Citun’s Storm Page 9

  “Citun, they’re cannibals. They want you as food not as warriors. We need to run. Call your ship, hurry.”

  As she cried out her fear to Citun, more villagers from under fake mounds of dirt climbed from hiding places to run at them. Storm was amazed, they came from everywhere, she never would have guessed at the ingenuity. The mounds blended so well they were undetectable. Citun managed to click his tracker before being overwhelmed with fifty males. For each warrior there were at least fifty to subdue them. There was no way she could battle so many, no way Citun could.

  A male laughed as Citun and the others fell, saying they could lure the rest of Citun’s men down in groups for their feast. They could kill these warriors first for food. The rest they could hide underground. Storm ran. She didn’t know what to do. At least four hundred aliens had converged onto the warriors.

  None of the males paid her any attention. She knew why. Day had told her. She was female and could carry. There was nowhere for her to go. They would find her eventually. Storm ran until her lungs were about to burst. She dropped to her knees then side and lay face first in the dead earth gasping.

  She rolled over and sat up. Storm knew she had to go back. She had to help. There were too many, though. She couldn’t stand the thought of watching Citun being cooked piece by piece. A small clicking sounded and she wondered for a second if a bug were hunting her. She shook as darkness closed around her, her insides ached. Her guts were screaming in agony. When her feet hit the hard floor she would have fallen if Jari didn’t clasp her to his chest.

  “Take some deep breaths,” Jari said. “It’s hard for a female to transport to our ship when not in the arms of a warrior. Citun shielded you each time.”

  “Jari, those aliens. They want to eat the warriors, get them out of there.” Storm gasped.

  Storm heard a scream and she watched Lano sink to the ground. Jari released Storm and went to pick her up. He cradled Lano against him for a moment before handing her to another.

  “The warriors must have been stripped off their trackers. I can’t get a signal on anyone.” Jari gripped Storm by the shoulders. “How many aliens?”

  “Hundreds, at least fifty to each warrior. They came out of the ground spilling like a hill of ants. Citun and the others never saw it coming.”

  “We need to go get them now,” Taft shouted.

  “There are eighty warriors on this ship. If I lose even one, Citun will have my head. We need a plan,” Jari said.

  “Send me back,” Storm said.

  “Citun would slaughter me,” Jari said.

  “No, listen, I speak their language. I can go back. A female named Day said they wouldn’t hurt me. I’m certain they’ll put me in her care. They would expect you to wait for a message from Citun. Maybe use a device to lure you down in groups for a feast. Once I am in their hands, I can weave between groups and whenever there is a smaller number I can signal. They have lean-tos and hide tents. Small groups won’t be noticed until you can launch one large attack. It’ll take some time but it’s all we have.”

  “How do you plan on luring anyone? Or subduing anyone? The aliens will call a warning the second they see us,” Jari demanded.

  Storm gazed at Ashala. “Ashala can hypnotize while I use my mind ability. We can lure groups of ten or more. But we have to move now. Pots were bubbling.”

  “I scanned the area,” Jari said. “There’s very little water.”

  “They cook in piss.”

  Jari gazed at her as though she had two heads. “Piss?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fuck me, someone find another tracking device for Ashala.”

  “Wait a minute,” Taft howled.

  Ashala gripped Taft’s hand. “It will be fine. Every time I activate the tracker I expect to see your face.”

  Storm watched as a tracker was attached to Ashala. Jari clipped Storm’s off from plain view and held up the nickel-sized black device. She could tell by the embarrassed look on his face what he was about to say, but she spared him the discomfort. The aliens couldn’t see the device, or find it. She plucked the tracker from his hand. Turning her back on the warriors, she slipped her hand into her panties and grimaced with discomfort.

  “Yuck, that’s nasty,” she complained. “I’d make a horrible spy.”

  “Good to know,” was Jari’s wry reply. Storm went to hold Ashala’s hand. “The second we land, disappear. You can find me.”

  “Anywhere my friend.”

  The landing wasn’t any smoother for either woman, and both dropped to their knees gasping. A hand to her belly, Storm twisted to gaze at Ashala.

  “Go.”

  Ashala disappeared. Storm began the trek back to the village. It wasn’t hard to locate. They were as quiet as a frat party gone wild. The second she was spotted, she was grabbed, felt up and when no device was found, they took her to Day, pushing her into the lean-to. Day appeared sad to see her but wasn’t surprised.

  “How can you do this?” Storm demanded.

  “This or die.”

  “You coax others here to eat them?”

  “An alien vessel landed years ago. The shuttle was inoperable but we learned how to send distress messages. We have no space flight. We have eaten every resource, the land, the water. Everything. We need to survive.”

  “No you don’t. Not off the suffering of others.”

  Storm concentrated. She invaded the woman’s mind and plunged her into unconsciousness. She dragged her to a dirt hide out and shoved her in. The woman would remain comatose until Storm released her. She made her way to a dirt and rock mound she guessed was a home of sorts. As soon as she entered, three males grabbed her, and she saw a Zargonnii warrior struggling; his fear was for Storm.

  As bravely as she could, Storm rubbed her hands over each male to appear interested. She dipped her hand into her panties as they watched fascinated.

  She smiled and called in a whisper meant to sound sexy. They didn’t understand the Zargonnii language. “Ashala, let’s kick ass.”

  When Ashala appeared, the males, all fifteen, went still. Her ash swirled as Storm directed swirling patterns to catch not just one male but all in a web of hypnotism. Soon all were motionless. Three Warriors appeared, Taft first. He grabbed the nearest male and snapped his neck so badly it hung to the side. Storm wanted to freeze in terror; instead, she ran to the tied warrior and using a sharp rock struggled with his bonds until another warrior aided her. Once the warrior was free, Ashala disappeared.

  Storm knew as she turned, she would witness a gruesome violence. Quiet and deadly warriors rammed hands through broken rib cages to pull out hearts of their victims. Quiet death and violence didn’t lessen the brutality. Jari gave her a quick nod. The dead disappeared with the warriors. She swallowed hard and straightened her shoulders, Storm wasn’t nearly done.

  * * * *

  Citun fought to release his bonds as his warrior was placed face down over rocks. The sharp material above would cut the warrior into pot size pieces. The idea floored him. After Citun burned a number of males alive, his warrior was blindfolded and smashed into unconsciousness. A dagger made of a substance he had never seen sliced across the warrior’s chest leaving a trail of blood as it glowed. Not much could penetrate a Zargonnii’s flesh. The threat was clear. If he burned one more villager his warrior would die. But they were about to die anyway. There were too many male aliens. Each was in possession of a strange dagger. Citun knew if his men launched a single attack, they would be doomed. The material was too deadly.

  When Storm slipped into the room of twenty aliens, Citun bellowed. He watched as Storm trailed her finger down the cheek of the closest male. He struggled as she rubbed the chest of another. Eyes wide, it was a blow when she slipped her hand into her panties and smiled at him. The next thing he knew she was using a sultry voice to say…”Ashala.”

  Ashala?

  When the little alien female appeared, Storm and she immediately held hands as ash slipped into the mouth
s and noses of each alien. Every male stopped dead. Including the one tying off the rope to the sharp rocks. The rope slipped and Citun bellowed. The spell was broken as Storm spun to use her ability to save the warrior.

  The room filled with Zargonnii warriors. A blood bath was taking place within and from outside. Jari was bellowing to him the warriors were in control. Incredulous, Citun realized they must have been dispatching aliens until the numbers were fair. Storm and Ashala were working as a team. A male alien tried to grab Storm, and Citun used every ounce of his strength, the bonds cutting into his flesh as he freed his limbs. He raced to the rock contraption, grabbed the top bed with flesh splitting shards and threw it into a group of aliens. All were sliced to pieces on impact.

  Storm was trying to fight off the male alien, she tossed him back but not far, forcing him to release his dagger, and Citun noticed her utter exhaustion. Citun ripped into the male, splitting him in half sending pieces in each direction. The walls and floors were coated in blood, and Citun and his warriors didn’t stop. The frozen fear on Storm’s face made his heart hurt, but they were in a battle for their lives. He wanted to call to her to close her eyes, not see the death machines he and his warriors were, but he couldn’t.

  A shrill scream, and Citun turned to see a sharp weapon thrown. The alien’s access to a material Citun had never encountered not only included daggers as weapons. A spear so intense, was thrown and he knew he was about to suffer real pain. There was no escape, a wall to his left, Storm to his right. The spear would cut her in two. Her agonized expression went from him to the weapon to the alien males cut to pieces with the same material. Realization lit her gaze. Citun bellowed when Storm jumped in front of him. She had no way of knowing the material was like nothing he had ever encountered, stronger than any material known to the Zargonnii. She would be killed. He grabbed her arms and tried to turn but it was too late. Storm screamed in fury and fear and slumped.

  Terrified, wanting to die, not wanting to see her blood, Citun turned her limp form in his arms and as he did, he heard a thunk to either side of him. Storm had used the last of her strength to split the material down the middle. He knew the power of her thoughts was strong, but his little warrior had saved his life, risking her own. Her attempt had cost her life. The material could have split her mind as she focused her thoughts on it.

  As Citun cradled her into his arms, he thought she was dead. His heart thumped in his throat. She was supposed to be his mate. He loved her the second he set eyes on her. He’d lost her. How could a warrior lose his own mate in battle? Citun threw back his head and bellowed. He dropped to his knees. This was his fault. He brought her here.

  “Citun?”

  The whisper was so tiny he thought he imagined it. He hefted her higher to place his ear by her lips.

  “Storm?”

  “A female, in a dirt hideout.”

  Citun crushed her to him. He stared at Taft who was holding Ashala against his chest. The warrior shook his head no. There were no survivors.

  “She was killed by her own males,” Ashala said. “I couldn’t help her. The villagers killed all of their own females.”

  Citun kissed each cheek as Storm let tears fall. “I’m taking you home, Storm. You won’t ever need to cry again.”

  Chapter 8

  When Citun walked Storm back to her room she remained quiet. After the blood bath she’d witnessed he didn’t blame her. He wondered if she was traumatized. Citun never had to eradicate an alien for contacting them. Then again, their contacts knew better than to try and make a meal of him and his warriors. He never should have taken Storm into the unknown, assuming he could protect her from anything because of his prowess. She ended up saving him—again.

  Once inside her room, she surprised him by throwing herself into his arms. She was sobbing. Citun lifted her to cradle her against his chest. He took her to her room and sat on her bed while stroking her hair. Her sobs turned into small hiccups, and he dried her tears. When she began to speak, she was calm and her tone quiet.

  “When I was five, my dad died. My mother thought I needed closure and I did, but I didn’t understand. I freaked out when we got to the gravesite. How could they stick my daddy into a cold, dark hole? They finally buried him with a flashlight so he could see all the treasures we had placed in his casket, and my uncle went to his car and brought back a blanket they used for picnics. He said my daddy could use it to stay warm. That was my closure, knowing he would always see my picture before he went to sleep.

  “My mother died right before the world went to crap, thankfully. She suffered a massive heart attack. She was the last person I buried.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss. Neither of my parents are alive.”

  “So many deaths. I have witnessed so many deaths. No closure, no nothing, always running and hiding when the aliens came. When those aliens were going to kill you, my mind snapped. I have hunted, but will tell only you I cried over every kill. Finally, I followed the Cono on kills. Their females don’t hunt. I guess I’m a hypocrite. I eat meat, but hate to kill for food. When they weren’t trying to kill us, the Cono were gracious, they would leave me an amount large enough to cook and store.

  “When I saw the aliens going to kill you, I couldn’t handle my emotions. No more deaths was screaming in my thoughts. Then I realized I want no more deaths of those I care for. I was so angry when I jumped in front of you, so scared I would watch you die. When you were safe, and I was still alive, I knew I was given a second chance.” She took one of his hands and kissed his palm. “I’m done hiding. I’m done telling myself I should be somewhere else. I’m where I’m supposed to be.”

  “What is it you want, Storm?”

  “A life. A planet, a home. You.”

  “I can give you three of those things if you give me your first need and trust your life to me.”

  “This is my choice. My real choice.”

  She wiggled to grip the back of his neck in her hand, and pulled him closer until their lips met. Citun thought their first kiss was amazing, but this time she kissed him in return. She didn’t hold back. She was giving the rest of her life to him. When their kiss ended, she grimaced noting her hand on his chest was now smeared in alien blood.

  Citun took her by the wrist and stood. The shower was a power washer, but with him in front of her the droplets sprayed harmlessly across her tender flesh. He turned to rid his chest and belly of blood. When he turned back to face her, his heart hammered noting she was naked. Her stained clothing was off to the side.

  She was beautiful; her blue eyes gazed up at him while a small smile played on her rosy lips. No longer were any lush curves hidden from his view. A small flower shaped mark lay nestled against a pure white breast. He traced the mark with his finger.

  “A tattoo. My mother’s name was Rose and I wanted to keep her close to my heart. Pictures fade or get lost or destroyed, chains break. All my jewelry is long gone. I can never lose her this way. She is with me forever.”

  Storm’s magnitude for loving was crystal clear. If Citun claimed her as he wanted to, he knew there would be an endless depth of feelings. He promised himself he would be worthy of her every single second of every day for the rest of their lives. Getting to know her over the week was pure bliss. She let him into her heart and found her way into his. Citun understood why human females were gifts; they were gifts that gave. He should have seen her emotions were changing toward him. Because she didn’t initiate touching didn’t mean he hadn’t touched her in the best way possible.

  He cupped the sides of her face and lifted her to her toes while he ravaged her mouth. The teeming water across his back sluiced over them. He kept her safe. She would always be his to keep safe. The water wasn’t where he wanted her. Storm’s body was to be celebrated, something to explore at his leisure. Every inch of her was to be touched and tasted.

  Leaning back, his hand searching behind, he turned the shower off while his mouth maintained his hold on her precious lips. H
e scooped her into his arms. He was wrong, she wasn’t too small; she was perfect. With quick easy strides he had them in the bedroom, and she landed over him as he dropped to the bed. With a quick twist she was beneath him. His eyes warmed to dry her. Citun was a dominant warrior. When he Holidayed, he was the victor. He knew how to be gentle once a female submitted. There was no battle.

  Storm gazed up at him, trusting him. She was no powerhouse female he could grip with super strength to hold in place. His heart pounded when he ran her silky ebony locks through his fingers. Her legs were spread beneath him, waiting his pleasure. He took his knuckle and trailed it down her cheek. Storm didn’t move. There was no growling, no biting, no resistance whatsoever. Once he took her there would be no going back. She would be his responsibility, his mate. Any children they had would be his. The emotion was overwhelming.

  Mating for life was unheard of in his world until human females entered the picture. Small exquisite entities needing protection year round from the harshness of his world. Citun thought of his planet as the most beautiful place in existence. There were dangers he saw when humans arrived. Nothing was innocuous to humans. Merely tasting water from a pond could kill them. Protectiveness, the likes he never before felt, rampaged and he held her tighter. He wanted this responsibility, more than he wanted anything in his life.

  The tip of her cute little nose was tempting, and he kissed her. She smiled and so did he. Beneath him there was a world of excitement, new areas to explore. What he wanted wasn’t just to have a son, the coveted offspring. Storm wouldn’t be walking away into a jungle when they were finished. He wouldn’t be finding another in two years. This was no Holiday. This was his new life. Citun was thrilled.

  “I want to see every inch of you, touch everything.” Citun couldn’t contain his enthusiasm.

  Storm chuckled. “Well, I hope so.”

  The wiggly feeling in his guts consumed him. He could converse with her, understand her. She understood him. Why were the males and females of his kind so different? Storm was so much better than waiting and wondering if he had a son.