Alien, Mine (15 page)

“Well, it’s nice to see you, too,” a familiar voice muttered.

Control snapped and Mhartak struck, gripped his long-lost, beloved brother by the throat and struggled not to throttle him.

Chapter 9

Check (Mate)

The drop to the water was greater than Sandrea expected.

Violent impact with the river drove her body beneath the surface. Rushing, raging water enclosed her, pummelling and blinding her, propelling her along in a chaotic tumble. Muffled, ferocious noise filled her ears. Up, down, and sideways became indistinguishable. Panic clamoured at her senses and she summoned every ounce of willpower to enforce calm. She conformed her body to accept the frenzied, unrelenting flow and concentrated on what her body told her.

Come on! Come on! Which way is up?

She swept her arms out and down. Her clothes dragged against her movements and her lungs burned acidic. One of her hands broke the surface and every survival instinct she possessed impelled her up. She gulped air, found her bearings, twisted, and looked back. Bluthen soldiers followed her into the rushing water.

Shit! Hope the bastards aren’t strong swimmers.

Frantically she scanned the banks as the river rushed her away. Her gut wrenched.

Eugen? Alpha?

Water slapped her face and buffeted her body. She submitted to the overpowering torrent, whirled, and swam with the force of the river.

Several litres of inadvertently gulped water and a stomach-turning while later, Sandrea dragged her aching body ashore at a peaceful, pebble-covered beach where the river widened and the land gentled. She stared hard at the near woods while her deprived lungs heaved in a desperate chase for breath. The now docile river gurgled over rocks. Insects clicked and hummed. She collapsed on a warm, sun-drenched boulder at the river’s edge and groaned.

I’m too old for this shit.

High above, yet well away from apogee, the sun shone golden in an ocean-blue sky. Its warm rays penetrated the cold of her wet, clinging clothes. She soaked up the heat from sun and rock and maintained vigilance on the river. No one appeared, not even a body. Perhaps the crushing force of falling water over that last natural weir had trapped anyone close behind beneath the surface.

Lucky for her, she came from a tropical area where yearly downpour was measured in meters and she knew how to get out of such a situation.

She heaved in one last, equalizing breath, hauled herself to her feet, and trudged into the cover of the trees. The temperature dropped with dramatic speed and she quickened her pace in an effort to keep warm and dry her clothes.

So now what? Beam me up, Scotty? If only. Eugen and Alpha are upstream, because I’m not even going to
think
that anything bad has happened to them, so that’s the way to go with note to self to avoid any and all contact with Bluthen.

Piece of cake.

Yeah right. Shame I’m allergic to grain.

She rolled her eyes at her brain’s debating party. Not only was she lost on an alien planet with hostile, not to mention downright nasty, beings hunting her, it appeared she’d turned into a split personality just to enhance the experience.

You go, girl.

She maintained a watchfulness through the eclectic collection of conifer-looking and broad-leafed trees. Thick, treacherous drifts of needles and leaves cushioned and muted her steps and tossed her on her rump more than once. She split her concentration between scrutinizing the woods and safely navigating the hazardous patches.

It also kept her mind off the unpleasant manner in which her wet socks squished inside her wet boots. But one thought nagged continuously at her, like a thorn at her heart. Where was Eugen?

Over the next few hours, Sandrea acknowledged that her particular style of courage did not lend itself to subterfuge. By the time the planet’s early afternoon rolled around, she had slunk and skulked her way by three Bluthen patrols, was a nervous wreck, and had come perilously close to attacking the last detachment out of sheer exasperated trepidation. Fear wobbled around her stomach and strained her nerves.

Hidden behind a thick screen of broad, green leaves, she couldn’t seem to convince her anxiety that climbing down out of the
elm
she’d taken refuge in was, in fact, a good idea. In the dim, shadowy seclusion of her haven, her hands almost moulded themselves into the broad branch she sat upon.

Cautious movement glimpsed through the cloaking net of foliage sparked a flare of hope. She fumbled in a vest pocket for the communicator.

Hope the damn thing still works after the dunking it took.

“Eugen?” she whispered.

The reply came, immediate and low-pitched. “Miss Fairbairn, where are you?”

Her stomach twisted a knot tighter at his formal address, a confirmation of his desire to establish some emotional distance between them.

“To your right as you are now, in the big yellow and green tree. Who’s that with you?”

“A fellow Angrigan. You are unharmed?”

“Yes. You?”

“We have suffered no injuries.”

Through periodic breaks in the foliage she tracked Eugen’s progress until he and the other man stood beneath the boughs of her shelter.

“You may descend now, Miss Fairbairn.”

The lack of any supportive comment or even flicker of recognition that he was in some way glad to have found her kicked Sandrea’s heart into her stomach. She clamped her teeth together.

Fine, I get the picture. We don’t know each other intimately. Hell, I’m beginning to think I don’t know you at all.

She scrambled down the trunk and turned to her rescuers.

“This is T’Hargen,” Eugen said.

The unknown Angrigan, even larger than Eugen, gazed down on her. Her hackles rose at the critical speculation hardening his gaze.

“This is what all the fuss is about?” he demanded.

“Yes.” Eugen’s clipped reply hurt.

Did he have to sound so angry about it?

He consulted an instrument strapped to his arm and addressed her forehead.

“This way if you will, Miss Fairbairn.”

His detached, professional attitude cut her to the bone. She strengthened her heart and straightened her spine.

“Is the squad alright?” she asked.

“Yes.”

A touch of relief slipped through her tense muscles and she followed Eugen further inland. The ground rose in steep, sharp folds, forcing her to accept the impersonal offer of his hand to be hauled up a treacherous incline slippery with loose rocks and forest debris.

T’Hargen shadowed their progress a good dozen or so paces to the left. Avoiding Eugen’s aid, she grasped a couple of trunks and heaved her body upward. His touch tore her apart for she craved to be held in his arms and comforted, shown a little care. Knowing he deplored the very idea pained and angered her. How could she have read him so wrong?

Could this day get worse?

Blue bolts of light slammed in rapid succession into the trees near T’Hargen. The
thwack-thwack
of splintering wood accompanied shards of bark flying in all directions. Her heart and stomach lurched in a horrid dance.

Eugen grabbed and bulldozed her up the incline until she found her balance and clambered upward under her own steam. The forest gloom highlighted all too well the barrage of fire that sprayed the forest, tracking T’Hargen as he darted through the trunks.

Soon her entire group of leg muscles protested vehemently as she demanded her body climb almost vertical at speed. Her lungs and oesophagus felt coated in acid. Each inhalation became a virtual reality of swallowing frozen razor blades. She half fell, half leapt over a fallen log and landed on all fours at the edge of a wide forest trail.

She snapped her gaze toward movement up the track. A group of armed Bluthen sprinted toward her. T’Hargen burst from the trees firing a hand-held weapon into the enemy troop. She launched to her feet, turned tail and fled downhill.

“Stay with me, Miss Fairbairn,” Eugen ordered as she tore away.

She risked a glance over her shoulder. Surprise at the distance she’d already put between them slowed her stride. Then her heart tripped and stuttered as a laser bolt punched into Eugen’s back.

Time seemed to stretch as his armour absorbed the hit. Details that danced on the fringe of her awareness forced themselves to the forefront.

Oh shit! Not good.
Not
good.

Time snapped back.

“Get in front of me!” she yelled after realizing Eugen hadn’t been badly hurt.

“Move!” Eugen commanded, pounding toward her.

For fuck’s sake,
don’t
argue!
“Just get in front, will you!”

“Why?” T’Hargen challenged as he bounded up.

“Because they’re shooting at
you
, not me!”

On the face of things, that may have appeared to be a good sign. She deeply suspected it was not.

T’Hargen sped past, his footsteps fast receding. Eugen grabbed her shoulder, spun her around, and pushed her in front of him. She stumbled a couple of steps, swung back, then wrapped her hands around his arm and tried to heave him in front of her. All she managed was to pull herself closer to his solid form.

“Don’t argue with me, Eugen!”

“I have no intention of arguing with you.”

He swept her against him and hitched her high on his chest.

“Dammit, Eugen! Put me down!”

“No.”

She braced a hand on the hard armour of his shoulder and steadied her upper body as she bounced to the rhythm of his long stride. Warm, pleasurable sensation spread in a cell-quivering wave from his solid nearness to clash with her anger and fear.

Hot relief cascaded across her nerves as the pursuing Bluthen refrained from shooting. Of course, her upper body now took exception to being the closest thing
to
the pursuing Bluthen.

Eugen’s stride landed hard, jolting her, and her hand slipped. She pitched sideways and her ribs struck unyielding armour. Her breath escaped on a hiss of pain.

“Dammit, General,” she gasped. “Put me . . . down!”

He made no move to comply. The trail meandered through the woods and the Bluthen disappeared from view.

“Eugen, please, the Bluthen are out of sight and this is ridiculous.”

His pace slowed and in a show of strength that took her already struggling breath, he twirled her in the circle of his arms and placed her on the ground.

“Do not stop,” he commanded.

A firm hand remained on her shoulder and steered her before him.

Fine, you want to play the hero, be my guest.

Absolutely refusing to acknowledge the glow of admiration for him that tried to worm its way to light, she set her balance in her hips, lengthened her stride, and chased down T’Hargen. He half disappeared through the trees, and she sprinted round a bend in the trail after him. A second later, he plunged off into the forest.

Where the fuck is he going?

“Follow him,” Eugen commanded.

She ground her teeth.
You issue me one more order,
General,
and I’ll shove it back down your throat.

She bounded after T’Hargen, dodged around trunks and leapt over fallen branches. Saplings grabbed and slapped at her clothes and face. A minute or so later she met up with the path again, sped across, and within two strides forsook it.

Then T’Hargen began to plunge from sight. She suspected Newton, or whoever was responsible for discovering that particular law in this part of the Galaxy, was to blame. No way was she taking a blind, flying leap down a gully without something to land on. She vaulted onto T’Hargen’s fast-disappearing back.

His creative cursing befouled the air, yet despite her clinging presence he managed to remain upright when they thudded to the ground. She didn’t hang around to listen to his complaints and legged it off down the slope.

“Return to the path,” came a bellow from behind.

Her mouth thinned in a mutinous line and she promised herself that when time permitted she would tell General Eugen Mhartak just what he could do with his damn orders. She dashed through knee-high grass, took a hard right, scrabbled onto the path, and sped off. The track levelled out and the trees stepped back to leave waist-high swathes of dark green bracken bordering the path.

“Halt!” T’Hargen demanded.

She rolled her eyes.
If it wasn’t one, it was the other.

She skidded to a standstill, dragging air into her lungs. Exertion bent her double and she rested her hands on her knees and tried to catch her breath. Strong hands seized her waist. The world tumbled upside down and rolled. Movement stilled and her senses caught up. She lay in a dark ditch overhung with dense ferns, her back pressed into T’Hargen’s body, one of his hands clamped her mouth, the other held her firm by the hip. She swivelled her eyes to find Eugen by her feet. Bluthen odour snaked into her nose. She checked an endeavour to bite T’Hargen’s smothering fingers.

Dread struck a heavy weight to her heart. Through the verdant fronds, she caught glimpses of boots as they patrolled by their hiding place, then halted. A prayer that the Bluthen did not carry instruments capable of detecting them flitted through her mind. Long, silent moments dragged like nails scraping over nerves. The boots moved away. She took a deep, quiet inhalation then speared an anxious glance at Eugen. His alert gaze locked on her. She shook her head. Eugen sent a swift signal at T’Hargen. They remained motionless.

Tension stretched every moment into a torment. She sniffed. Registered only T’Hargen’s scent and twisted her head to dislodge his stifling hand. She pulled in a deep breath through mouth and nostrils. Angrigan and pine-scented forest filled her senses. She gave Eugen a small, slow nod. Using the muzzle of his weapon, he swept aside the thick fronds of their concealment and took long minutes to scrutinize the area.

“All clear,” he murmured and scrambled out.