t have any time for women.”

“Which is code for he can’t get laid no matter how hard he tries,” Kaleb said.

Hunter grunted out a laugh. “Is that so?”

“I can have any woman I want. I’m just... picky,” Jafar said.

“You keep telling yourself that, friend.” Kaleb leaned closer to Hunter. “It’s his smell. Or it could be his looks. Maybe it’s the deformed feet. Have you seen those nails? They could gut a giant hog with a single slice.”

Hunter laughed. He’d missed this, working alongside a tough group of Apexians as they picked off the bad guys. But it was no replacement for being with Cleo. He’d give anything to be back on the ship, sifting through paperwork with her and listening to her grumble about High Command’s latest idiot directive.

“There he goes again,” Jafar said. “Getting all misty-eyed.”

“She’s called Cleo,” Hunter said. “We worked together on the Apocalypse.”

“A human?”

“Yep. That was the deal on the ship. Each human conservationist got an Apexian partner. She’s the brains, I’m the muscle. Well, most of the time. And it worked. Humans and Apexians work well together.”

“The Apocalypse?” Kaleb said. “I’ve heard of that ship. You send animals to some sanctuary, don’t you?”

“We stop space scum taking rare animals and make sure they have a safe place to thrive.”