Текст книги "The Alien’s Bond"

Автор книги: Kira Quinn

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

OceanofPDF.com

CHAPTER FOUR

Darla fell silent for a long moment as the harsh reality of her situation finally sank in for real. Up until this point it had all been big talk and crazy sci-fi hypotheticals, but now? She’d seen the Raxxians firsthand, and the huge aliens were even worse than what she’d imagined. It was a lot to process, but after pinching herself several times she had arrived at the cold, harsh reality that no, she was not dreaming.

In short, she was screwed.

“Actual aliens,” she muttered. “We’ve been abducted by aliens.”

Maureen had watched the gears turning in her head as she came to terms with the situation. She’d been there not so long ago. They all had.

“Yep. It’s a lot, I know, but that’s the deal.”

Darla looked at the others in the room, milling about, talking amongst themselves, or curled up fetal in their bunks, wishing they were anywhere but here. It was the latter that really hit her. The psychologically damaged ones.

“Okay, I’ve read about this kind of thing. There was a whole thread about it online. First, they take us to do weird experiments on us, then they’ll turn us into slaves or something.”

A short man with thick red hair pulled into a bun laughed hard at that. He was nearby, sitting with his back against the wall, and it seemed Darla’s comment had been the funniest thing he’d heard all day.

“Oh, you wish,” he said, wiping tears of amusement from his eyes.

“Play nice, Diego.”

“Don’t worry, Maureen, I’m just making conversation.”

“Hang on,” Darla interrupted. “What does he mean, I wish?”

Diego’s grin widened but he kept his laughter under wraps. “Let’s just say there’ll be no anal probes here,” he said with a wink.

“Don’t knock it till you try it,” she shot back.

“Ooh, feisty. I like this one. I hope they let her stay for a while. Most of the others are so depressing.”

“With good reason,” Maureen noted.

He nodded, his grin faltering slightly. “We make the most of our circumstances, is all I’m saying.”

“Hey, what are you two talking about? If they didn’t take us to study and experiment on, then why?”

“Because you are livestock,” a deep voice said from one of the dimly lit recesses in the wall.

The rustling from his bunk got everyone’s attention. From the shadows of the resting place, a pair of large feet swung out into the light. Very large. And judging by the boots, not human.

The owner of the feet unfolded from his bunk, stretching up to nearly seven feet in height, rolling his massive shoulders and neck as he stood up tall. He was wearing a tattered pair of trousers, the large bulge straining the fabric of the crotch making Darla wonder about the specifics of alien physiology. She peeled her eyes free and continued her assessment. He was also wearing a form-fitting tunic that had clearly seen better days. There were stains on his clothing. Blood, by the look of it. Given his robust physical condition, Darla doubted it was his.

The alien’s skin appeared to be a tough but supple hide, similar to what you might find on a beast rather than a person, but lacking hair or scales she almost expected of an alien. It looked as though he had a deep tan, almost like one would see on Earth. At least at first glance. But when he moved, the light shifted across his body and she could see the golden tone almost reflecting from the exposed flesh, making her wonder what he looked like in natural sunlight.

Dark tattoos peered out from the edges of his garments, the winding lines tracing his musculature, running all the way to his wrists and hands, it seemed. And those hands possessed five fingers, like humans, but longer and somehow different. It took her a moment before she realized he had extra joints in those meaty digits.

Of course he does. He’s a freaking alien.

While the others averted their gazes from the imposing figure, Darla was tired, freaked out, and more than a little pissed off at her situation. She pulled her eyes from his impressive physique and forced them upward, following his thick neck to his strong jaw and angular cheekbones until they met his own bright gaze. He was clearly alien, but kind of attractive, in a massive, beastly sort of way.

And his eyes? They were not what she expected from such a powerful-looking man. They were fierce, no doubt, but were also a beautiful shade of violet, the irises rimmed in gold.

He cocked his head ever so slightly at the unusual little human’s strong gaze locked with his. Feisty, indeed.

“What did you say?” she demanded, not looking away.

“I said, you are livestock,” he repeated.

“Livestock? How do you mean?”

His enormous shoulders shrugged ever so slightly. “You are not to be sold as slaves. You do not have that sort of value to the Raxxians. And your kind is not worth experimenting on.”

“Then what?”

“You are food, little one. Nothing more. The Raxxians are voracious, and your kind are a convenient species to fill their larder.”

Darla felt her stomach drop to her feet as her blood flowed cold at his words. Their captors were enormous lizard people. And just like Komodo Dragons or other apex predators, it made sense that they would eat meat. Unfortunately, that diet now included humans. Suddenly she realized why the woman called Mei was so quiet. She was the last of her batch of captives. Who knew what sort of horrors she had witnessed.

But this one, this alien, he wasn’t human, so why was he in here with them? He looked like he could give the Raxxians a run for their money in a fight. Maybe that was how he wound up here in the first place, and how his clothes got so torn up.

A lightbulb flashed on in Darla’s mind.

“Hang on a minute. Why do you speak English?”

“I do not.”

“You’re speaking it right now.”

“You are mistaken, but I will clarify, yet again, as I have had to do for most of your cohort. You have been marked with the translation rune. It is a weak pigment with very limited power normally used only on livestock and lesser creatures.”

“I’m sorry, you’ve lost me here. A translation what, now?”

Maureen turned her head and lifted her hair, showing the small symbol tattooed behind her ear. Several others did the same, all bearing the same mark. The alien, likewise, showed her the marking behind his ear, though his was more ornate and with a darker ink that seemed to shift under his skin ever so slightly.

“These are translation runes. Symbols that harness the power of the pigment, allowing us to understand one another,” the alien said. “In the case of livestock, such as yourselves, it tends to be less robust, but it serves its purpose.”

“Its purpose being?”

“To make it easier to direct animals,” he replied matter-of-factly. “When your beasts understand, one can direct them without the need of prods or ropes.”

Darla hated to admit it, but it made sense. She raised her hand, touching the area behind her ear. She almost jumped when her fingertips grazed the still-tender flesh where she had been marked. The area was warm, almost tingling with the pigment still fresh in her skin.

Dammit, my first tattoo and it’s as some freaking alien cattle?

She was more than a little pissed that after all those years not giving in and getting impulsive ink on a drunken bender with Tammy and the others, she was finally a member of the club. Only this version was not a club she wanted to be a part of. Not one bit.

“How is this possible? It’s just ink,” she wondered aloud.

“Not ink. Pigment,” the alien corrected. “Living color, extracted from very powerful plants, bonded to your flesh to provide certain enhancements.”

“Hang on. You’re saying this is magic ink—I mean, pigment?”

“Magic? Hardly. It is a core power of the universe, harnessed by a few certain species of plant life from their contact with sunlight and galactic energies, condensed into pigments that can enhance a person’s natural abilities when combined with the correct runes to direct its power. And in return, the host’s own life force keeps the pigment alive. It is a very beneficial, symbiotic relationship.”

He rolled up his torn sleeve to reveal an even more muscular and defined arm than she had envisioned. From the back of his hand, black and brown lines traced his muscles, small symbols, or runes as he called them, interwoven into the flowing design as it ran all the way up, disappearing under the cloth.

Darla found herself wondering just how far those designs went. They were beautiful. Alien. And as she looked at the faintly moving ink under his skin, she felt something far different than fear in her belly.

“These are power runes,” he said, pointing to his arm. “This one gives strength. And this one endurance.”

Without thinking, Darla reached out and touched his arm. As her fingers traced the design, the warm fluttering inside her grew even stronger, moving lower and lower. She shifted in her stance, clenching her legs together tightly in a little shimmy as she lifted her hand free and stepped back from him.

No way, Dar. Don’t even go there. He’s an alien, she chided herself.

She turned to Maureen and Diego. “So, we’re just some alien’s snack, is that it? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Maureen looked at her apologetically. “You’re new. I wanted to ease you into it.”

“And this is just some normal thing for these Raxxians? How come no one noticed? Why didn’t the military do something?”

“They’re aliens, Darla. Human technology doesn’t hold a candle to what they’re capable of. From what I’ve gathered, they’ve been harvesting from Earth for longer than anyone could imagine. Using the planet as a sort of pit stop to fill up on supplies as they fly through the galaxy.”

Diego nodded in agreement. “Just think of how many people go missing every year. Who knows how many of those were snatched up?”

Darla’s mind was racing, but she was actually taking this information fairly well. Rather than freak out, she had slipped into problem-solving mode. It was why she was everyone’s go-to call when the shit hit the fan back home. She was the fixer. Only now she was the one needing help, but no one was coming to her rescue. Even if they knew she’d been taken, there was nothing they could do.

“I guess it makes sense in a way. Sort of like a Predator setting us up for a hunt.”

Diego laughed. “Oh, you’re funny. You also watch too much television. There’s no elaborate hunt. No games.”

“Wait a minute. Are you speaking English?”

“Nope. I’m from Argentina. I thought the big guy just went over this.”

“He did. I’m just processing, here. This thing behind our ears, it works for every language?”

“Seems that way,” Diego replied.

The alien nodded his agreement. “He is correct, though with your weak pigment there is the possibility it might not work for every race. He is also correct that you are not part of a larger game scenario. Do not flatter yourselves with such delusions. The Raxxians do not play with their food, and your kind are not worthy of combat.”

Darla cocked her head at the enormous alien and put her hands on her hips. “Okay. Fine. We’re weak and useless, thanks for that. But what about you? Why are you in here with us if we’re just livestock?”

He opened a small pouch on his waist and withdrew a box, opening it carefully. Inside was a set of fine needles with what looked like some sort of mechanical handles. Next to them, securely tucked into its own compartment, was a little container of dark pigment.

“I apply the runes,” he said. “It was a hobby on my own world, something I studied in my leisure time, but one I became rather proficient at. Here, the hobby makes me valuable, and I am better treated for possessing this skill. Not many know how to properly apply the markings.”

Darla pondered his words a moment. “Are there others like you here?”

“Like me? No. I am the only one with this skill. But captives? Yes, there are a great many captives aboard this ship. The Raxxians have a long history of warring across the systems and have taken many prisoners in their conflicts. Most serve as labor—”

“But you said there were no slaves.”

“No. I said your kind were not slaves. Others are of far more value to the Raxxians alive than in their bellies.”

“But where, then? I don’t see any other aliens in here.”

“Aliens. How quaint. You are the aliens here, little one. A human minority far from your world. Though your time is short, it would do you well to remember that. To answer your question, we are aboard a Raxxian long transport. It is a rather large vessel, comprised of many compartments like this one, the prisoners spread out among them, the sections interlocked for the journey. Eventually, they will head to one of the Raxxian controlled worlds to offload their cargo to sort for shipment to their final destinations.”

“They segregate the different parts of the ship? Why?”

He assessed her a long moment, his violet eyes quietly sizing her up. “Security,” he finally replied.

“Security? What, they’re afraid we’ll all fight with each other?”

“No,” he said with what she could have sworn was a little wink. “Against them.”

OceanofPDF.com

CHAPTER FIVE

After that little eye-opening conversation with the hunky but kind of dickishly aloof alien, Darla made a point to walk the compartment and check every last bunk space to see if there were any other unexpected companions lurking in their shadows. One alien surprise was enough for today.

It turned out there weren’t any more of them, but she did manage to annoy a handful of additional human captives who were lamenting their situation in as much privacy as they could find in the otherwise wide-open holding area.

Livestock, Darla couldn’t help but think as she introduced herself to everyone in turn. We’re just animals to them.

This in turn made her wonder about the Raxxians’ feed ball thingies. If they were all destined to be food, it only made sense that whatever they were being provided would be high in nutrition, designed to plump up the herd.

Herd.

The thought of the word made her shudder with disgust. These were people, and all but one her fellow humans. At final count there were thirteen women, herself included, and five men. And the alien, of course.

Under any other circumstances she would have questioned how such a diverse group of people had wound up together, but seeing as they were on a spaceship and all understanding one another despite being from all across the globe, she just took it in stride. In any case, this was a survival situation, and it was important to get to know her fellow prisoners.

“I’m Darla,” she said to a woman with warm ebony skin that looked flawless in the ship’s unusual light.

“Nyota,” she replied. “That’s Angela, Sabine, and Carolina,” she added, nodding to a redhead with an impressive case of resting bitch face, a brunette with long, curly hair that looked like it hadn’t seen a brush or conditioner in weeks, and a dirty blonde with a bright smile and cheeks and eyebrows that could only be called mountainous.

Darla couldn’t help but imagine that Carolina would be ridiculously photogenic with her features. Unfortunately, high cheekbones wouldn’t keep her off the Raxxians’ menu.

The gruff alien was back in his bunk, staring up at nothing so far as she could tell.

“What’s the deal with that one?” she asked.

“Oh, him? He’s not exactly what you’d call much of a talker. In fact, today’s probably the most I’ve heard him say at one time. You clearly got his attention.”

“Gee, lucky me.”

“You are lucky. You got more information out of him than any of us have managed. Usually he just tattoos that weird translation thing behind the newcomer’s ear while they’re still unconscious then climbs back into his bunk. Not much for socializing.”

“What do you expect? He’s an alien.”

“We’re all aliens here,” Nyota pointed out.”

Darla digested that little factoid in a flash. She was surrounded by almost entirely humans, but this was an alien ship. An alien ship flying off to who knows where in deep space. For all she knew, they were the only humans on the entire ship, and that made them a minority.

Shit, she’s right, Darla grudgingly admitted. And I have questions.

She walked closer to the alien’s bunk but stopped well short of it. He may have been relatively civil, but he was still a beast of a man, and one she didn’t want to wind up on the bad side of.

“Hey, big dude,” she called out.

A long silence hung between them.

“I have a name,” he finally replied.

“Well, that’s what I’m here for. I figure Nyota’s right. We’re all aliens here, and I can’t very well keep calling you the alien or hey you.”

He leaned out from the shadows of his bunk, his gold-rimmed violet eyes sparkling with amusement. “My name is High Aldwin Heydaricus Afflantia Matzur.”

“All that, huh? Quite a mouthful, there.”

“You may call me Heydar.”

“Darla.”

“Yes, I heard,” he said, then slid back onto his bunk.

“Okay. Good talk, there,” she said, walking away.

Mei seemed to snap out of her daze when she witnessed the exchange, hurrying over to Darla with a fierce look in her eyes. For a damn near vegetative prisoner, she was certainly anything but that at the moment.

“What are you doing?” Mei hissed. “Do not converse with them.”

“By them, you mean aliens?”

“They are beasts, all of them.”

“I don’t know, he seems more or less all right to me. And besides, he’s locked in here just like we are.”

“And do you know why?” the woman growled.

“Uh, no. Just got here, remember? Probably his tattoo skills.”

“So he claims, but I heard the guards talking. He is some sort of great warrior. Now he’s going to be a trophy for their leaders when we arrive at our destination.”

“A trophy?”

“Yes. Quite a catch for the Raxxians. And the way they talk about him, even they appear scared of him.”

Darla glanced over at the man on his bunk, the gold in his eyes, glinting for just a moment as the light caught them just right. She felt a little rumble in her belly, and not the kind brought on by hunger. At least, not hunger for food. Mei saw the look and shook her head.

“Do not think it,” she snapped. “He may be pleasing to look at, but that is an alien species.”

“Relax, a girl can admire, can’t she?”

Mei shook her head in either frustration or disgust. Either way, she was not amused. “You are not the first to have such ideas, you know. But he is not interested in our kind. Something about the Infala deciding his fate, not the meat between his legs.”

“He said that?”

“Yes. He was very rude about it as well.”

“Wait, what’s an Infala, anyway?”

“I’m not entirely sure. All I can tell is that it seems to have something to do with his tattoos. You saw that he’s covered in them, right?”

“I noticed.”

“They all have different meanings, from what I’ve gleaned. The symbols and pigments create some kind of energy, and apparently that all has something to dictate important aspects of his life.”

“Like what?”

“Like who he can mate with. And as none of us are inked up like that, humans aren’t even a possibility in his mind. It’s why he pretty much treats us like we’re barely even here. We’re lesser beings so far as he’s concerned. Or, at least unimportant in his grand scheme of things.”

“What a dickish way to live. Letting some silly ink dictate who you can and cannot be with? It’s ridiculous.”

“And how his kind operate. As you say in your country, it is what it is.”

“I hate that expression.”

“So do I, but in this instance, it does seem to be rather appropriate given the situation.”

Darla allowed herself one more glance at Heydar’s muscular form reclining in his bunk, then returned to her own resting place. She may have recovered from whatever the Raxxians did when they’d abducted her, but she was still a bit low on energy.

She had been staring at the smooth curved metal forming the top of her bunk space, her eyes slowly becoming heavy with both exhaustion as well as boredom, when the secondary door to their holding chamber opened. A pair of Raxxians strode in and surveyed the lot of them. Darla felt her adrenaline surge, taken aback by their frightening appearance. At least she’d had an initial exposure to take the edge off of their dramatic entry.

Then she thought about what happened to that man. He was taken away, and it was her fault. And worst of all, he could have been their afternoon snack for all she knew, and the Raxxians might still be hungry.

“All of you, stand here,” the larger of the pair demanded.

It was just a guess, but she was pretty sure their ranking system was based as much on physical prowess as much as age superiority.

The humans all moved into a line, the sharp tang of nervous sweat tinging the air. Heydar, however, remained in his bunk. The aliens glanced at him but made no move to roust him. He was nearly as large as they were, for one, and if what Mei had said was true, provoking him could provide their captors with more of a problem than they wanted to deal with at the moment.

The Raxxians turned to the line of obedient livestock and stepped closer, walking slowly past each of the much smaller humans. Periodically they would stop and perform a closer examination, turning a person’s head side to side or feeling their body, likely gauging the meat on their bones. Looking at their frightening teeth, it seemed possible they ate the bones as well.

Victor stood firm, his jaw flexing with obvious hatred. The muscles under his shirt were tense, ready for a fight, but the alien captors were entirely uninterested in any sort of conflict with this puny human. He stood tall all the same, but the Raxxians merely glanced at him, sizing him up in an instant, then moved on to the next captive.

Then, as quickly as they had entered the chamber, the Raxxians departed. The humans let out a collective sigh of relief. It looked like they would all live to see another day. Heydar looked out at them all with an almost bored gaze, then returned to pondering the walls of his bunk, or meditating, or whatever it was he was doing.

As for Darla, her adrenaline dropping back to normal levels, she thought doing the same sounded pretty darn good right about now. Within just a few minutes nestled in her bunk, she drifted off into a restless sleep.

OceanofPDF.com