ARMOR [New World Book 2] (3 page)

Dasks knew the female in the
cave was afraid of him. She had never set eyes on a Castian warrior. His armor
was impressive. Dasks was massive compared to human males. The fifteen men he
had cut through were so simple, it was pathetic. Castian males had no need of
Earth males. Only the females. The males of this planet were collateral damage.
Dasks didn’t have to kill them all, but after smelling their filth, he couldn’t
help himself. All of them had known there was a female present. All fifteen of
them were aroused. They would have killed her like a Tonan would have. Tonans
were without honor. Dasks’ first encounter with human males had left a sour
taste in his mouth.

When Dasks had come across
the two small creatures talking earlier, he could scent they were female. One
had the oddest shade of hair coloring he had ever seen. It was as russet as
Dargon’s two suns setting low in the sky. The other had hair dark as night,
like him. The russet female had a spatter of tiny brown dots across her nose.
The other’s complexion was clear except for a thumb streak of dirt across her
delicate chin.

Both females were beautiful,
but the dark-haired one looked different somehow. Stronger in character. Dasks
had watched the little female as she spoke to her friend earlier. Dasks was
excited to see two of them. He and his warrior mate, Talsk, had split up when
the Castian ship had landed. Neither was in danger from any of Earth’s creatures.
Their armor was almost indestructible, invincible on Earth. Each was in search
of his own life-mate and if Dasks found a second woman for Talsk it would be a
double mating. The idea was pleasing.

Both females were so tiny
they reminded Dasks of his pet Glosh, Ebbie. He wanted to pick them up and
cuddle them like he had Ebbie when he was a child. The idea made him smile. He
hadn’t thought of Ebbie in years. He had been a gift from his mother. Ebbie had
died when Dasks was fifty, at the age of one hundred, he had deactivated
Ebbie’s hologram program. After all, he was close to manhood. He had outgrown
the pet. It was only an interactive image; it didn’t need him. Looking at the
human female had given him a warm scent of responsibility toward another again.
Cobra was right; these females did get under a warrior’s armor.

Dasks had smelt how worried
both women were for the dark-haired female while they had spoken together. When
the dark-haired one set out, Dasks thought it best to keep a close eye on her.
She was up to something. The russet female had retreated back into the cave
with a small limp. The female winced when she had taken a step. The little
russet was injured and Dasks had felt sorry for her. He and Talsk needed to get
her into their healing waters. A distinguishable odor of foreboding had hung
thickly between the two women.

The dark-haired female hadn’t
detected him and Dasks had taken his time studying her. Her scent was
intoxicating. Her perfect little body moved with grace over and through the
heavy bush. He knew she couldn’t see in the dark the way he did. She stumbled
over a few pieces of debris but recovered quickly. If she were to stop and look
right at him she wouldn’t have seen him. Her dark hair was barely to her
shoulders. Her skin was as white as the blossoms of an Effie flower in full
bloom. The set determination of her shoulders was his undoing.
Tiny
strength.

When the scent of men had
filled his nostrils at the circle with fire, Dasks was uneasy. The smell of
blood was prominent. Dasks saw the roast of flesh on the fire and grimaced.
How
barbaric.
Knowing the humans needed to hunt and kill didn’t prepare him for
the sight. As long as Dasks could remember his food was replicated. There was
no need to harm any creature. The men had a kill and it was apparent they were
full of themselves at their seeming prowess. It was dangerous for a female to
be around them. But the little thing, Amy her friend called her, was
persistent.

Dasks had settled in a tree
to watch. It had been cute the way her flying weapon had injured the man in the
camp circle. Dasks had been informed that males of Earth weren’t in possession
of self-acting body armor. It was strange to see an actual physical attack, and
by something so small. The hard-flung pebble she had sent whizzing through the
air would have only tapped Dasks’ armor without notice.

Amy was a fast little thing
and cunning. When she had grabbed the meat and rolled into her hiding place he
had been concerned for her. The meat was devoured. She was starving!

Still Dasks had refrained
from interfering. He guessed the meat was her mission, nothing more. It was
obvious to him that she had intended to take more food back to her friend. He
had sensed Amy’s worry and even a small scent of hurt betrayal. Dasks guessed
the female was no thief, just desperate. The appalling male creatures wouldn’t
have shared with her—Dasks was positive—and his fury had escalated. No wonder
the female felt betrayed. Her own kind had turned on her. When she had
scampered out a second time, she had made the mistake of giggling when she hit
her target. Dasks had to admit he had almost laughed with her at the man’s
sprawled form while holding his manhood. He had never seen such a sight, but
witnessing it gave Dasks an odd cringe in his groin area—though he had never
been nailed directly in that spot. He was decidedly feeling empathy for the
male rolling about. It was so strange.

Three men had heard Amy’s
silly laughter and she was in danger. When the first man had grabbed her, Dasks
knew he was a dead man. When his female—and she
was
Dasks’—threatened
the men one-by-one with her false bravado, he knew what he would do. When they
pounced on her, Dasks was in motion and let her threat play out. She had never
said they would die by her hand after all. No one was allowed to harm what was
his.

Amy had looked just as terrified
of Dasks as the men had when he made his presence known. His armor had touched
her for a brief second. To his surprise a small square of his shield dropped
where her splayed fingers settled. Her terror hurt him in a way that shocked
him.
He felt her.
For a second they were one until the contact broke as
he strode forward. Cobra had mentioned human females were emotional creatures
and his body would react to soothe fears, but to feel her emotion as well as
smell it was something Dasks wasn’t used to. The dampness in her touch had
seeped into him and his own skin had produced secretions on that one single
area. When the touch broke, his shield snapped back into place. He had reacted
in a rage at her fear while his armor struggled to control it and regulate his
emotion. Dasks couldn’t help it, he wanted the men slaughtered, but he also
wanted to have her now. The urge to mate with her was phenomenal. It was his
first feeling of sexual arousal. The sudden conflict that had assailed him was
almost maddening.

When his fury-induced killing
spree was in high heat and she lay helplessly on the ground before him, Dasks understood
Cobra’s warning. A Castian in must was a danger to himself and a female. If his
armor came down to mate with her, he would be vulnerable. He couldn’t let his
hormones’ sexual overdrive interfere with her survival. He had told her to run.
He would catch up with her easily enough once the threat of the other men had
passed.

Dasks sighed. Pondering the
dilemma was hopeless. He had no idea what to do. When he had saved her, he
thought she would be pleased. In her mind, she should have likened him to one
of those knights in shining armor he had read about while on the ship here.
Dasks had read everything he could about human females and what they liked.
Maybe he could find a creature called a puppy and lure her out. Or
chocolate…whatever that dark substance was female humans seemed to crave.

A warning in Dasks’ armor
sounded and he growled in frustration. There was no sun to speak of here and
after his battle, meager as it was, his armor needed to regenerate. That meant
he needed to get back to the ship. With a last longing look cast in the
direction of the cave, Dasks began to slip away. His muscles bunched as he launched
himself into the nearest tree. His female should be safe enough. He detected no
immediate threat. The male in the cave must be known to her. Dasks stopped dead
and clung upside down in the tree for a moment. He hated the hardness of the
unyielding bark, he was used to a more spongy terrain, but he had more
worrisome thoughts.

What if she’s mated to the
male in the cave?

Cobra had warned that some of
the females could be mated. Though the males on this planet didn’t mark their
females, they were attached to each other. Dasks would need the help of another
Castian to kill the mate. Cobra explained that in human culture the male and
female didn’t normally die the same day if they were mated. The female was in
no danger if her mate expired.
What an odd culture. How could they bond?
Nevertheless Amy would never come to him or trust him if he were the one to end
her mate’s life. Dasks began to jump-run once again. His speed increased until
he was nothing more than a blur to the human eye.

Dasks decided he would ask
Cobra if he had any ideas. The little female couldn’t stay in that cave
forever. She needed food; the poor thing was starving. Dasks stopped dead in
his tracks and once more hung upside down in a tree pondering his thoughts.
Food.
Of course. He would coax his little female, Amy, out of the cave with food. She
would show herself, if not for her then for the sake of the others.

Dasks, you’re brilliant.

* * * *

“Dasks, you’re an idiot. This
will never work. Why would any scared female show herself for mere food?” Talsk
said grumpily.

“Shhh,” Dasks commanded.
“Because she’s starving. There’s no food here and she’s desperate. I saw how
desperate she was last night. She was almost injured stealing from the males I
saved her from.”

“The males starve their women
here? Are they related to Tonan filth?” Talsk sounded appalled. “No wonder
Cobra was so urgent to come here.”

It was on the tip of Dasks’
tongue to say they weren’t starved on purpose. Earth was being depleted of
sustenance. Even the males were malnourished and desperate. Then he remembered
the men he had killed. They wouldn’t have shared with his female; they would
have harmed her for the sake of meat. So he remained silent and let his warrior
mate think what he wanted. Talsk cocked his head at Dasks and Dasks shrugged.

No one knew him better than
Talsk. Each Castian warrior took a warrior mate. Talsk and Dasks warrior mated
by biting one another during their mating ceremony and exchanging blood when
they were only twelve. They were inseparable, bonded. Their feelings were
heightened toward each other almost to the point of being able to read the other’s
thoughts. Each always knew where the other was. Each knew if the other was in
danger. A Castian fought armored with no weapon. Weapons were for the weak. A
Castian and his warrior mate always fought back-to-back. They moved so quickly
there wasn’t anything that could come between them.

The small cave hiding his
woman was in sight and Dasks could smell her fear. Everyone remained quiet in
the cave, as though their silence would be taken for vacancy. What the humans
didn’t realize was that Dasks and Talsk smelled them, their emotions. They had
left a basket of food in plain view then had moved off to hide.

“I sense seven women,” Talsk
said, his head tilted curiously. “One male and two very little female smells.
What do you suppose they are? The little ones I mean.”

“Pets?”

“Female pets?”

“Would humans keep little
humans as pets?” Dasks asked. It was a mystery. Nevertheless two small human female
scents were detectable.

“Maybe they will send the
pets out for the food,” Talsk said.

Dasks could sense his warrior
mate’s overwhelming curiosity.

“If they do, don’t kill them.
I read humans can become attached to their pets.”

Talsk’s scent was now that of
being appalled. “I would never harm anything female.”

“Shh,” Dasks whispered.
“She’s coming out.”

“She’s beautiful,” Talsk said
with appreciation.

A new scent from Talsk
invaded Dasks’ nose and he bristled.

“She’s mine,” Dasks growled.
Talsk looked at him. Dasks could sense his warrior mate’s hurt confusion. Dasks
had never growled at him. “Sorry, Talsk.”

“Your male hormones are
unusually spiked,” Talsk said.

“I know. I can’t help it when
she’s around. My skin touched hers and I felt her. There is something primal about
mating.”

“We should get ready. She’s
almost at the bait.”

Dasks nodded. They watched
Amy’s timid approach from over thirty feet away.

She scanned the area, took a
step, stopped, scanned. When Amy was close enough, she grabbed the food they
had set on a stump and made a mad dash for safety. Her arms sagged under the
weight and her steps faltered. The basket with replicated meats and cheese and
bread was close enough to the cave to give her a false sense of security. It
had been weighted down with a few rocks.

The female had no idea just
how fast a Castian warrior in armor was. Dasks was at the crevice entrance
before Amy had gone three steps. Her gasp of alarm made his heart race until
his armor controlled it.