Alien Explosions (Zerconian Warriors Book 12) Read online

  Alien Explosions

  Zerconian Warriors

  Sadie Carter

  Copyright

  Sadie Carter

  Alien Explosions

  © 2018, Sadie Carter

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

  Cover Design: Sweet n Spicy Designs

  Editor: Christie Giraud: EbookEditingPro

  Books by Sadie Carter

  Zerconian Warriors Series

  Alien Warrior

  Alien Lover

  Alien Mate

  Sweet Alien Savage

  Alien Savior

  Alien Morsels

  Alien Mine

  All I Want for Christmas is my Alien

  Alien Sacrifice

  An Alien to Die For

  Alien Commander

  A Christmas Most Alien

  Alien Explosions

  Joyadan Mates

  Rye

  Shadowpeak Wolves

  Big Wicked Wolf

  Sinfully Savage Wolf

  Demon with Wolves

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  Chapter One

  “What do you think you are doing? You will get down from there! Now!”

  Oh shit. Busted.

  Saffron glanced down at a clearly furious Moroco. The glare he aimed her way was hot enough to melt the polar ice-caps.

  The ones that were still left, anyway. Climate change had taken care of most of them back on Earth and Zerconia was too hot for any ice or snow. Why was she thinking about this when she had an angry Zerconian scowling at her?

  Because she had an angry Zerconian scowling at her and as usual when he was around, her body wavered between wanting to kick him or kiss him.

  Both choices would be a bad idea.

  “You know you’re supposed to knock before you enter someone’s house, right?” she snapped, figuring her best defense was a good offense.

  “Why would I knock?”

  Patience, Saffron. Patience.

  “Because it’s polite? Because you can’t just barge on into another person’s place? What if I’d been dancing around naked?”

  His eyes widened.

  Okay, that probably wasn’t the best example to use.

  “Do you do that?”

  “What? Walk into people’s houses? No, I knock.”

  “Dance around naked.”

  Yeah, she knew that was what he’d meant, but she’d been hoping he’d get the hint and drop the subject. Grabbing hold of the top of the chair she’d been standing on, she climbed down. As soon as she was safely down, he moved back, as though afraid she’d brush against him.

  Anyone would think she had some horrible disease. It was kind of hard not to be insulted by how much he obviously didn’t want to touch her.

  “What are you doing here, Moroco?”

  “The skinny girl who talks too much was leaving as I walked up to the door. She allowed me entrance.”

  “The skinny girl’s name is Ashley. Ash-lee.”

  He waved that off impatiently as he placed his bag on the coffee table.

  “What were you doing on that chair?”

  Crap. What could she tell him? Not the truth.

  “Dusting the ceiling.”

  He gazed up, clearly in disbelief. Considering the ceilings were at least ten feet high, it was pretty safe to say she hadn’t really been about to clean them.

  Besides, who the hell cleaned ceilings?

  “You had no cleaning supplies.”

  “Just checking to see if I could reach. I can’t. I repeat, what are you doing here?”

  He frowned, his face darkening.

  “Jesus, who stole your sunshine this morning?”

  “Stole my sunshine?”

  “It’s a saying. It means you’re grumpy. You have a face like a thundercloud.”

  “And you think I have no good reason to be angry? You did not to come to your scheduled appointment this morning, meaning I have had to rearrange my day to visit you. Is such rudeness typical of all humans or just you?”

  She ground her teeth together.

  “And when I arrive here, you are standing on a chair. Something you have been forbidden to do.”

  “I wasn’t forbidden to stand on chairs,” she snapped, scowling at him. “And I don’t like the word forbidden.”

  He shook his head. “This is my fault.”

  “That I’m now angry at you? Yes, it is.” Arrogant, know-it-all, thinks-he’s-better-than-everyone-else doctor. Honestly. “Don’t they teach you bedside manners when you are training to be a doctor?”

  “Why would they do that?”

  “So that you could reassure your patients that everything will be okay?”

  “Warriors do not need reassurance.”

  “But you don’t just deal with warriors, right? Shouldn’t doctors have some level of patience?”

  “I am patient.”

  “Uh-huh,” she replied skeptically.

  “I have far more patience now than I did previously.”

  Jesus. That was a scary thought.

  “You were told not to do anything strenuous while recovering from being shot. I did not realize I had to supply a list of things that you could and could not do. Obviously, it was a mistake on my behalf to think that you would have the intelligence to know that climbing onto a chair, from which you could easily fall and hurt yourself, was a foolish idea!”

  “Are you calling me stupid?” She stepped closer to him, feeling ridiculously triumphant when he took another step back. She knew he wasn’t actually scared of her; he just had this dislike of touching her. Except to examine her. And then, he always put on gloves.

  It might be a little insulting if she cared what he thought of her. Which she most certainly did not. She was the first to admit she wasn’t a people person. She didn’t have much time for anyone other than her sister, Sophie.

  Moroco gave her a condescending look before reaching into his bag to grab a pair of gloves. They weren’t like the latex ones used back home. These sort of molded themselves onto his hands until you couldn’t even see them. And there wasn’t any of that gross smell or feeling that latex had.

  “Not stupid. Just lacking the same intellect that other races have.”

  Right, so stupid. “Races like yours, you mean?”

  “Exactly. Sit on the sofa. I will examine your wound.”

  “I don’t have a wound. It’s completely healed.” A few weeks ago, Sophie’s ex-boyfriend Maxwell had shot her before he’d attempted to force Sophie to leave with him. “Your medical machine fixed me all up. Which is why I didn’t need to come to my appointment this morning. I explained all this to your yes-man.”

  “Yes man?”

  “Aston. ‘Yes sir, no sir, how high would you like me to jump, sir’.” She tried to imitate Aston’s deep rumble.

  Did Moroco’s lips just twitch? Surely not.

  “That shit would annoy the hell out of me, but I guess you probably like him kissing your ass.”

  “I do not allow him to kiss my ass!” he boomed.

  A gasping noise made them both turn and Saffron winced as she saw Ashley standing there. Not skinny, redhead Ashley, but blonde, short Ashley.

  That’s
right, she lived with two Ashley’s. And they were each as ditzy and shallow as the other one. This is why you shouldn’t piss off the person who assigned housing.

  Blonde Ashley opened her mouth then closed it. She looked like a fish. Saffron barely managed not to tell her that. She had promised her sister to make some effort to get along with everyone. Sophie and Toriq had offered her a room at their place, but she’d refused. She was happy her sister was happy, but being constantly surrounded by all that mated bliss would make her break out in hives.

  But she figured that promise didn’t extend to Moroco. As far as she could tell, no one got along well with the prickly healer. He had the ability to push her buttons quicker than anyone else she’d ever met—and she’d met her fair share of irritating people.

  “Could you give us some privacy for a bit?” she asked blonde Ashley. “Moroco just came over to check my wound.”

  “Sure. Sure.” She kept her gaze on Moroco as she stepped slowly away. As though he was a predator she was worried would pounce.

  Finally, she disappeared and Saffron turned to Moroco.

  “That was weird.”

  He shrugged. “All of you humans seem odd to me. Now, sit. I shall check your wound.”

  With a sigh, she sat.

  “What is that?” Moroco asked, pointing at the tree branch beside her.

  She sighed. “It’s a Christmas tree.” Sort of. It was the worst Christmas tree she’d ever seen. “The Ashleys insisted on having one.”

  Personally, she didn’t think much of Christmas. They’d never had much growing up, so Christmas had really been just another day. And now, well, she didn’t see the point of celebrating. She’d hoped that being here on Zerconia meant she wouldn’t have to put up with all that Christmas bullshit.

  No such luck.

  The Empress had a thing for Christmas and had arranged a celebration dinner for everyone to attend. Saffron had gone for a few hours, not wanting to piss Zoey off, then snuck home. At least the madness was over for another year.

  “Christmas,” Moroco muttered as she pulled her loose shirt up to reveal the slight scar. “Yet another human custom I do not understand.”

  “Preaching to the converted there, buddy.”

  “What?”

  “Doesn’t matter.” She pointed at her shoulder. “See! All healed. It looks amazing considering it’s only been a few weeks. That regeneration machine is amazing.”

  Too bad it couldn’t fix her back. Although, it hadn’t been too bad lately.

  “It should not have scarred at all. If you had not lost so much blood or there had not been such a delay in getting you to treatment you would have completely healed. Luckily, our drugs are far superior to your human drugs.”

  “Of course, they are.” Everything about humans was inferior in Moroco’s view.

  Moroco frowned as he grew closer. “Then these visits would not be necessary.”

  “Aw, but then I’d miss out on these lovely chats with you, you big charmer.” She stared down at the wound. “Getting shot sucks.”

  “I have heard this word, ‘sucks’, it means bad?”

  “Yeah, basically. If something sucks it’s not good.”

  He gave her a look she couldn’t decipher. “Then the best idea would be not to get shot in the first place, would it not?”

  Damn it. She hated when he talked to her like she was three years old.

  “Well, of course it would be a good idea not to get shot in the first place. It’s not like I meant to get shot, you know.”

  He made a grumbling noise under his breath then stood and pulled off his gloves. “You have healed well.”

  “Then I guess growling at me about being up on that chair was unnecessary, huh?”

  He glared at her. “You could still fall and hurt yourself.”

  She sighed. “All right, what is it?”

  “What is what?”

  “What has got your knickers in a twist? You’ve been grumpy at me ever since I got shot, before that actually, so don’t try to say it’s just about me climbing a chair.”

  “I do not wear underwear.”

  “Huh?” What the heck?

  “I do not wear underwear; therefore, they are not in a twist.”

  “Right, of course you don’t.” Jesus, she didn’t need to know that. She wasn’t sure what it was about this guy. He was a prickly asshole, with little-to-no-manners and bossy as all hell and yet the thought that he didn’t wear underwear under those oh-so-tight leather pants was kind of…well…fascinating. Arousing.

  What was wrong with her? What did she care if he went commando, wore tighty-whities or pink and purple striped bungee-smugglers?

  “You are staring at me.”

  “What?”

  His gaze narrowed and she thought she saw a flash of amber. But that couldn’t be right. Zerconian eyes changed color with some strong emotions. Purple was happiness, red was anger, blue was sorrow, and amber was arousal. But the last thing Moroco felt towards her was arousal, right?

  “You were staring down at my shaft. Were you trying to imagine what it looks like?”

  She actually felt her jaw drop open and she stared at him in stupefaction.

  Get it together, Saffron. Think of something witty to say. Something to hide the fact that staring was pretty much what you were doing.

  “Was not.”

  Yep, that was brilliant. Her wit and intellect were definitely on display today.

  He raised one eyebrow. “It certainly looked that way to me. If you wish to see it, you only have to ask.”

  “Wh-wh-wh…” Okay, things were rapidly spiraling out of control. Had she entered some weird alternate reality?

  He tilted his head to one side. “Then again, perhaps I should make you beg?”

  Beg? Was he serious?

  “I am not begging!” Finally, she found her voice again. Funny, she’d never had that problem in the past. He’d done the impossible. He’d rendered her speechless.

  “No?”

  “No!”

  “What a shame. I should like to see you beg.”

  “I think you better leave.” She crossed her arms over her chest. So he could see she was serious. And to hide her hardening nipples.

  From the way he stared at her chest, she thought she might have been too late. He picked up his bag.

  “Yes, I believe it best that I leave now. I do not want you to think that I reward bad behavior.”

  Reward bad behavior?

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “You seem to have a propensity to go against orders given for your health and safety. These behaviors should be discouraged not rewarded.”

  Was this guy for real?

  He turned and walked out of the room.

  “Wait. Hey, you can’t just walk away after saying something truly idiotic like that! Are you seriously trying to tell me that you’re punishing me? For what?”

  Wait, that’s not what she’d meant to say. She should tell him that she wouldn’t be interested in him if he was the last guy left in the universe.

  Only, that wasn’t true, was it?

  “As if you have any right to punish me for anything! I’m not a child who needs someone to correct their behavior!”

  He turned and she caught a flash of something out of the corner of her eye. It looked like blonde hair. Great. Just what she needed, an audience listening in.

  “I am well aware that you are not a child.” He stepped towards her. She forced herself to stand her ground. She raised her chin and glared up at him, hoping he couldn’t tell that her heart was beating rapidly.

  He loomed over her, not touching her but intimidating the hell out of her nonetheless. Saffron was used to being shorter than everyone else. But Moroco wasn’t just tall, he was huge. His shoulders were wide, his biceps bulged against the tight top he wore. A lot of warriors wore vests that left little to the imagination, but Moroco always wore tops that covered his chest and yet at the same t
ime, made you itch to see what was underneath. The man was ripped. Huge. Gorgeous.

  And a total prick.

  “A child would have the good sense to listen to those who knew more than she did. A child would be more obedient. A child would learn from her mistakes.”

  He did not just say that.

  She opened her mouth and he leaned in closer. She hastily closed her mouth as his eyes flared red. Oh shit. He was really angry. And she was here alone with him. Well, one of the Ashley’s was here, but she hardly counted. Yet, she wasn’t as scared as she should be. She should be screaming for help or trying to run. Instead, she stood here, frozen, unable to believe the crap coming out of his mouth.

  Why the hell wasn’t she more frightened of him? He could hurt her without even breaking a sweat.

  “You continue to make foolish, stupid decisions that place your health and safety in danger.”

  “For God’s sake, I was standing on a chair, not trying to climb some mountain or jump out of a plane. Will you get over yourself!”

  “You left your house without an escort. Without my permission. As your minder, it was up to me to protect you and I failed because you could not follow a simple order for your safety. You were shot! You could have died!”

  Okay, so it seemed he was still a bit pissy about all of that. He’d been assigned as her temporary minder a few weeks ago after Maria had been murdered. And yeah, she’d completely disregarded the order given to all women not to walk around unescorted. But she hadn’t been about to call him to ask permission to see her own sister.

  “I am a grown woman. I don’t need a minder.”

  “Obviously, you do since you ended up shot!”

  All right, it was kind of hard to argue that, but still, she should give it a go.

  “On Earth”

  “I do not care what happens on Earth!” he roared.

  She rubbed at her ears. “Jesus, man, you need to learn to use your inside voice.”

  “Here on Zerconia, you follow our rules. You follow my rules.” While he hadn’t stepped back, he did lower his voice.

  “You aren’t my minder anymore. You aren’t in charge of me.”

  He snorted. “Thank the stars for that.”