Saved by Venom: 3 (Grabbed) (2 page)

“Come on, Dizzy. Let me send you away in style. We’ll consider it your bachelorette party.”

“Well how can I pass up an offer like that?” Dizzy pushed down the sadness threatening to overwhelm her. She didn’t want to spend her last night on Calyx in tears and questioning her father’s betrayal. She wanted to spend it laughing and having a good time with her best friend in the whole world.

“Great!” Ella jiggled the dress in her hand. “But I’m changing into this first!”

Dizzy rolled her eyes and pointed to the closet. “Don’t forget the shoes.”

“Score!” Ella disappeared into the small space. A moment later the dress she’d been wearing sailed through the air and landed on the bed. Snorting at her friend’s utter carelessness, Dizzy picked it up and draped it neatly over the chair at her desk.

When Ella stepped out a few moments later, she looked effortlessly sexy. With that bee-stung pout and bewitching hazel eyes, she was a natural in her career as a muse. It was no wonder that companies lined up to have Ella showcase their products.

Once Dizzy had been in the same line of work. That was how they’d met as teenagers. Ella had been one of the muses Dizzy’s mother had recruited to work for the agency she owned.

But the explosion that had killed her mother and brought the Harcos civil war to Calyx had taken away any possibility of Dizzy succeeding in that career. The scars on her neck weren’t awful but they were noticeable—too noticeable.

Once recovered, she had moved behind the camera. There she had discovered her real passion. Designing clothing had provided her a steady income and a sense of fulfillment and accomplishment. She couldn’t imagine how her life might have turned out if she hadn’t had her scissors and sewing needles to fall back on after the bombing ruined her chances of being a muse and stripped her family of its wealth and influence. She was damn lucky not to be living on the streets.

“Are you ready?”

Dizzy considered Ella’s question. In three words, Ella had captured her warring mindset perfectly. Was she ready?

* * * * *

“You ready for tomorrow?”

Jerking forward from the impact of Raze’s unexpected whack between his shoulder blades, Venom choked on his mouthful of pretzels. Raze laughed as Venom took a long drink of his cold beer to clear his throat. Coughing, he scowled at his best friend and watched him drop into the empty chair across the small table. “A little warning next time?”

Raze held up both hands. “Sorry.”

Placing his beer on the table, he loudly cleared his throat and considered his friend’s query. “Sure. I’m ready.”

Rather imperiously, Raze arched a dark eyebrow. “You sound rather relaxed for a man about to change his entire life with one silly race.”

He frowned at Raze. “It’s not a silly race. The Grab is one of our honored traditions.”

“That often ends in heartache,” Raze grumbled. “How many damn SRU calls have we been on in the last year with brides who want to leave their sky warrior husbands or for men fighting over a woman who got snatched away from her husband during the trial period?” He shook his head. “They’ve got to come up with a better way of screening these women than a damn lottery.”

Venom didn’t disagree with that. “The system isn’t perfect but it’s all we’ve got out here. If you want a wife and a family, it’s the Grab or one of the matchmaking services from back home.”

Raze’s jaw twitched at the mere mention of matchmaking. Venom was probably the only man on the warship
Valiant
brave enough to say the word around him.

Years earlier, Raze’s parents had used a well-respected matchmaking service to find him a pureblooded Harcos wife from Prime, their home planet. Unfortunately Raze and his bride had been miserable together. As a last-ditch effort to save their union, Raze had taken her on a vacation to one of the colonies but she had met and run off with an Earth-descendant scientist. Raze hadn’t fought her on the divorce so they had parted amicably enough. Still, the many years since that rather humiliating experience hadn’t dulled Raze’s embarrassment.

With a loud grunt, Raze finally remarked, “You’re probably better off jumping into a Grab, I guess.”

“I hear the Grab next quarter still has some slots open.” He eyed his friend carefully over his beer. “I know you’ve earned enough points to replace the ones you lost after your divorce. Your rank is high enough to push you to the top of the list.”

Raze scrunched up his face and rubbed the back of his neck. “Do I look stupid to you? I need a damn wife like I need a hole in the head.” He slashed his hand through the air. “I tried mating once. It clearly wasn’t for me.”

Venom experienced a pang of sadness for his friend. “That’s not true. You and Shelly weren’t mean for each other. It was a matchmaking mistake. You’d be a good mate.”

Raze snorted. “Is that a proposal, Ven? Hell, why don’t we ask Menace and Naya if we can throw in with their wedding and do a double ceremony?”

Glaring at his friend, Venom pelted him with pretzels. “That’s the last time I try to be nice to you.”

Raze snatched the broken snacks from his shirt and flung them at Venom’s head.

“Boys!” The grizzly old bartender Brand shouted over the noisy din in the officer’s bar. “This isn’t a damn barn. Clean that shit up.”

“Yes sir,” they answered and quickly swept up the mess with their hands. Even though they both outranked the old man, they respected him for the decades of service he’d given to the land corps. There weren’t many enlisted men who stayed in for life—or survived long enough to make that choice.

Still laughing, Venom settled up his tab and left the bar with Raze. While they waited for an elevator, Raze pointed to the news screen mounted on the wall there. “That is going to keep us busy.”

Venom glanced at the scrolling images and the news ticker running along the bottom. His chest tightened at the announcement that the plans to build a base on Calyx were moving forward. It had been a rumor for the better part of five years but no one was sure it would ever happen.

Harcos’ presence in the orbital space around the planet had grown over the last few years. It made sense to put in a ground installation—but the extremely pacifist and closed-off society down there on Calyx wasn’t going to like it.

“Shit,” he said softly. “We’ll have to start training for policing protests and putting down riots.”

Raze agreed with a grunt. “Maybe now Vicious will find me the funds I need to open a fourth SRU team for the
Valiant
and a third for the
Arctis
. We’re going to need the manpower.”

The elevator arrived and they stepped inside. Raze tapped the button for the floor housing his small apartment in the bachelor section of the officer housing wing. Venom, however, tapped the key for his new quarters on a floor for mated officers.

“How are the new quarters?”

He detected the tiniest hint of envy in his friend’s voice. “Spacious. Quiet. The neighborhood’s nice,” he added. “Menace is right across the hall.”

“You lucky bastard! The new guy who took your old place is in the sky corps. I swear he looks to be about ten years old and he is noisy as hell.” They both laughed at his description. “I suppose I’ll get used to him eventually. I got used to having you and Cipher on either side of me.”

Venom snorted. “I don’t know how you deal with Cipher’s damn video games all hours of the night. When we shared quarters onboard the
Retribution
, I nearly strangled him over it.”

“I thought about buying him headphones but I worry about damaging his hearing. He keeps that volume turned up so damn high.” Raze smiled wryly. “I’d send him down to the surface to Grab a wife to keep him busy at night but I doubt she’d be much quieter.”

Venom tipped his head back and laughed. “Probably not, boss.”

The elevator arrived at Raze’s floor. He stepped out into the hallway but turned at the last minute. Holding his hand against the door, he held Venom’s gaze. “Look, I know I’ve been giving you so much shit about going down to Grab a bride but I really do hope you find the right woman tomorrow, Venom. I hope you find someone who will make you as happy as Hallie and Naya have made Vicious and Menace.”

Venom blinked with surprise. “Thanks, Raze.”

Raze whacked his arm twice. “Good luck.” He backed away and winked. “Enjoy your honeymoon. Call me if you need pointers.”

Venom fought the urge to shoot him the finger. The low hum of the elevator ascending higher and higher in the housing section of the
Valiant
accompanied his busy thoughts. By this time tomorrow, he would have a wife.

The very idea of it sent red-hot frissons of excitement streaking through his chest and gut. A wife. A mate.
His
.

Like most Harcos soldiers, he had never had anything that truly belonged to him. He had been taken away from his family at only five, stripped of everything he owned—even his name—and thrown into the most exclusive military academy to begin his many years of training. Amid the harsh, rigid hell of the academy, he had made many friends, some of them very close, but it wasn’t the same as having a real family.

Even though he considered the men he fought beside his blood brothers, their bonds would never come close to the one he would share with the woman he would Grab tomorrow. The bond he would create with his new wife would be one born of love and tenderness, not the fear and loneliness of his childhood.

The promise of earning the right to a mate and family had been the only thing that had kept him going in the darkest days of the Sendarian siege. When the battle had been at its bloodiest and all had seemed lost, he had filled those hours of misery with daydreams of
her
. She was the nameless, faceless creature he’d conjured to comfort him in those awful times.

With her he would build a family. With her he would share his most secret desires for the future, for a life without war and violence. With her he could shed the hardness forced upon him by his position and rank and indulge his softer side. With her he would finally know love.

Venom reached his new quarters and locked the door behind him. Before heading to bed he made one last round of the generous space he had been allotted. He’d spent the afternoon getting everything ready for his new bride.

Naya and Hallie had been kind enough to guide him through the housewares and clothing departments in the retail section of the ship. Both had convinced him to purchase only the bare minimum to make his home inviting and comfortable so that he and his new mate could decorate and outfit their new space together when the time was right. He was glad to have their counsel because he wanted everything to be perfect.

After all the cautionary tales he had heard from newly matched friends, Venom desperately wanted things to go smoothly. As he undressed, his gaze flicked to the locked door of his playroom. In their culture, rough loving was the norm. Harcos women had different body chemistries than their Earth-descendant counterparts and required pain to find pleasure.

Locker-room talk had assured him that these women from Calyx could climax without applying any heat, so to speak, but it appeared that for many of them a rough touch or a little domestic discipline awakened a sensual side that their strict society had repressed.

His heartbeat sped up as vivid images of his woman, bound in his ropes and knots, flashed before his eyes. Would she beg him to take her, to make her come until she passed out from the sheer pleasure of it all? Would she enjoy the silken embrace of a rope harness on her soft skin?

The very idea of it made him hard as a rock. Groin tight and belly rolling with needy heat, he fell back on the wide, long bed and closed his eyes. Soon he would have his answers.

The next morning when he stepped off the transport ship and onto the snowy ground, Venom shuddered as a blast of frigid air smacked him in the face. The constant mild climate aboard the
Valiant
had spoiled him. The cold burn of the wind against his skin felt incredibly
real
. He savored the discomfort for a few seconds before flipping up the collar on his jacket and fishing a black knitted cap from his pocket. It was the first time since he’d been issued winter wear that he’d had a need to haul it out of his closet.

Though military regulations allowed the men of his rank to wear their hair longer, he still preferred to keep his head shaved clean. It wasn’t much of an issue living on a warship but down here, with this wintry chill, it left him vulnerable to hypothermia.

With the knitted cap firmly in place he joined the throng of uniformed men moving toward the staging area. There were only seventeen of them running today. He and a sky corps pilot had the highest ranks and had been commissioned a day apart, the pilot before him. If they chose the same woman it could get tense.

He had overhead the man talking about wanting a dark-haired woman with full curves. Venom hoped he’d find a woman the complete opposite of the pilot’s ideal bride to avoid any sticky situations out on the field. The idea of knocking out the lights of a slightly superior officer didn’t sit well with him—but he’d do it if it came down to losing the woman he chose.

As they neared the staging area, Venom noticed an agitated crowd surrounding the fence protecting the spot where a hastily erected stage now stood. Instantly he went on alert. His trained gaze scanned the crowd. They were mostly men in their late teens to early forties. Some of them were probably family members but it was likely there were troublemakers among them.

The Splinters operating on Calyx often chose situations like this to agitate the locals. The terrorist cell had so far evaded the Shadow Force operatives tasked with shutting them down but a few important captures had been made in the last few months. Two months earlier, Venom had been on a rescue mission for Menace’s wife that had gone to hell in a matter of seconds. They had managed to save her life but only barely.

She had averted a major crisis by recovering weapons stolen by the Splinters and sold to the Sixers, a gang operating out of The City. She’d also uncovered a nasty little bit of government corruption by finding piles of food supplies in the Sixer hideout. The two groups had been manipulating food supplies and costs in the capitol city and some of the outlying villages to foment revolution. Thankfully it hadn’t worked.

But this?
Venom eyed the noisy crowd with apprehension.
This could get ugly fast.

“Ace?” He called out to the pilot leading their men to the starting line of the Grab. Using hand signals, he gave a quick order that the pilot received with a nod. Some of the soldiers in their group glanced back at him for instructions. “Let’s keep it tight and keep our hands to ourselves.”

A round of
yes sir
s circled the small group. They formed double lines and kept close together as they neared the shouting throng. Venom had no doubt his fellow soldiers would maintain their formation. The discipline drilled into them from childhood would allow nothing else.

Venom’s ears rang with the nasty insults hurled their way. His jaw tightened but that was the only outward sign of annoyance he allowed. A fat, rotten fruit splattered on the back of a man in the middle of their group. The soldier tensed but didn’t break formation. The man behind him brushed away the foul, soggy flesh. Their heads high and their gazes fixed forward, they kept walking.

As if sensing their group wouldn’t be fazed by insults and rotten produce, the angry crowd changed their tactics. They chanted their filth even louder and moved in closer. Venom’s hawkish gaze took in the changing environment.

“Easy, men,” he said, his voice calm but clear. “Stay on track. Keep moving.”

A split second later, someone jumped out of the crowd and slammed into his shoulder. Venom had just enough warning to brace himself for the impact as the heavy weight of his attacker took him to the ground. On instinct, Venom threw up his hand and blocked the falling blows. He put a hand to the man’s throat and shoved hard.

Their gazes met and Venom’s heart stuttered. Despite the grizzly beard and wild hair, he recognized his assailant. It was Devious, a member of his academy class he hadn’t seen in more than ten years. The man had been one of the operatives chosen for the Shadow Force but he had been arrested and tried as a traitor. The transport ship carrying him to the Kovark prison system had been attacked and he had been freed and never seen again.

Until now.

Venom had never believed Devious would side with the Splinters but the evidence against him in his trial had been incredibly convincing. What if it had all been a show? Had it merely been the beginning of a deep cover?

Those questions wouldn’t be answered today—or maybe ever. Schooling his features, Venom showed only fury. He punched Devious in the temple and cheek before flipping their positions. They grappled and slapped at each other. Briefly Venom felt Devious’ fingers slipping under the cuff of his jacket and brushing the bare skin of his wrist. A moment later, the sensation vanished.

“Dev! Come on, man! Enough!” One of the protestors stepped forward to drag him out from under Venom.

At the same time, one of the soldiers taking part in the Grab snatched Venom by the shoulders and hauled him onto his feet. “Captain!”

“I’m good!” Venom shrugged off the soldier’s hands. He kicked snow at Devious and spit on the ground near him. “This traitorous piece of trash isn’t worth the disciplinary demerit.”

A faint, mischievous smile curved the likely undercover agent’s mouth as he wiped dirty snow from his face. “I’d rather be trash than a kidnapping, raping piece of shit like you.”

Even though Devious said those things to stay in character Venom still flinched. Was that what people down here thought of them?

“Come on, Captain.” The younger man tugged on Venom’s arm. “They’re waiting for us.”

Venom cast one final glance at Devious before turning his back. Carefully and without rousing suspicion, he slid his fingers inside the cuff of his jacket and found the thin square now firmly fixed to the fabric liner. He assumed it was a data device of some kind and cautiously pulled it free to move it to a more secure location in one of the inner pockets of his jacket.

The intel secured, he rejoined the group and marched to the flimsy fence and the too-short gate. The security appalled him. When he reached the
Valiant
, he would let Vicious know how shockingly underprepared The City officials were for a full-scale riot. At the next Grab someone was going to get hurt.

As they filed onto the stage, Venom’s issues with the security were overshadowed by his absolute rage at seeing the way the women chosen for this Grab had been prepared for the run. They huddled together in a small space in a muddy pit a few feet below the stage. Infuriated, he took in their shaking bodies clothed in thin cotton shirts and pants. Only a few of them had on proper shoes. They all looked miserable and frightened.

His heart ached at the pitiful sight before him. Was this how all Grabs were done? He felt sure that wasn’t the case. Vicious or Menace would have told him if their women had been penned in like livestock awaiting slaughter.

This wasn’t right. On other planets, the populaces viewed the Grabs as a way for women to find a good, honorable husband and a comfortable living—but here? Now the screaming protestors outside the fence made sense.

He searched the shivering group of women for one who appealed to him. Choosing a wife on sight wasn’t the most auspicious beginning for a mate bond but it was the only choice he had. He had come this far. He wasn’t going back empty-handed.

The tightly packed group shifted as some of the women turned toward the stage for a better look at the men who would be chasing them very soon. A flash of white-blonde hair caught his eye. He was momentarily taken aback by the pale shade. It wasn’t very common among the Earth-descendants on Calyx but it was the mark of a full-blooded member of the Harcos race like himself.

He zeroed in on the pale hair. The woman it belonged to found her way to the rear of the crowd. She was a tiny little thing, petite like Vee’s Hallie but not as thin. The boxy cut of her bright-red outfit obscured her frame but he could see the faint outline of curves beneath the papery fabric. She wasn’t quite as curvaceous as Menace’s woman but she had a nice shape.

Their gazes clashed across the wide expanse between them. Her eyes widened with shock and she took three quick steps back. Something primal ignited within him at the sight of her fleeing. Like a prowling cat catching the scent of its prey, he had to chase her now.

Her panicked gaze darted from the stage where a member of The City’s council read the official Grab rules and the gate that led to the snowy open field and the forest just beyond it. Fists curled at her sides, she sized him up before taking two quick hops toward the gate.

No doubt she had done the math. There was no way she could evade him. His legs were nearly twice as long as hers and he had on rugged boots. She had on shiny pink shoes that were wholly unsuitable for doing anything outdoors. They looked like the kind of thing a woman would wear with a dress.

He frowned at her lack of preparation and hoped this wasn’t a sign of flightiness. Judging by the state of the other women, it seemed more likely that the officials running the Grab hadn’t properly advised them what to expect. It was yet another issue he would be reporting to the Grab committee aboard the
Valiant
.

The snap of two blocks of wood slamming together startled him. A man opened the gate and the women rushed out of the pen. The clock started on their short head start. Venom didn’t linger on the stage. He hopped down into the muck and trudged to the gate. A handful of the other soldiers and airmen followed him.

With his gaze fixed on the pale-haired woman, he watched her fight through the ankle-deep snow. His gut soured with worry. He glanced at his watch and read the temperature and windchill before hastily calculating the amount of time she had before suffering from frostbite. He made a quick estimation as to how long the women had been exposed to the elements. The numbers he arrived at didn’t make him happy.

Around him the other men seemed to be doing the same mental calculations. There were grunts of annoyance as the seconds ticked down to their release from the pen. Antsy and on edge, they fidgeted and flexed to release some of the anxiety.

The moment the blocks clapped together again, Venom shoved off the slick, muddy ground and raced onto the field. He tracked the woman he wanted as he sprinted to intercept her. She was in the middle of the pack but seemed terrible at navigating. From what he could tell, she was angling for a section of the woods clear off the course. His lips twitched with amusement. He’d have to make sure to program her personal tablet with a map app for navigating the ship.

Venom noticed another man closing in on him. He shot the guy a hard look to warn him off the prize he had selected. The airman put up both hands to show he wanted no problems and pointed to a brunette nearing the tree line. “I’m after that one, sir.”

“The blonde’s mine.” He kicked his pace into high gear and started to gain on the woman he wanted. She had disappeared into the dense woods. Panic gripped his gut. Would she evade him now?

Considering the way she had been unable to even run in a straight line from the starting point to the forest, he doubted it. When he hit the tree line, he slowed his speed just enough to get his bearings. He scanned the snowy forest floor and found her tiny footprints. With a path to follow, he hurried after her.

Another minute into the pursuit, Venom spotted the bright-pink shoes discarded near a tree. His heart leapt into his throat. Didn’t she realize how dangerous it was to run barefoot in the damned snow?

“Shit.” Growling, he surged forward in search of her. He had to find her quickly and before she got frostbite.

So focused on finding her, Venom missed the telltale sign of a hunter’s mark on the trees surrounding him. His boot hit the spongy trigger of a trap a millisecond before his brain alerted him to the mistake he’d made. With a chilling snap, two metal halves of the trap slammed shut on his leg.

“Fuck!” His pained shout ricocheted off the trees. Caught, he fell forward onto his knees and hands. His jaws ground at the excruciating bite compressing his leg. The reinforced webbing and nanofibers of his boots kept the gnarly metal snare from piercing his skin and crippling him but the terrible squeezing grip knocked the air right out of his lungs.

A wave of panic seized him. Despondence quickly overwhelmed him. He had two choices now. He could try to jerk the chain free and bust the trap or he could use the signal flare tucked into the pocket of his pants to call for help. Once the flare was lit he was officially disqualified from the Grab. Even if he had his collar around her neck, they would set her free and send him home empty-handed.

Either way, he had lost his reward. He had lost
her
.

* * * * *

Dizzy gasped at the terrible, pained shout that echoed in the forest. Birds scattered as the guttural groan tore the stillness. She slid to a stop in the freezing-cold snow and tried to slow her ragged breaths. Was that a man?

Was it
the
man?

She gulped hard and licked her lips. Glancing back in the direction of the awful sound, she tried to decide what to do. A sky warrior like the rugged, intimidating one who had been eying her would only make a sound like that if he was in big trouble.

The race officials had warned them that people hunted in these wounds. The gun laws out here weren’t like the strict zero-tolerance laws in The City. It was rumored everyone in the sticks had a weapon. Maybe the sky warrior chasing her had been shot? Did he need help?