Alien Retribution (Zerconian Warriors Book 13) Read online

  Zoey swallowed heavily.

  Rafal turned to him as the others left. “I said we would not harm her and I meant it. But you mean nothing and neither does the female behind you. One wrong move and your lives are forfeit.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Zoey half-ran behind the big male she’d kicked in the balls, who held her wrist in his large hand.

  Who were these guys?

  She looked back at Wyan, who seemed the nicest of the three. The one who held her was a grumpy jerk and that other one, he was just scary as hell. But Wyan seemed like he had been concerned for her safety

  “Where are we going? Why does this Tazan guy want to see me?”

  Nerves tightened her stomach to the point of feeling nauseous. The males were quiet as they practically raced through the corridors. She panted heavily. She really needed to work harder on her fitness. “Do you think you could slow down a little, I’m used to speed walking for exercise, but running has never been my thing. Especially without a sports bra on.”

  Jecan came to a stop and she nearly ploughed into him. “Oomph, warn a girl before you do that, will you?”

  “Sports bra?”

  “Yeah, you know, something to give extra support to the girls.”

  “Girls?”

  She sighed and shook her head. “Doesn’t matter.”

  “Jecan, what are you doing?”

  She turned to find Rafal staring at them both with irritation. “Tazan is waiting.”

  “Are you scared of him?” she asked.

  They all scowled, puffing out their chests. Sadness and longing filled her. If she had been unsure about their relation to Dex, she no longer was. They looked so like him, it hurt. Who were they, though? Dex had never spoken of any relatives.

  “We are afraid of no one,” Jecan told her arrogantly.

  “No? Seems a little foolish to be afraid of no one. I fear lots of things.”

  “You are female. It is expected for you to be afraid,” Wyan told her.

  She refrained from rolling her eyes. Maybe she needed to play nice a little.

  “Listen, I don’t know who you guys are,” or why they looked so much like Dex, “but you seem like nice guys.” How she managed to say that with a straight face she wasn’t sure. “If you help us escape, I will make certain that my mate rewards you nicely,” Zoey offered, feeling desperate. “Just get us all off this ship and I’ll contact my mate. He’ll come get us with your reward.”

  Rafal snorted. “More than likely he will murder us for our efforts.”

  Yeah, well, that was a possibility.

  “Not if you help me.”

  “Hurry up, Jecan. Before he comes looking for us.”

  With a sigh, Zoey started running again. “When my mate finds us, and he will, the three of you are really going to regret not taking my offer.”

  “We shall take that under advisement,” Rafal told her dryly.

  ***

  Nassir watched warily as Boris stormed across the room, jumping as he slammed his fist into the wall. He paced back and forth, blood dripping from his fist to the floor.

  Well.

  So, she could do what her mind screamed at her to do. Retreat. Pull into herself and ignore that show of temper. Protect herself. It was the sensible thing to do. Distance herself. After all, she could only rely on herself, right?

  Wrong.

  Because she was tired of being alone. Tired of being suspicious of everyone. Tired of being this guarded, lonely, scared person.

  So, she did the only thing she could think of. She leaned back against the wall behind her, crossed her arms over her chest and affected an unconcerned appearance even though her heart raced so hard she felt ill.

  “Well, that was helpful,” she drawled.

  He turned so quickly that she almost gasped, her body tensing automatically. But she wasn’t afraid of Boris, she reminded herself. It was everyone else who terrified her.

  Still, he could look a little less frightening and more reassuring.

  She waved her hand at his fist. “Smashing your fist into the wall is completely counterproductive. What happens if we need to fight our way out of here?”

  He gave her a derisive look. Yeah, she got it, he did not believe she could fight any better than a babe.

  She straightened. “I can fight if need be. And instead of slamming our fists into walls or arguing with each other we should be forming a plan.”

  He turned away from her and started to pace once more.

  “Look, I understand how you must blame me for all this. I know that I should have distanced myself from Zoey immediately. It’s why I left that very first night we met. You must have known I was trouble, because you let me leave without raising an alarm. I meant to sneak off again, but it was so nice to be around someone who cared.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “Who saw me, rather than the daughter who was expected to act a certain way, to behave, to obey, or a niece to sell like a pawn, or a homeless creature, disgusting and dirty. And now you and Zoey are in danger. You almost died and I will never forgive myself if something happens…” To her horror she started to sob. What was wrong with her? She never cried. She swiped her hands at her cheeks, wiping away tears. She avoided looking at Boris, knowing he must be disgusted by her show of emotion.

  “I am sorry. Excuse me. I will get myself under control.” She turned away, trying to calm herself, but the sobs seemed to come faster and harder, shaking her small body.

  One warm hand wrapped around her shoulders, turning her.

  “Do not look at me. I do not know what is wrong. I will stop eventually.” She hoped.

  Instead of berating or scolding her, Boris pulled her against his warm chest. She needed no more encouragement. Surprising herself, she wrapped her arms firmly around his waist and pressed her cheek against his scarred chest.

  He stiffened for a moment, but she wasn’t certain why. She tried to pull back slightly but he placed his hand on the side of her face and pressed her closer, making low soothing sounds in the back of his throat.

  Nassir buried closer and let the last of her shields drop.

  Boris did not have a lot of experience with soothing crying females. But what experience he did have had taught him that the best thing he could do was just hold them.

  He couldn’t exactly give her soothing words, and that was supposing he even knew any. Which he did not.

  Not for the first time, he rued having taken this vow of silence. It was meant as respect to his family and as a sign of his dedication to gaining revenge for their deaths. He drew his hand up and down Nassir’s back. Attempting to soothe her was a very different experience for him. Rather than feeling panicked and wishing someone would relieve him of his burden, he wished to pull her closer.

  He never wanted to let her go.

  His body stirred, as it always did when she was close, but he willed himself to calm. The last thing she needed right now was to feel the evidence of his need for her. She was distraught, and he had not helped matters with his display of temper. His hand still throbbed where he had pounded his fist into the wall in frustration. She was right, it was counter-productive. He needed to get them safely out of here. It was his responsibility to protect both females.

  He was really doing well at that.

  Right now, Zoey was in the hands of three large males he did not know or trust. He could only hope that she did not goad them into hurting her.

  He nearly groaned. This was Zoey. She was unable to keep quiet in the best of circumstances, but as scared as she was she would likely start a riot.

  And then there was Nassir. Quiet, controlled Nassir who stood sobbing in his arms as though her heart was breaking. While he’d been in the middle of a temper tantrum, she had been eating herself alive with regret and guilt.

  He would not have it.

  He cupped the nape of her neck and gently pulled her head back. Leaning in, he kissed her. He poured all of his feelings into that kiss. All the
things he couldn’t say.

  Now was not the time for him to find his mate. And yet, he had. Only his mate could tear him in two like this, could divide his loyalty. Only his mate could make him want to coddle and protect her at the same time he wanted to throw her to the floor and ravish her.

  Only his mate could make him forget the precariousness of their situation in favor of kissing and touching each inch of her.

  He drew back, noting the glazed look in her beautiful lavender eyes, the way she slumped against him as though she could not stand, the sharp breaths that pressed her breasts against his chest, the firm nipples rubbing against his bare chest through her thin dress.

  He wanted her. And he did not think he could wait much longer.

  She licked her lips as she watched him. “Sometimes I think you kiss me just to get me to be quiet.”

  He winked, loving the way she laughed.

  “Oh, Boris, what are we doing? This is really not good timing.”

  It wasn’t. It was crap timing, as Zoey would say. But he did not choose the time the Gods showed him his mate. He ran his thumb gently over her cheek, wiping away her tears. He still felt guilty over his happiness, but not enough to turn her away.

  The timing was terrible, yes. But she would be his.

  She rubbed her hands across her eyes, looking so adorable.

  “Please forgive me. That was completely out of character for me. I never cry.”

  Then perhaps she should do it more often. He did not like how she kept her gaze averted from his, as though she were ashamed. He placed a finger under her chin, tilting her face up. He lightly tapped her nose in admonishment when she attempted to look away from him. She stared up at him, startled and he cupped one side of her face, feeling frustrated that he couldn’t tell her how he truly felt.

  He shook his head at her.

  She frowned slightly. “I don’t understand. You don’t think I should say sorry for crying all over you? If you were wearing a shirt, you would be soaked.” She stared down at his chest and he thought she was studying his scars. He stiffened, prepared for disgust. She had shown no reaction to them so far, but that did not mean she wished to have a scarred, crippled male as a mate.

  She ran her hands over his shoulders with a sigh. “I wish I could talk to you. Properly talk to you. I just don’t understand any of this. I-I-” She bit her lip and he pulled the poor lip free, rubbing his thumb over it for a few seconds. Her eyes widened and he could sense her arousal, it called at him, demanded he touch her, awaken the fire within her then set it free.

  As she had said, now was not the time. He shouldn’t even be touching her like this. He had other things to do.

  But it seemed he was powerless to resist her. Especially when she let down her guard and let him in. He raised one eyebrow, encouraging her to talk.

  It was amazing how much you could learn when you didn’t say a word.

  “I just don’t know what this is.” She waved a hand between them then blushed. “I mean, I guess it’s just been a few kisses and maybe you kiss a lot of females. I bet you have them lined up, vying for your attention.”

  He raised both eyebrows, now in disbelief.

  Was she really speaking of him?

  She ran her finger over one scar and although his first instinct was to pull back, to shove her hand to one side, he forced himself to stand still. He took in a sharp breath as she leaned forward and licked across the worst scar.

  He hissed.

  She raised her head sharply. “Did I hurt you?”

  He shook his head slowly. No. Not at all. Well, his balls were not feeling too good right now. He needed release. Desperately. But Nassir deserved more than a quick fuck on a hard floor. She deserved any ounce of romance he could find in his cold body.

  Which wouldn’t be much, unfortunately.

  “I just really enjoy touching you. It’s strange. I cannot remember ever wanting to touch someone as much as I want to touch you. Or ever enjoying someone touching me back. My parents did not like to give physical affection. They believed it was not becoming on their station or something like that. I feel…well…almost more alive when you touch me.”

  She was starved for touch. He cursed her parents for their stupid beliefs. A child needed affection. He could still remember how much his parents touched him and his siblings. And each other. Hugs were given freely, so was praise. He could only imagine Nassir as a child. Those big lavender eyes, so serious, she wouldn’t have been a mischievous child. She had probably been older far beyond her years.

  If they had children he would make certain they were given all the affection they needed. Children. He swallowed heavily. Children were not something he could think about right now.

  “Boris? You’ve gone all tense. Are you worried about Zoey?”

  He closed his eyes briefly. No. But he should have been.

  “I know those guys were scary and a bit strange, but they really didn’t seem like a threat to Zoey. Did you notice how much they looked like Dex?”

  It was hard to miss.

  “It is funny, I have dreamed of you—” She broke off, looking shocked at herself.

  Hmm, had she been dreaming of him? How interesting.

  A noise at the door interrupted his thoughts and he shoved her behind him as Zoey walked in, her hands over her eyes. That tightness in his stomach eased as he saw that she was unharmed.

  The door slid shut behind her, the red light flashing on the panel by the door indicating it had been locked.

  “Is it safe to look or shall I keep my eyes closed for a bit longer?”

  Nassir moved to his side and glanced up at him in confusion. He shrugged.

  “You’re not naked or anything, right?”

  “No,” Nassir said, sounding shocked. “Of course, we are not.”

  Zoey dropped one hand down, blinking at them. “There is no ‘of course’ about it or did you forget about earlier when the two of you started to get hot and heavy in—”

  “Zoey what happened?” Nassir interrupted her.

  Good move. He gave her a small nod of approval. She winked up at him, leaning against him for a few short seconds. His body warmed at her closeness.

  “Oh, nothing much really. Huey, Duey, and Louie took me to ole Scrooge McDuck, who was pretty much crowing over all the credits he thinks he’s going to make from ransoming me. I hope he chokes on it. Now, he is a real piece of work.”

  “Scrooge McDuck?” Nassir asked.

  “No, that Tazan. Scrooge McDuck was just a, well, Scrooge.”

  “Oh.” Nassir looked up at him. He grinned, enjoying her confusion. He had seen that strange cartoon about talking ducks that Zoey seemed to enjoy so much. For some reason, she believed it was vital that Elodie watch it.

  “He recorded a vid where he made me make this speech about how I’ve been unharmed blah, blah, and he’s sending it to Dex. Dex is going to lose it. But I guess he’ll know we’re safe. I wasn’t going to do it, but one of those oversized idiots actually pinched my ass! Can you believe it? Anyway, when I turned to tell him off, I suddenly thought that maybe Dex would be able to trace where the vid came from or I could give him some clues.” Zoey grinned looking pleased with herself.

  Boris’s stomach tightened. What had she done? “At the end I told him to quickly pay the ransom as I was beginning to smell worse than I had on our trip to Ulrika and then I told him that I loved my king of the jungle.”

  “I do not understand?” Nassir looked confused.

  “Well, Ulrika is where we first met you, during which time Tazan’s Ulgy beast burped on me and I stank like you would not believe. And on Earth Tarzan is the King of the Jungle. Tarzan, Tazan. See? Although not sure he’ll get that reference. Dex doesn’t pay much attention to Earth stuff.”

  “Still, it was a good try,” Nassir said gently.

  Zoey perked up a little. “Guess it was.” She sat on the floor, leaning her head back against the wall behind her. “So, was it just me or did the t
hree stooges look exactly like my mate?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Nassir was absolutely terrified.

  She hid it well—or at least she hoped she did. Showing her uncle that she was afraid of him would only give him pleasure. And the last thing she wanted was to please that bastard.

  Bastard. Yes, she liked that word. During the boring and uneventful trip to her home planet, Zoey had taken great delight in teaching her some swear words commonly used on Earth. Boris had just shaken his head and ignored them as they had giggled over some particularly inventive ones.

  Despite the fact that she adored Zoey, she wished she’d had some time alone with Boris. Being in a room with him without being able to touch him at will had been extremely difficult, especially with the way she had dreamed of him each time she fell asleep. But they had both made an effort to keep some distance between them for Zoey’s sake.

  As they walked down the long room, she glanced around. Three of the walls were covered in weapons. Her father liked to collect old weapons. They hadn’t been used since he’d had them mounted. Although each year he had them taken down so they could be cleaned and sharpened where necessary.

  How she would love to pull one of those sharp swords down and run it through her uncle’s fat belly. Her Uncle Faru sat where she had expected he would be. At the long dining table situated in the middle of the room, stuffing his face with rich food.

  The wall at the far end was the only one clear of weapons. Instead it held large paintings, some of them twice as tall as she was. Her mother had loved to paint and her father had them mounted on that wall in pride of place.

  A contingent of Faru’s guards had met them when their ship landed and escorted them here to the palace. Tazan kept a tight hold of her arm, as though she were a threat. The real threat stood behind her, but Rafal and Jecan had Boris between them while Wyan stuck close to Zoey.

  Her uncle looked even rounder than the last time she had seen him, the skin around his eyes puffy, his triple chins wobbling as he opened his mouth, sweat glistening on his forehead.