Initiation (Xylon Warriors 1) (3 page)

Only then would he fill her with his cock. Spill his hot seed inside her. Brand her with his mark, so everyone knew she belonged to
him
.

And finally after she’d come, wild and hard, he’d take her again. Soft and slow. Bring her to the brink, then push her over into an orgasm that lasted so long she’d collapse from exhaustion. He could hardly wait.

He shook his head. What was he thinking? The dream must have affected his reasoning. He couldn’t Brand her. She wasn’t his to keep, unless The Council so decreed. He could mate with her, but that’s all.

Mate
. No. Again, wrong way to think about it. He rubbed the back of his neck. He’d have to seek The Council’s permission to make her his mate. And he’d need Laszlo’s approval, too. The man had only asked him to initiate her. Lead the
fucking-frenzy
as the Warriors called it. Ensure her protection and prepare her for breeding. Then he’d have the option of keeping her as his mistress, if he so chose and Laszlo didn’t claim her, until The Council selected another breeder mate. Nothing more would be his right, simply because he wanted it to be so.

Sirens wailed in the distance, the sounds increasing as they neared. Alexa must have called the authorities.

“How long do we have before we leave orbit and head back to Xylon? I’ll need time to gain her trust. I won’t take her by force.”

When he received no answer, he peered over his shoulder. Laszlo was gone.

Chapter Two

Alexa pulled into the driveway and jammed on the brakes. The car jerked to a halt. She killed the engine and dropped her forehead onto the steering wheel.

Her heart pounded, her limbs shook, and her breath came in ragged pants. Her fingers gripped the steering wheel so tightly they ached. “Why did you involve me in this, Mother? What’s the secret you’ve been so fiercely protecting me from all my life?” She shook her head. “Journal or no, I am never going back to that damn cemetery again. I’m getting out of this town as soon as possible.”

When she’d reached her rental car in the cemetery parking lot, she had called the police on the car phone, but had refused to give her name. The last thing she wanted was to repeat what she’d seen to some officer. Let them discover the fuckers, literally, on their own. At least she knew if that woman had been a victim, instead of a willing participant, she’d done the right thing by calling for help.

For tonight, she wanted to go inside and forget. Soak in a hot bubble bath. Crawl between warm flannel sheets, watch some mindless comedy on television, and sip on a cup of hot chocolate with lots of mini marshmallows.

A slam into the windshield brought her head up with a snap. She sat stunned for a moment. “No!” The scream tore from her throat.

Lizard-man sat crouched on the hood. His long tongue swiped back and forth across the window glass, leaving a creamy substance behind. She remembered where that tongue had been, and gulped in a large pocket of air. This was not happening. “Go away!”

His yellowish eyes glowed in the night. A reflection from the street lamp, just like the light in the cemetery. It had to be. Nobody had yellow eyes.

She fumbled for the phone and dialed the emergency number. Someone answered almost immediately.
Thank you
! “I need—wait! No! Don’t put me on hold! Shit.”

She tossed the phone and fumbled with the car keys, trying to re-start the motor. She needed to get out of there! The grotesque man had found her, knew where she lived. How? He couldn’t possibly have followed her on foot.

The driver’s-side door flew open, as the engine roared to life. Another yellow-eyed man! She shifted into reverse and stepped on the gas. The wheels spun, but the car didn’t move.

A pair of meaty hands grabbed her and dragged her out onto the pavement. She’d locked that door! And he had opened it as if the lock was no barrier at all. He spun her around and held her captive against his chest, her back to his front. Strong fingers dug into her arms, keeping her trapped against him.

She knew him.

The large-cocked man. She had recognized him before he’d turned her around. She felt his hard shaft pressing against her from behind. Images from the graveyard flashed through her mind, and her panic rose to a frenzied level.

“Please. I didn’t do anything. I didn’t see anything,” she lied. “Whatever you’re involved with is none of my business. I’m not going to tell anyone. Just let me go. I’ll forget you were even here.”

She fought the urge to struggle. He was strong, his grip painful. And there were two of them. It would be a waste of energy. She’d have to think her way out of this one.

Do they know I called the police? If so, they also knew her words were a lie. This could be some sort of retaliation. An attempt to shut her up permanently.

With a strange accent that she didn’t recognize, Large-cock whispered in her ear. “We bring message from Daegal. He says you will serve him on Marid. We initiate. Take your body, Alexa. Make you sterile, so you are good for fuck-bitch only.”

She shook her head. His words were a jumble of confusion that she wasn’t processing.

“After so, we have fun. You will eat my pole. Lick and slurp ‘til I spurt, then swallow spunk like graveyard whore.”

Her stomach churned. If she’d had anything in her gut, she would have lost it. “Let…me…go!” Wait. He’d used her name. How did he know her name?

Out of the shadows, a third man awkwardly loped toward her, one leg shorter than the other one. The breast-sucker!

She kicked out at him, landing a blow to his thigh. “Stay away from me!”

He kept coming.

Large-cock twisted her arm, and she shrieked, the pain so bad she had a difficult time catching her breath. She sagged against his chest.

“No more fight, or we whip pussy—three straps. Hurt bad.”

Alexa couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped her throat. Images of them holding her down and beating her flooded her mind. How had her life turned from simple, safe, freelance photography to this? She sniffled, but was determined not to cry. Not now, when she needed her wits about her.

As the pain in her arm eased, she tried to relax, tried to regain some strength and control. Think, Alexa! There had to be a way out of this. There was always a way out of dangerous situations, if one could find it.

About equal to her shoulder height, Breast-sucker hovered, unhurt by her kick. He picked at the coat she wore, plucking open the buttons one by one. His nails were longer than her manicurist’s! Except for his index fingers, which looked de-clawed and resembled thick, rough stumps.

“Please…” she begged. She never thought anything like this would happen to her. She hadn’t planned for it. And she always planned for things, so she knew what to do if the situation arose. Sure, she’d thought she might have problems with a man at some point. But not three men! And especially not men who were so monstrously demented.

“Yes,” he growled, the word barely recognizable. “I please.” With his claws, he dragged aside her coat, then shredded her sweater and bra, like the material was made of paper.

The ripping of her clothes echoed in her ears. Pain raked her chest. “Stop!”

Her bare breasts hung exposed. Blood beaded, staining her flesh, from the scratches left by his claws. The cold air, plus her fear and pain, puckered her skin and hardened her nipples.

“No stop. You like. Have good, full titties. I feed. Suck hard.” He pursed his crooked lips and blew a stream of fetid air over her nipples.

“No!” His use of the word
feed
struck her odd, since that was her exact thought in the cemetery. She twisted and tugged against Large-cock. Who were these creatures? Not college students, for sure, like she’d once thought. More like severely deformed, mental patient escapees with weirdly colored eye contacts. What other explanation could there be?

Atop the car hood, Lizard-man hissed. Alexa’s gaze flew to him. He made an obscene gesture to her, and she immediately stilled. Her struggling only seemed to be exciting them more.

This situation worsened by the second. How could she fight three of them?

Large-cock whispered in her ear again. “He fuck you deep with scream toy. You purr good. We make you cunt-pet. Play with you long. Take you to Marid. Daegal fuck you wild, while Egesa watch and cheer. Sometimes help if Daegal want. Lots of fun.”

Lizard-man flicked his tongue. He jumped off the hood of the car and shook a silver case above his head. Alexa knew what
scream toy
was in that case. And she didn’t intend to become anyone’s pet, or go to Marid, wherever that was, or submit to this Daegal person, whoever he was, not to mention the Egesa, whom she’d never heard of either.

Raving lunatics—that’s what these three were! And she wanted no part of their sick plans. Even though her nearest neighbor was almost a mile down the road, Alexa screamed, over and over, until her throat felt raw.

Unmindful of the ear-splitting sound, Breast-sucker lunged for her exposed, left nipple. Alexa slammed back against Large-cock, trying to knock him off his feet. Anything to get away.

In mid-lunge, Breast-sucker shrieked like no human or animal she’d ever heard, and then disintegrated like confetti before her eyes.

All at once. Gone.

Lizard-man swung around. He clicked his tongue at something in the shadows and then scurried away into the night, dragging the case on the ground behind him.

Alexa felt Large-cock shiver, and he didn’t feel so large anymore. His grip around her arms eased.

She took immediate advantage, twisted, and stomped on his foot with her boot. He wailed, then pushed her, or she fell, because the next thing she knew he was gone and she was on her knees, her palms scraping against the pavement.

Fat raindrops began to fall on the cement around her, and one plopped onto the back of her neck. The icy chill felt good, revitalizing.

She glanced up, in pain, but ready to flee. As soon as her legs would support her. She didn’t know what had just happened and didn’t care, as long as she got away intact. She’d let the police figure it out, after she was safe and sound behind locked doors.

In mid-crouch, a presence stopped her.

A man stood nearby, his hands shoved into a long, dark coat. Feet spread apart. Face obscured by the darkness. “You’re hurt,” he said, his voice tight, angry.

The other man! The dark one from the cemetery. She recognized the tone. This was not happening. Her vision swam in front of her, and she slumped to the ground.

Braden fought back his temper. He should have killed all three of those damn Egesa for daring to put their hands on Alexa.

The two survivors would return to their ship and transmit what happened back to Daegal on Marid. The man would know that Alexa was under a Warrior’s protection, and that at least one Xylon ship was here in Earth’s orbit, cloaked from detection. Maybe it would be a deterrent…for the moment.

He walked over to the car, shut off the engine, and grabbed the keys. Primitive transportation. He coughed at the noxious smell. Gas-fueled vehicles needed to be replaced with something cleaner and more advanced, if Earth hoped to progress beyond their current technological boundaries.

He scooped Alexa up in his arms. She curled into him, as if instinctively knowing he was there to help. Vaguely, he registered how good she felt in his arms, then immediately pushed aside the thought. He had a job to do. She wasn’t his. He didn’t have the right to feel anything. Even though Laszlo had relinquished her to him for now, the man still had the right to come back and claim her as his mate.

The rain began to fall harder, slowly turning to sleet. He needed to get her inside. The poison had already taken effect and caused her to black out. She’d be experiencing the pain soon.

With purposeful strides, he headed up the stone walkway toward the arched front door. Her mother’s home. He’d been monitoring the residence for weeks, waiting for his chance. After the woman died—an unfortunate circumstance, he hoped Alexa would finally come home. “You should have done your job, Adrian, and not kept your daughter from us.”

Alexa would need instruction and training to fulfill her destiny. Provided she survived long enough for him to get her back to Xylon.

* * * * *

A feeling of constriction stirred Alexa. Her eyes fluttered open. She was inside the house, tightly embraced, and someone was carrying her toward the master bedroom.

The stranger.

Would this nightmare ever end? “Let go!” She struggled, arching her back and pushing against his rock-hard chest. She’d have had more success pushing at a wall; he was that unmovable.

“Stop it, Alexa. You’re hurt.”

The use of her name, this time, was as calming as a caress. His voice slid over her, soft and determined. She stilled and stared up into his violet eyes. In the dark, his eyes had looked black, but they were really a dark violet. Menacing, compelling, eerily beautiful.

His hair was black—a military cut that had grown out. The stubble on his face was black; his clothes were black. A small scar on his left cheek, just below the eye, caught her attention. She had the sudden urge to caress the mark of imperfection.

Her weight seemed no problem for him to bear. “How do you know my name? Who are you?”

“My name is Braden Koll.” He entered the master bedroom, pushed open the bathroom door, and set her on the counter between the double sinks. He flipped on the light. “Just sit there, please.”

The word
please
sounded strange coming from the man’s lips. His voice was soft and compelling, but his body was all hard and intense, wound tight.

Her chest began to hurt, and her hands, bringing back the memory of what had happened. “Those men…”

He took out a small tube of something, then shrugged off his coat and draped it over the side of the garden tub. “Don’t worry about them right now.” He glanced down her body.

Alexa followed his gaze and gasped. Her breasts were completely exposed. They looked raw, scraped, spotted with blood. She moved to cover herself, but the stinging in her hands made her wince.