Prime Obsession (13 page)

Yeah, he’d told her to sit tight, but staying safe while others fought was not her style.

Besides, the Antareans were far too busy running for their lives from the mighty Prime warrior and his ship to worry about one little planet survivor.

Mel stood up and headed for the hiding place where she’d stashed the explosives.

After that, she’d make one Antarean ship into a heap of scrap metal—if Wulf hadn’t already done so by the time she reached the surface.

* * * *

Melina’s mental touch soothed him. Against all odds, she was alive. The rusty prayers from his youth had been answered.

Better yet, she seemed relieved that he’d come. The separation had been just as hard for her as it had for him. The fact that she could feel his emotions so far away and then communicate with him proved how strong the imprinting was. If it was this strong after only the initial awakening, he could only imagine how closely they’d be connected once they merged physically and were in constant contact.

Primitive instincts told him to get to her, pull her to him and never again let her out of his sight. With only her at his side could he be complete.

But to get to her, he had to go through an unknown number of Antareans.

The molten-hot rage that had been Wulf’s constant companion for the last twenty hours subsided. Like an icy armor, his nerves now steeled themselves for battle.

He’d caused Melina pain with his fury. Protective instincts he’d never used before sought his mate, then sent what she needed from him—soothing warmth, stroking and holding her in ephemeral arms until he could do so in person.

Without the potent mix of anger and grief he’d experienced after seeing the destruction on the planet—after he’d thought she’d died—he could now sense his
gemat
sign as it pulsed and swirled in reaction to her nearness. His loins ached with the need to claim her.

Soon. After.

Melina was still in danger. His message of staying safe was instinctive and one she would ignore as beneath her notice. He knew her now. His battle-mate would continue to fight until either the last Antarean
apayebo
was dead or he took her away from this unholy rock.

Guess he’d better even the odds in their favor. Then, he could land and begin his search for his runaway mate.

Eyeing the area around the scientific expedition’s domes, he swore. No one could have survived that barrage. Melina must have been elsewhere when the attack occurred.

Admiral Nelson had mentioned that Melina’s distress call confirmed she was the only survivor. His
gemate
had lost her parents—her friends. She’d been alone, yet she had survived. His pride in her strength and courage increased triple-fold.

But now, she no longer had to fight alone.

Narrowing in on a large group of Antareans attempting to get back to their ship, he swept the ground with a laser cannon barrage, forcing them to run back from where they’d started. The domes.

“Uh-unh, no you don’t,” he muttered, his words a low rasping growl echoed within the small command area.

Smiling grimly, he swept the domes with a fusillade of laser streams. The living left the collapsing structures and headed for the catacombs.

Now that was absolutely unacceptable. He sensed that Melina was in the ancient Prime underground fortification.

He lay down a stream of laser fire across the path of the Antareans, successfully halting their progress. Then he precision-blasted them into subatomic size particles.

“Let’s see them regenerate now,” he snarled.

His ship swooped over the hills that protected the catacombs before circling back around to take another pass over the valley. He passed over the Antarean ship, sitting on a dry lakebed. Time to take out the
apayebote’s
only way to escape.

Just as on his initial approach to the planet, his sensors did not indicate any life forms on board. The Antareans must have been awfully sure of themselves to leave the warship empty. But why wouldn’t they be? The only person on Obam IV who would be dangerous to them was Melina—and they’d discount her as a threat. All reptile-like species considered females as biological conveniences and nothing more.

As he prepared to take a strafing run, movement at the back of the ship caught his eye. He made another low, slow pass and spied a small figure. Melina! She placed something inside one of the weapon slots. He sought her mind. She was going to blow up the ship.

“That’s my battle-mate,” he whispered, torn between admiration for her guts and the desire to spank her for placing herself in danger.

His assumption that she wouldn’t stay put had been correct. He shook his head.

They’d have a small talk about obeying one’s
gemat
in dangerous situations. She should have trusted that he would take out the Antarean ship.

An angry snort flickered through his head.
“You could have said you were going to
do it.”

He’d forgotten she was also tuned into him. This telepathic connection would take time to get used to.

She looked up, hands on her hips.
“I’m not helpless; if I were a man you would’ve
expected me to share the load.”

He choked back a laugh.

She waved, then pointed to a large spot made for landing a ship on the top of the hill overlooking the lake bed.
“Land there. I’ll make my way and meet you at the catacomb
entrance to the plateau.”

“I see it.”

He swooped over the landing spot marked with Prime symbols. He’d be able to find the entrance to the catacombs from the markings. The high ground was eminently defensible and would keep his ship safer from attack by any remnants of the Antareans.

The catacombs would be deadly to anyone not Prime, or to one like Melina who had studied it. No Antareans would make it to the top without falling into a trap.

It seemed almost appropriate that they’d come together for the first time—and they
would
come together, he was not taking a chance that she got away from him again without the final awakening—in a Prime site his ancestors had abandoned over a millennium ago. This site was built in a time when battle-mates were plentiful and the Prime race had been at its most powerful.

After he made love to Melina and tucked her safely away on his ship, then he’d root out the remainder of the devil-blessed
apayebote
who dared to come after what was his.

* * * *

Smiling at the cocky way Wulf handled his star cruiser, Mel placed the final set of charges.

Wulf had gotten as many of the Antareans as he could from the air. Those remaining had gone to ground. The next phase would be going after the stranded remnants of the raiding party—stranded, that is, after she blew up their damn ship.

Mel grinned with anticipation. After a short rest, Wulf and she could team up and go hunting. She was certain Wulf wouldn’t want to leave any of the Antareans alive. She was just as certain he’d try to cut her out of the fun. But that wasn’t going to happen.

After all, even he acknowledged she was his battle-mate.

All was quiet now that Wulf had stopped strafing the ground with laser cannon. No Antareans were anywhere near their ship. Wulf had scared them into going to ground.

She scanned the sky. Wulf’s ship headed for the Prime landing area on the plateau above the catacombs. He should be able to read the signs to the entrance, since she knew the Prime military still used the symbology of their ancestors. Her sojourn through the maintenance tunnels on the
Galanti
confirmed that. Many of the traps were similar in nature. He would be fine, plus he could always touch her mind and ask if he needed help.

Like that would happen, she snorted with amusement. But he’d learn—eventually.

Compromise was a two-way path.

Mel turned back and connected the last firing device. She’d blow the ship by remote once she got to adequate cover.

She needed to get a move on. Surviving Antareans would soon crawl out of their holes and head to the supposed safety of their ship now that Wulf was not pursuing them from the sky.

Shrugging on her backpack, she tightened the straps across her chest. At a quick trot, she headed toward the lakeside tunnel entrance hidden behind a rock wall.

Feelings of hatred swept over her just as a laser shot sent dirt and bits of rock flying around her feet. Without hesitating she broke into a run, zigging and zagging, making herself as small a target as possible. Fifty meters would see her behind the rock wall. She could then reset the entrance trap and be safe from any pursuers.

A shot seared her thigh. She stumbled and fell. Rolling over and up onto her knees, she pulled out the dart gun and prepared to shoot the Antarean that pursued her.

A laser blast knocked the weapon from her hand.

Turning her head, she squinted against the glare of the sun. A dark shadow emerged from behind a pile of rocks. Shock caused her jaw to drop open.

The person shooting at her was not Antarean.

“Parker!”

“Yeah, Parker,” said the man with a sneer. He moved to stand over her. “How do you like my new friends?”

“You dickless traitor.” Keeping her eyes on his face, Mel scooted away, her injured leg slowing her movement.

His eye twitched.

She rolled to the side just as he shot, aiming for her other leg. He missed, but not by much.

She managed to scramble to her feet, then placed most of her weight on her good leg.

“Damn, I missed.” A supercilious smirk twisting his lips, her former nemesis holstered his pistol and stalked her as she limped backwards, toward the rock wall hiding the catacomb entrance.

“I don’t need a gun to take you down, now do I?” A heated, ominous glance swept over her body from top to bottom. “Leg hurt much?” He laughed, then licked his thick lips. “You know? I’ve always wanted to do you over good.” His hands went to the zipper on his flight suit. “This is as good a time as any. Killing always makes me horny.” The look on his face was one she’d seen many times as she helped police the galaxy.

Sexual depravity etched every line of his face. He would hurt her—rape her—then slowly kill her.

“You come near me, I’ll kill you.”

“You can try, bitch. Take off your clothes.” Parker stopped two meters from her, just out of her kicking range.

“No,” she snarled.

“Then I guess I’ll have to do it myself.”

His smile told her she wouldn’t like the way he’d accomplish the maneuver.

His ugly gaze never left her as he pulled a knife from a scabbard attached to his belt.

Consciously, Mel had erected mental walls as soon as she’d sensed danger. Now, she reinforced them. She had to cut off her connection to Wulf and hoped this mental exercise would do the job. She didn’t need any lectures or distractions from her alpha-male. All her concentration had to be on winning this fight. Even worse, she didn’t need Wulf roaring down the side of the mountain in a berserker rage to save her. She could save herself by using Parker’s biggest weakness … his sense of superiority. And in doing so, she’d prove to Wulf, once and for all, that she was his equal on the battlefield.

Mel backed away until she sensed the rock wall just behind her. This should be far enough away from the Antarean ship. Slowly, she pulled a knife from her belt with her damaged hand.

Parker eyed her move like a cobra watching its prey. “Oooh, a knife fight. This should be fun.” He laughed, the sound as sick and evil as his soul.

Predictable Parker. Always so easily distracted, dirtbag.

As he kept an eye on her knife hand, she reached behind her into an outside pocket on the pack and flipped open the detonator for the charges. She pushed the button as she lunged for Parker’s knife arm.

Multiple explosions rent the air. The ground trembled. Rocks tumbled all around them. Prepared for the blast and its resulting concussion, Mel managed to keep her balance and forward momentum.

Parker lurched and stumbled as if he’d been on a week-long bender, dropping his guard. “What the fuck?” he shouted.

The dumbass never learned.

Mel slashed his wrist, causing him to drop his knife. Pivoting on her good leg, she swept around and slashed the knife across his throat before he’d even finished screaming at the pain from her first strike.

Blood spurted from the severed carotid and the major vein in his wrist. Parker fell to the ground.

He didn’t get back up.

Mel wiped her knife on his pants leg and resheathed it. Checking for breath, she found none. The knife had sliced clean through his carotid. The traitorous bastard had died too easily. At least she now knew who’d sold her out to the Antareans and led the enemy to kill her parents.

New scents of evil preceded shouts of rage. The enemy had seen her—and they weren’t too happy with her over the loss of their only means of leaving the planet.

“Time to go,” she muttered as she retrieved the dart gun then hobbled behind the rock wall and into the tunnel. She stopped only long enough to rearm the death trap.

Weak from her own blood loss and pain, she used the tunnel walls to hold her up as she traveled the path that led to the plateau entrance. To Wulf and safety.

She smiled at the irony of her thoughts. For all her independence, knowing she had a Prime warrior to back her up was comforting. She had no doubt that, even now, if she had to she could defend herself. But why waste the energy and risk further injury when she had a Prime male jonesing to take care of her? Maybe this “mating” deal was a win-win situation.

Of course, she’d never tell Wulf that. His male ego and bossiness needed no supplementing from her. A battle-mate had to have some secrets from her man.

After slowly traversing two levels of tunnels, she realized she wasn’t going to make it. She had to sit down. Rest. Wulf would have to come to her.

Looking around she realized she was near the conjunction of two of the main catacomb corridors. She couldn’t stop here. It wasn’t safe. So far she’d lucked out and hadn’t met any Antareans.

But they were near. She could sense them.

Now, how to get to a safe place so she could take down her mental barriers and let her mate know she needed him? To this point, she’d been successful in blocking her close call, the resulting injury, and her exhaustion from Wulf. She’d been fairly sure he’d cut corners, become careless in an attempt to get to her, and she didn’t want his death or injury on her conscience.

She’d have to find a place to hole up and then send him a “little help” call. With her hidden and safe, he could methodically make his way to her.

Mel wondered if all battle-mates had had to cater to their mates’ over-protective tendencies. She sighed. Just like most male-female relationships, the woman had the harder job in the Prime imprinting. And damn, Mel hated compromise.

Turning a corner, she spotted the markings for an access to another higher path shielded by one of the waist-high curtain walls.

Gritting her teeth, she reached for and found the first handhold with her uninjured hand and began the laborious, approximately six-meter climb. About half way up, her injured hand gave way, pushed beyond its limited capabilities. Only her strong hand and tenacity kept her from falling. She breathed heavily as she hugged the cold stone wall.

She was so close to the top, but wasn’t sure she could make it the last few feet.

Echoing down the tunnel were the unmistakable sounds of the enemy.

Her senses flew open. Four Antareans heading her way. Fast.

Dammit.
She was stuck like a fly in a web on this damn rock wall.

Her strength diminished, she gave in and reached for Wulf. Compromise was better than dead.

“Wulf? Uh, a little help here.”
She sent him a mental image of her predicament.

“Lubha?”
His angry growl reverberated through her mind. “
You’re injured!”

“It’s fine. Just tired.”

His mental muttering in Prime didn’t come across their link as clearly as his growl had, but she got the message. She could almost feel the spanking he promised. She choked back a totally inappropriate laugh. She thought she might just like a spanking—

from him. And that growl made her womb ache with need. She must be perverted.

“
Ansu bhau, lubha. Get up the wall, woman.
”

A phantom hand planted on her ass practically shoved her up the rock face. As she struggled over the curtain wall with her last bit of energy and the aid from the mind-body connection, ghostly fingers caressed her bottom as they released her.

Safe, she lay on the rock ledge, gasping for breath as the cavern spun around her.

“Thanks, Wulf.”

A warm caress swept over her back, imparting warmth and strength.
“I’m on my
way.”

After several long minutes, Mel dragged herself along the upper path in a belly crawl, away from the sounds of the approaching Antareans. She ignored her injured thigh as it scraped along the rough floor, leaving a bloody trail. She used her forearms to pull her along.

There was a hidden room just ahead. A safe room, her father had called it. It had water and light and warmth. She’d played in it as a child, the perfect, secret hideaway for a young, adventurous girl.

Finding the unique rock glyphs that indicated the entrance, she triggered the door mechanism. The sliding panel opened as silently as the day it had been built. She crawled inside and pulled herself upright. Touching a pressure pad, she closed the door and then hit another sensor and turned on ambient lighting.

She limped to a chaise her father had placed in the room and sat down. She shrugged off her pack and let it fall. Pulling it to her side with her good hand, she snagged her water bottle and drank the rest of it. Placing her pack and the bottle on the floor next to the day bed, she lay down, carefully arranging her wounded leg, cradling her wounded hand against her chest. The bleeding had stopped on her hand, but her thigh had been traumatized during her crawl. It needed tending. She couldn’t find the strength to do it.

Wulf would be here soon—he could tend her, he’d like that.

Before lapsing into unconsciousness, she pictured the cross-tunnels, the doorway, and the symbols to access the room.

Wulf’s acknowledgment tickled her mind. It was sort of nice to have this telepathic connection. She slipped into a deep sleep knowing he would find her. All was well.