Feral Series IV: Feral Fallout (6 page)

One of his almost-white eyebrows arched. “Are you saying you do not find me attractive? I'll have you know my mother originates from a planet renowned for the beauty of its people.” He cracked the faintest sly grin across the somewhat elongated features of his face, making the soft overhead recessed lighting shimmer on his clean-shaven cheeks.

An unsettling expression that coiled in my gut, low, almost with a sense of yearning. But I wasn't ready to except that sensation as even possible. Not with Wrank waiting. Too many things like my ass and sanity laid on the line with Bluebeard in charge. “I didn't say you were ugly. I did say that whether or not I found a !Dakos warrior physically appealing was a relative matter."

His eyes pinched slightly. “You truly have the makings of a politician. Your commander chose you well as the mate of Prall's King."

Maybe. Maybe not. The jury was still out on that one.

"Why you, Theone? What secrets do you hide that Commander Goro chose you for this duty?"

The same question had played over and over like an all-too-much-played DVD stuck on one bit of a scene ever since Goro uttered the lovely revelation that M'yote was taking me to meet my mate. “I learned to fly various vehicles back home. Throw in my electrical engineering training—its innate nature for reasoning and the inner-workings of electrical systems—with my childhood infatuation with martial arts, and Goro must have had an instant solution to breaking and entering. I could be trained to manually operate this spacecraft. My goal is to infiltrate and release your brother. Success is possible."

M'yote nodded, the slow deliberate nods rustling his head full of pirate braids. “You just might."

"Given I don't succumb to the sexy wiles of the wicked cyborgs, eh?"

"You have no idea,” he muttered.

The revulsion or pure dread on his face only made my gut twist.

Intuition or not, an end had to follow the !Dakos’ means. “So, if they catch and conquer my heart, what will they ultimately do with me?"

"Use you for reproduction."

The cold sterile answer rattled my bones.

"When we arrive, Theone, stay close to me. Do nothing to set off a battle. This is a prison. I expect the most extreme !Dakos behavior in the prison guards."

What if I'm captured, dragged into Hell alone? “How can you help me if we're separated?"

"That is a possibility.” His thoughtful gaze slid to the distant orange glow of a nebula.

"Well, what can I do going in? Carry weapons? Which ones?"

"We're going to simulate a crash landing."

Oh shit. “How?"

His blue gaze snapped to mine. “That's your expertise. And when we crawl from the wreckage, you're welcome to have whatever you can strap to your body to use in your self-defense. I won't deny you that luxury as we head into face the toughest weapon in the universe. Remember, even the psychic emperor Voldon couldn't control the !Dakos."

How? “You'll have to fill me in on that one."

"The !Dakos opted to exchange their biological brains for computer augmentation. Ultimately, even telepaths can't read their minds. Not even Voldon. He was powerless with the only thing that allowed him to control over half the universe—mind control."

Well, that's what I was so treasured for—my lesser-evolved psychic ability cropping up around the roots of the psychic tree, intuition. And life without telepathic communication wasn't so bad when you factored in your privacy. Just what would life be like with all sorts of presences shoving into your mind or eavesdropping? But the real problem lay in surveillance of bad boy cultures. The !Dakos couldn't be controlled or monitored because of their augmented brains. Not by Voldon or Goro. Lucky guys.

Theo plopped down into the pilot's seat after disconnecting some key wires in the nearby wall. Any second the computer would detect blaring bells and whistles.

"Navigational systems have failed. Engines have failed.
The Savior
has nine Earth minutes before being pulled through Treusch's orbit,” the computer warned.

Bingo. Plan A unraveling as planned. “Orbit deterioration acknowledged,” I noted. Just in case the ship was under surveillance, I had to play the part.

"Remember the pheromones, Theo. It's the pheromones !Dakos use against females."

"Incoming communication from the planet's surface,” the computer announced.

Two clicks noted the communication channel had opened. “Unidentified spacecraft, identify yourself,” the male's demanding command insisted.

Cap'n Bluebeard shot me a half-cocked smile.

Alright, game on. Time to feign ignorance. “Computer, allow me to respond to the hail."

"Communication channel open."

"Treusch authorities, this is Captain Kemble of
The Savior
, a personal transport. I'm experiencing both navigational and engine system failure. Both will resort in my vessel being pulled into your planet's orbit and a forced landing. Can you assist?” Would the !Dakos warrior fall for the ploy? I shot M'yote a wary glance.

"Captain Kemble, remove your ship from Treusch air space or your ship and passengers will be confiscated."

Yes! Confiscation seemed survivable. Surviving impact seemed so improbable. At least for me, the un-augmented mortal. Perfect scenario.

I winked at Bluebeard and focused on the discussion with my invisible foe. “Sir, my ship's electrical system is shot. I must plead for assistance. You have less than eight minutes to act before my ship plummets toward your planet's surface. I beg you to take pity upon me and my passenger. When we crash, we'll hit hard. Idle threats won't save our asses.” That should piss them off.

"Two large fighter craft approaching my starboard side, Captain Kemble,” the computer warned.

M'yote's positive gloved-hand gesture only made me wonder what in the world to expect as I met Satan's army.

"Captain Kemble, prepare to be boarded."

A second passed.

"Welcome to Treusch,” a deep-timbered voice said behind us.

Hell's welcome wagon just beamed aboard. It's a pity they weren't anything like the good guys in all those sci-fi movies. The caring kind. The guys with biological brains and hearts. I turned, slowly, rising.

Bluebeard hadn't lied. The most glorious male I'd ever seen stood before two others. Neither of them had similar facial features. The one up front had an Asian shape to his eyes. Almond luminous eyes. Whereas, one of his companions looked like an albino. The third cyborg just reminded me of a Jarhead on steroids. Not one carried a weapon I could see. But M'yote had been correct. All the bulking muscle, the broad shoulders, the bare torso painted with incredible tattoos, the silver pants, the plain black boots, the normal-colored hair long enough to be pulled back into a queue, everything about these men resonated sex appeal. Even with the !Dakos warrior who cropped his black hair short.

No, I couldn't smell a thing. But what did a jolt junkie know about pheromones?

"Captain Kemble, you will approach me and prepare to be transported to Treusch's surface,” the Asian cyborg said, light glinting in his glowing amethyst eyes.

Was that a little humor or flirtation in the twinkling flash? “What about my passenger?"

"We don't care what happens to M'yote."

Shit. They know who he is. The clock is ticking. And they're extending the damned plank. “You can't leave my passenger here. And how in the hell do you know his name?"

The three cyborgs didn't move, didn't blink. Their chests didn't even rise or fall.

At least a minute passed.

We're going to die standing here while the boys waste precious moments in shutdown or chitchat mode.

"Captain Kemble,
The Savior
has entered Treusch's outer atmosphere,” the computer warned. “Five minutes until the ship plummets toward the planet's surface."

"Crap. I don't have time for computations. Or whatever you boys are up to. We're going to fucking die.” If these morons don't get their shit together. I spun to the console and fell into my seat. “Come on. There's no time for this,” I growled, jerking and poking things to look officially agitated about dying.

Something strange happened.

I sat reaching for a red light. Blinking. But the warning light flashed into blackness. The entire world went obsidian. And then I collapsed onto hard rock. A floor. Cobbled with flagstone. That bit my ass.

Jarhead's black boots rooted into the pavement beside my knee. He reached down, grabbed me under my arm, and heaved me to my feet. “I am Flonn. You are my mate."

All I could do was stare into his fluorescent emerald eyes. Eyes that drew me in so deep, so, so very deeply that I almost smiled and inhaled his clean-musky-mixed-with-soap scent. Odor of a real man. Maybe a little Irish Spring?

Sex appeal.

But I'd been warned, and some dark ominous death-march music began playing in my head. Shouldn't a guy in a black cape show? Oh, wait, that's M'yote! And I'm this one's mate? “Well, you guys don't waste any time. Do you, Big Boy?"

The most gorgeous smile split his cheeks, giving him adorable dimples.

Adorable? He's part of Satan's army. I think. I tried to yank my arm out of his tight grasp. “Look, Romeo, where's my passenger?"

"My name is
Flonn
. Your cargo stands right behind you."

Trapped in the enormous bastard's grip, I turned.

M'yote stood silently, cuffed at the wrists with the other two !Dakos warriors flanking his shoulders. Both at least a good five inches taller than my pirate captain.

"What are you doing to him?” I snarled. “He's done nothing wrong."

The cyborgs chuckled full-bodied laughs like Vikings in movies, setting off waves of ripples across their muscled bodies.

We truly were just travelers for all they knew. I snapped my gaze back to Flonn. “We haven't done anything wrong. You can't detain us like this."

The big cyborg's eyes pinched ever-so-slightly as if he sympathized with me. But then the sensation vanished. “You are mine. He is a !Dakos prisoner."

"Why?” I yanked my arm futilely again.

"Because things are dull around here these days,” the !Dakos warrior with almond-shaped eyes blurted. He and his partner each grabbed one of M'yote's shoulders under the arm and shook him. “This one can keep us entertained while you and Flonn get to know each other."

Uh, universe, I'm mated to Wrank.

The two cyborgs dragged a nonresistant M'yote through a doorway until I lost sight of the heels of his boots.

So much for any sort of rescue from my partner who knew all about this part of the universe.

"Now
we
have business between us,” Romeo rumbled.

His mouth engulfed mine before I could scramble a thought.

Hot. Hungry. Tasting of something beefy. Char-grilled ribeye? Heavy on the pepper by the zing. Geesh. He had to breathe for me as my knees buckled. I caught myself with an arm hooked around his corded neck, sinking into a cloud of muscles. And that silken black hair. God his short wavy locks. The hair of a Grecian athlete. Just long enough for me to grab as I thrust my tongue into the hot cavern of his mouth.

Whoa! Wait. What was happening?

His monster hands slid down my back to grab two handfuls of my ass. And then he squeezed and pulled my body into his hard steely crotch.

Yes. Yes. Yes. I climbed up him and wrapped both legs around his trim waist, using both hands to anchor myself at his head.

Damn. Even his ass was rock-hard. The bulge of his butt kept me from sliding down his body like a fireman's pole with speed bumps.

Bump was a really really bad word at the moment with the one he sported on his front side. That's the one that needed to impale my weight. Suspend me at this point forever in the universe. But I forgot about it almost instantly as he marched his wonderful mouth down to the bend in my neck. Yes, the one I magnified by arching my neck away from the suction of his amazing lips.

He pressed my back against a solid wall and riddled the most seductive siren's call from me.

Deep. Breathy. Almost a moaning whale song. Something one would find after stepping off the plank and making a huge splash. The kind of whale song that lured a girl deeper into the murky depths of peace and tranquility. “Gods, take my clothes off, Flonn."

Muscles flexed everywhere. Popping and rolling as he pulled off my boots with one hand and kept sucking up a wild pulse at my jugular. Holding me still with that teasing lump at my crotch.

!Dakos are bad.
Right
. Killers. Yes. Why wasn't he ripping out my jugular with his teeth?

My leather shirt fell to the floor, leaving my skin to shiver from the cool kiss of air against my warm vulnerable skin. Why in the hell wasn't he sucking on my nipple?

His rough palm moved.

Bless, Flonn. He used those large palms to rub glorious friction from my nipples. Then he withdrew far enough to gaze down as his hands slid down to the patch of pale hair marking my sex and shot me a wicked grin. There, in the hairs, down in those little coils he so obviously loved to touch, his fingertips lingered.

Tickling. Making my sex weep for him. Gods, I couldn't stop squirming. “Flonn!"

"You are my woman,” he said.

Yes. Yes. “Yes. Just finish what you started!” Before I lose my freaking mind.

He squirreled away the waist of his pants producing something seriously large and firm that tried to wedge up between the non-existent space between our bodies below our navels.

Well, maybe it could pry through there. But come on. That's not where I
really
wanted the damned thing. “Flonn!” I growled.

He leaned over, buried my scowl beneath his hot damp mouth, and grabbed my ass to support my weight as he lifted my body just enough to wedge a firmness into my sex's mouth.

Yes. Yes. I tried to wriggle in his grasp. To worm that handy tool inside me. Not an easy task. But I managed to squirm until the most amazing thickness penetrated the opening of my aching channel.

Flonn withdrew his mouth again to gaze down at the source of delicious pressure.

That sensation I focused on rotating my hips to engulf. I chanced my own glance but could see nothing given his body supported my weight.