Ensnared Bride (4 page)

“What’s a Krish-kran?”

He grumbled through his nostrils.
 
“A Hax-Rah man contaminated by compassion.”

Oh?
 

He headed back to the elevator once again.
 
“I had a million war-bots functional in eight years.
 
Then I moved on to drones.
 
My army was going to be our secret weapon in the war against the Alliance.”
 
He took his place beside her.
 
“But the war never happened.
 
I have this ship crammed full of robots and no where to go.
 
I’ve had to seek my own missions.”
 

The elevator opened back at his quarters.
 
He led the way out.

“Now you know all about me.”
 
He headed for the seating area.
 
“I talked too much because I’ve been alone so long.”
 

Monica perched a cushion
’s length away from him on a rounded sofa.
 
“I don’t think you talk too much.”

He looked her over.

“I’m glad you’re not like the rest of them.”

His yellow eyes fixed on her in consideration.
 
“I think I’m glad, too.”

“So…the reason you wanted me…”
 
She became sheepish.
 
It was still hard for her to converse smoothly.
 
“It’s because you’re all alone?”

“Yes.”
 
The word was frank.
 
She sensed she was getting some of the honesty he demanded from her.
 
After a moment his yellow eyes focused forward.
 
“Even if I’m the master of a million war-bots, I’m still a Krish-kran.
 
I don’t get to have a Hax-Rah mate.
 
It was a slave, or nothing.”
 
He looked back at her.
 
“But that suited me.
 
I wanted a human female.”

“Why a human?”
 

He half-smiled.
 

Monica kept an unbroken gaze on him.

He leaned further back into the cushions.
 
“Even a suicidal bomber is turning out better than a Hax-Rah woman.”

She let herself sit back also and fumed.
 

“Monica.”

The way he said her name always gave her a shiver.

“I know you’re not suicidal anymore.
 
What I don’t know is if you’ve given up on trying to kill me.”

Her face became plaintive.
 
“I don’t want to kill you.”

He smiled in full.

“That’s a start, isn’t it?”

They sat together at the table to have dinner.
 
The robot seemed to stop limiting her portions with Javintore present.
 
Course after course was brought for them, as well as liquid that had a strong alcohol scent.

“It’s your turn to talk.
 
I want to know who you were before the invasion.”
 
Javintore poured gravy over his meat.

“I was sixteen then.”

“You were still being educated?”

“I was in high school—that’s the last section of school you have to go through.
 
After that you were an adult.”

“Go on.”
 
He tore some green bread (which Monica found tasted similar to wheat bread, except it was sour).
 
“Remember what I said about always being honest.”

She nodded and brushed a brown strand of hair off her forehead.
 
“I um…I lived in a wealthy country.
 
One of the most advanced ones, you know, with space travel and other things.”

“The English speaking country.
 
Where you were in the bunker.”

“Yes.
 
That’s the United States.
 
I actually lived not that far from the bunker.
 
And, it was nice.
 
My dad managed these office buildings for this big company and my mom worked at this semiconductor company.
 
She was born in Kroatia.
 
That’s another country, with a different language.”
 

Monica realized she was meandering.
 
She sat up straighter in her seat.
 
“So, I didn’t have any brothers or sisters.
 
It was just me and my parents.
 
And exchange students.
 
Those are…well, never mind about them.”
 
Why am I so nervous?
 
“I was into swimming.”

“Swimming?”

“You know what that is, right?”

“Swimming was important on Earth?”

“We swam for fun.”

He gave her a nod.

“Not just for fun, though.
 
There were competitions.
 
Races.”

“Oh?”
 
This seemed to pique his interest.

“I was fast.
 
I mean, the fastest at my school.
 
I didn’t even think about swimming at first, but the swim coach said I had the right body for it.
 
Once I got into the water it was…I mean, that’s what I loved to do.”

“How is your body right for swimming?”

She gave a flustered grin.
 
“Long torso and short legs, just about everything I hated about my body.
 
But boy could I swim.”

“Why would you hate your body?”

Her brow rose.

“You’re a dainty, delicate creature.”

She felt her cheeks grow hot.

“Your steps are so light it’s like you glide when you walk.”

Monica stirred her food.
 
“I’m light because they barely fed me.”

He spoke through a blink.
 
“I know.
 
I see the indentations in your skin.
 
Starving someone is sickening to me.”
 
His eyes moved over his plate of food.
 
“I told Zinotem to make you gain wait.
 
You’ll be even more beautiful once you’ve filled out.”

Now she was sure her face blazoned red.
 
She tried to get a hold of herself.
 
It was like she was still a gushing sixteen year old.

“Tell me the rest of your story.”

“Hmm?”
 
She met his yellow eyes.
 
“Oh.
 
Well, after that we were invaded.
 
It was in the news for like weeks.
 
Your fleet was getting closer and closer, but Alliance said they were sending ships to protect us.
 
The president kept saying the fight was just going to be in space, nothing was going to happen, everything was fine.”
 
She shook her head.
 
“Then it all just happened.
 
I was in the shelter under the school and for days we didn’t know what was going on.
 
Then all these aliens, I mean, your people, came and started herding us with those God-awful sticks.
 
I was thrown into the Quonset hut that used to be the old military base.
 
They weren’t able to talk English in the beginning.
 
They kept yelling at us to do stuff with the saccus nuts and no one knew what they wanted.
 
I got shocked so many times—it was a nightmare.
 
When we finally figured out what to do I was just like, oh God, please don’t let me screw up and get shocked again.”
 
Emotion began to build in her voice.
 
“I feel like it’s been that same thing for the last ten years.
 
I don’t know if my mom’s alive.
 
I don’t know if my dad was really killed or not.”
 
Tears dripped down her face.
 
“I didn’t have any time to think about anything.
 
I was just doing what they wanted, trying not to get shocked.
 
Day after day, month after month.
 
Never having two seconds to even…”
 
Her words became too choked to continue.

Javintore watched her with a furrow in his brow.
 
“That’s why you were desperate to make it end.”

Monica rubbed a tear away.
 
He reached across the table to take her hand.
 
The touch, the first gentle touch she
’d felt in years, tingled up her arm and to her spine.
 
She swallowed hard and looked at him.

“I’ll make things better for you.”

Monica snuffled.
 
“You already did.
 
You rescued me.”

He brought her hand to his lips.
 
The kiss set off more tingles, then there was warmth in her middle.
 

“I thought it would be a mistake to bring you to my ship.”
 
He placed her hand back down.
 
His finger gently caressed the back of her palm.
 
“It wasn’t.
 
You’re not a real killer or rebel.
 
You were obviously ensnared.”

She dabbed at her nose.
 
The proclamation made it feel like a beam of light had cracked through the ceiling for them.

Despite the breakthrough Javintore still indicated for her to sleep on the cushioned bench.
 
She wondered if was just being a gentleman now.
 
If that was the case she was even luckier than she
’d first thought.
 

She climbed into her small bed still feeling an ambrosial hum in her middle.
 
Maybe she was still sixteen, and her growth had ceased when she became enslaved.
 
If so, this sixteen year old was allowing infatuation to seep into her brain.
 

She fell into a comfortable slumber with hope brimming inside her.
 
It was a notion unattainable for so long that it brought up instinctive dread.

This led her into her dream.
     

She was at her workstation in the bunker about to finish removing a core.
 
Just as it was about to pop out, it ruptured.
 
Ducra screamed at her from the other side of the room.
 
Then she was next to her, jabbing a tr
’sark into her chest.
 
Monica screamed.
 
Ducra was still yelling at her.
 
She jabbed her a second time before she could draw a breath to beg for mercy.

Her eyes opened to see Javintore
’s face in front of hers.
 
She realized she was screaming.
 
His strong hands were on her shoulders.
 
She jerked from him as though he were Ducra about to zap her once again.

“It was a dream!
 
Wake up!”

She stared at him while gasping.
 
Sweat dripped down her temples and her heart beat a thunderous rhythm.

“It was just a dream, Monica,” Javintore said, softly this time.

She lowered her head.
 
Her body was still quaking in his arms.
 
“I’m sorry.”

He swept back the hair spilling over her forehead.
 
His fingers left soothing trails on her scalp.

“They were despicable to you.”

Monica wiped a stream of tears from her cheek.
 
“I would wake up screaming in the slave bunker too.
 
The overseer slept in another room, so I never woke her up.”

Javintore fumed through his nostrils.
 
He brought an arm below her legs and hoisted her up.
 
Monica clutched his shoulder in a sudden wave of vertigo.
 
He carted to his bed, drew back the covers, and set her down.
 

His large body climbed into the bed beside her.
 
She realized she wasn
’t afraid—he’d broadcast noble intentions.
 
Javintore drew her into his arms.
 
Her dress-clad body pressed against hard warm muscles.
 
Monica looked into his eyes.

“I won’t let you have anymore nightmares.”
 
His hand threaded through her hair.

Monica closed her eyes.
 
The intimate embrace made her head feel floaty.
 
Her head was cradled by his strong shoulder.
 
They were close enough to share body heat, and yet, all he did was sooth her.
 

How can a Hax-Rah be this kind?

“Can you sleep now?”

“I’ll try.”

He pulled the covers over them.
 
Then his lips pressed a kiss against her forehead.
 
Monica felt a rapturous surge from the sweet sentiment.
 
She wrapped her arm around his broad chest and allowed her body to go slack.