MINE! [New World Book 8] (2 page)

“Watch she doesn’t bite it off, buddy,” Jack yelled when he stuck his head out the door. He grabbed a handful of the little man’s shirt and dragged him inside. The shuttle door closed with the small man yelling for Huck not to hurt the female.

Huck frowned, the little male was desperate, pounding on the shuttle door. Malice wasn’t Huck’s intent. There were renegade Tonan who had joined Cobra and the number was growing. The only way to join the winning side, Cobra’s side, was to have a mate. Huck wasn’t stupid. The Zargonnii and Castian warriors teamed up with mated Tonans. Dark warriors joined with Cobra as well. The Gorgano joined with rebel Tonans, but neither side trusted the other. It was a fool’s convenience for an alliance and would lead to no good. The few remaining Tonans were evil. Huck was ashamed of his race. Yes, Tonans should be feared. But the dumbasses were dropping like flies.

There was no doubt in Huck’s mind he could tame a human female. All he had to do was find her. Taking a step, Huck stopped as grim realization settled. There was one other thing he had to do. Cobra allowed no liars. Between Castians and Tonans, it was well known the longer the Tonan tail the bigger the liar. Huck had told his share of lies, he wasn’t ashamed, but there was no way around the inevitable. He paused at an audible shudder from his shield for the task at hand. He took a deep breath and braced himself. Huck gripped his tail in a fist. With a giant tug he ripped his tail off. Huck threw back his head and bellowed as he flung it to the ground.

“
Fuuuuckkkk.”

The pain was excruciating. Tonan warriors rarely felt pain, their shield protected them, but this was a direct attack on his shield by him. A necessary evil, didn’t mean his shield had to like it. Huck gasped in huge amounts of air. A twelve-hundred-year-old tail didn’t go without cost. For a second he staggered and dropped to a knee. His arm came up to shield his face when the shuttle took that moment to rise and hover, rancid fuel was filtered by his shield, black smoke billowed.

“That piece of shit is on its last leg,” Huck muttered.

The foliage around him stirred, few sticks danced wildly then settled as the shuttle shot forward. If the vessel survived another ozone entry he’d be surprised. The female was lucky he sent her companions on their way without her.

Groaning, Huck stood, hands braced on his knees. His breath evened and he straightened. He refrained from placing a hand on his ass. A breeze brought him the scent he desired and he tilted his head slightly to the left. The smell was subtle but enough. As he began, to move he realized the female was heading toward his shuttle. It meant she was searching for useful items. He hoped she wasn’t a thief. Cobra was strict when it came to integrity. Huck would beat her if he had to, he wouldn’t put up with sticky fingers.

Luck was on his side he’d found a human scent at all after his shuttle console detected erect heat sources emanating from the planet surface. Humans were hard to come by. He hoped the female was cute and he hoped she was of child bearing years. There was time to produce a son. At his age, the probability of conception during the last stage of must was still high. If he showed up on Cobra’s planet, he’d have a much better chance if not only mated but his mate carrying with a piece of his shield. Cobra would have to take him. Giving an offspring a piece of a warrior shield showed integrity. The idea made him groan. Huck hadn’t needed integrity in…well ever.

Huck hated the desire for companionship, but flying around the galaxy on a one man mission was annoying. His shield was getting on his nerves.

“Why couldn’t I have been born evil filth? Life would be so much easier.”

Huck supposed it could’ve been worse, being born with the nil capacity for compassion. Then again, he figured if he was, he wouldn’t care. He never really thought of the need for others until everyone was gone. He loathed being on Tonan ships when a female human was destroyed. Each death brought the Tonans closer to annihilation. When evil cares for nothing it means they don’t care for themselves. That wasn’t the way Huck wanted to live. For him there was a need for a hive. For him to belong, sacrifices had to be made.

Letting the humans go without slaughtering even one was annoying. It would have been pleasant to crush the throat of the ass named Jack. That male’s scent was repulsive, wormy; his character was without scruples. But, it wouldn’t have been a fair battle. A human can’t fight with loathsome or repugnant tendencies being used as weapons, and otherwise the male was unarmed. There would be no going to Cobra claiming the males attacked him, his tail would grow. Cobra thought of human males as harmless. If Huck slaughtered the harmless, his new integrity would be in question.

“Stupid growing tail,” he grumbled. “Stupid integrity.”

The pain near his ass was subsiding. Huck gave in to his desire and dropped his shield to rub his butt. He gritted his teeth and snarled. Then, remembering human females were terrified of absolutely everything, he tried to calm his outer features, then stopped trying.

“No one can fucking smile when their ass hurts this bad. She’ll have to suck it up.”

Gait stilted, knees bowed, growling and grouching, he continued on toward his shuttle.

* * * *

Becky saw the shuttle in the clearing. Scorch marks on the ground were few, unlike the trail of devastation their shuttle made during a landing and takeoff. The thrusters on this particular shuttle must be operational and well maintained. Her hand on the hull, she walked around the vessel dragging her fingers over the warm smooth sleekness. It looked like a vessel the Tonans gave to humans to head to Ulsy with, but far more superior and looked in perfect running condition. Of course it was grey.

I hate the color grey.

Tonans had a thing for grey. Becky had seen a shielded Tonan warrior her last day on Earth. The transformation was an eye opener. Ugliest thing she’d ever encountered. Thankfully, she saw the creepy alien on the ground waving a taloned fist at the shuttle as she and the others sped away. Becky chuckled with the image.

There’s pissed and then there’s butt fuck ugly furious as hell pissed.

The fighting in the sky was less as the Earth was deemed uninhabitable the day she escaped. She and her six companions found—stole—the shuttle they traveled in. It was a chance meeting with the other five men. Becky had been roaming with Raymond for a few months. A little guy with a big heart, there was no attraction between the two, simple companionship. They worked together over the months to find food and shelter, always on the move. As time passed there was no denying their circumstances; it was time to abandon Earth.

It had been tricky approaching the Tonan shuttle. Over the course of a few years, Becky and Raymond acquired their own insights into the aliens. They could see in the dark, so day or evening didn’t matter. Their sense of smell was highly toned so downwind was a must. The aliens’ biggest downfall was their arrogance. No Tonan expected any human to make a daring attempt for their craft. What Tonans didn’t know about humans was their tenacity superseded safety. The idea being, if you’re going to die, it was go big or go home. Becky and Raymond went big, obviously, they had no home.

Jack and his lackeys had the same idea as she and Raymond. Both groups stalked the same shuttle at the same time. When realization struck at their inevitable meeting, they joined forces. Their theft was epic. Distract, outmaneuver and a few well-placed sticks of dynamite and they were off. The sky had lit up in various directions almost concealing their escape, except for the lone pissed off Tonan. Becky guessed the shuttle had been his. They all decided to stick together. They’d left Earth and hadn’t looked back. She and her companions went from planet to planet knowing the Tonans were hunting humans. The men would be killed, and Becky knew what the Tonans wanted from human females. Being a pawn in an alien world sucked. Being a nomad sucked. Life sucked.

She was stuck with six horny men who made it their mission every day to inform her why it would be a good idea to sleep with them. Well, five horny men and one man who had no clue where he fit in. Raymond tried at first to stick up for her. He was teased mercilessly. He wasn’t gay, and Becky was annoyed Jack implied the idea numerous times. The Earth falling apart didn’t make every human male lose his sense of honor or chivalry. In fact, Becky guessed many of the men on the shuttle were decent and afraid of being teased by Jack and Tom.

Jack was easy enough for her to handle, and she took charge of her situation. After Becky knocked the five on their asses, Raymond gave in to the ribbing, not necessarily joining the others, but Raymond let her dole out her own punishment. He laughed at a few stupid jokes but for the most part remained aloof. And smiled at her when she sent Tom spinning.

Becky wasn’t interested in a gang bang. Not one of them held her interest. The others were jerks but put their foot down with all of them coming at her at once. Easily she could, and had, kicked their asses. All five wouldn’t have presented a problem, but she was glad no one was interested enough to physically hurt her. There had to be a man out there somewhere in the universe who could at least go toe to toe with her. Her father always told her to marry a man who had your back. People were cowards and attacked from behind. Instinct told her he wasn’t only speaking of fighting.

Thinking of her father made his image pop into her thoughts. It was a picture she shoved away. He was pointing behind her as he died. Wanting her to turn away so she wouldn’t see his last breath. What he went through, she went through. Right now she needed to be strong.

As she slipped around the side of the vessel, Becky noted the door to the shuttle was open. It could mean one of two things, there was someone inside or whoever owned the vessel was close—or they didn’t think anyone would be stupid enough to mess with it. None of the scenarios appealed to her, but desperate times and all…

The sunlight filtered in, lighting the interior. From her vantage point, she could see a replicator and her heart leaped. The object was rectangular and the size of an oven, about two feet off the ground. The grey box had a black light that pulsed from left to right indicating it was on and operational. If the owner was human, he or she might not mind giving them supplies. If the owner wasn’t human, she and the others might be able to overpower the occupant, or occupants. The shuttle looked decidedly less damaged than theirs. Taking what you needed was life; that also sucked, but death would suck worse.

“Hello?”

No one answered. Heart pounding, Becky crept inside wary of someone jumping out at her. A fast glance and she noted a brilliantly lit console near a large square window. An odd machine sat to her right, something she had never seen before. The object was large, surrounded by gleaming metal and strange yellowish see-through glass, with something resembling a seat inside. Warmth radiated from the strange, huge box. If Becky didn’t know better she would assume it was a weird tanning bed.

The floor beneath her feet was smooth and clean, shiny as though recently polished. Her ratty, hole-riddled running shoes looked out of place on the sheer surface. The air inside the shuttle was pure, not a single odor assaulted her and she frowned. Their shuttle stank after a while with the seven of them, no water for washing when their supply, like now, was depleted, and a cranky toilet. Worse was when the food they found gave them indigestion. Noxious human gas in a confined space was killer, and six smelly men—brutal.

Becky’s fingers itched to see if the replicator had decent food. She glanced back out the door, rocked on the balls of her feet for a second and straightened her shoulders.

“In for a penny, in for a pound,” she muttered aloud.

She inched her way to the replicator and crossed her fingers. If the occupant was human there would be food items humans liked, not the smelly tasteless gruel Tonans programed into their replicator which had since broken. It was a sad day when she and the others realized bad food was better than no food. She ran the tips of her fingers across the top of the sleek machine. If she was going to wish for food she was going to make her first attempt count.

“Chocolate ice cream.”

The machine hummed, the inside lit up coming to life. A shimmer of a shape solidified. Becky’s breath swooshed from her lungs. A bowl of chocolate ice cream materialized in front of her and she groaned; her entire body slumped in eager disbelief. It had been so long since she’d had chocolate. She lifted her hands, reaching, and held the bowl, cupping it; her fingers caressed the cold, grey spoon handle. Her eyes feasted on the two perfectly round balls of waiting heaven. Her mouth watered. Trembling made the bowl quake, the spoon clattered until she picked up a giant-sized mouthful and dove in.

“
Ah,
brain freeze.”

Her mumble was around an open-mouthed dance. The back of her front teeth tingled. In her eagerness she didn’t know whether to chew or suck, so she did both. Spoonful after spoonful was crammed into her mouth. Her tongue and teeth and lips were frozen. The heavenly taste made her taste buds sing. Her belly rumbled as she swallowed as though anticipating the treat. Becky licked the bowl clean and replaced it. The bowl and spoon disappeared.

“Chocolate milk, cold.”

A large glass appeared and Becky wrapped her hand around the hard, cold substance. Lifting the glass she sniffed the contents and brought it to her lips. Lazily she sucked in the first few mouthfuls then guzzled the contents stopping only long enough to breathe. When she finished she placed the glass back and put her hand over her thumping heart.

“Sugar rush.”

For a second, she wondered if the machine would replace her ratty clothing. The idea was tempting but her need to see the rest of the craft overrode her desire. The ripped tan pants and dull, pathetically-stained t-shirt could wait. She wandered around the shuttle noting there were three rooms. One was decidedly for captives. The door was long bars, two-inch spaces, the room visible to the other two rooms. An area was enclosed for washing, still see-through. An open area containing a toilet sat in a corner, visible. There would be zero privacy in this room. The thought made her wonder. The owner might be a Tonan warrior after all. If there was a Tonan wandering the planet they were all in danger. Being in the shuttle was asking for trouble.