Hope for the Alien Warrior (Treasured By the Alien #12)

Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

F elicity’s boots tapped softly on the hard surface of the landing pad. The weight of Nina in her arms felt familiar now, comforting. The little girl’s breath tickled her neck as she looked around, her eyes wide and curious.

The smell of smoke drifted through the air, mingled with the scent of fuel and something more exotic. She could hear the muffled sounds of a crowd and a discordant musical instrument, but she didn’t see anyone. The area appeared to be deserted except for some large, clumsy-looking ships and various stacks of crates.

Luxor led them through the shadows at the base of the ships, moving with astonishing silence despite his size, his tail flicking behind him. Her chest still ached from his harsh words earlier. She’d only been trying to help someone in need—it was who she was, what she did. The way he’d hurried her away from her patient had stung more than just her pride.

They came to a halt as he took another look around, then nodded at a nearby vessel.

“That is my ship.”

She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but it wasn’t this almost insectile ship with a spherical body perched over six sturdy legs. The hull was covered with an intricate design that had once been brightly colored but was now faded and worn.

“Why is it so fat?” Bobby asked, and Luxor’s face lightened for the first time since he’d returned.

“So there is a lot of room to carry things.”

“And people?”

“And people.”

He ruffled the boy’s hair, then nodded for them to follow him. Pausing next to one of the legs, he pressed his palm against a control panel. A door opened in the body of the ship and a long ramp descended.

“The red panel next to the door will retract the ramp. Use it as soon as you are onboard.”

“What about you?” she asked.

“I intend to retrieve the trade goods from the flyer. We may need them.”

She sighed and handed Nina to Carla.

“I’ll help you.”

Ignoring his protest, she started back towards the flyer.

“You are putting yourself in danger again,” he growled, but she kept walking.

“The sooner we have everything the sooner we can leave.”

He gave a frustrated grunt but stopped arguing. Good. The sooner they were back on the ship, the sooner she could find someplace to sort out her conflicting emotions.

He’d already prepped everything for transport. He shouldered a crate and two bags of goods while she grabbed a third bag. She could see he didn’t want her to carry it but it meant he could keep a hand free for the weapon on his hip. From the way his tail was lashing, he was clearly expecting trouble.

They were almost back to his ship when it came.

“Hey, doc!”

She turned automatically to see her patient limping towards her. She had to give him credit—he was remarkably mobile for someone with a compound fracture in his leg.

Luxor’s tail wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

“Keep walking,” he growled under his breath, but something in the male’s voice made her hesitate. He sounded desperate, afraid.

She took a half step towards him, and two massive shapes emerged from the shadows behind him, their hairy forms unmistakable. Ruijin. The weapons in their hands glinted menacingly.

“Back away from the Cire,” one growled.

Her former patient smirked at her.

“Sorry, doc. The bounty was too good to pass up.”

“But I helped you!”

He shrugged. “And I appreciate it. But if I’m gonna live, I need credits.”

His laughter scraped against her skin like sandpaper, and her fingers curled into fists. The urge to slap the smug expression off the trader’s face warred with her terror.

“Move,” the second Ruijin barked, gesturing with his weapon.

Luxor’s presence burned against her back, solid and warm. His tail brushed her ankle—a whisper of contact that steadied her racing pulse. But then he spoke.

“What is she worth to you?”

What? Her pulse started to hammer in her ears.

“You seem to forget we have the weapons.” The Ruijin sneered, revealing pointed yellow teeth.

“And you seem to forget who has the prize.” He put his arm around her throat in a threatening gesture. “I know how much human females are worth. I deserve to be compensated.”

The betrayal cut deeper than any surgical blade. Her legs trembled, threatening to give out. All those quiet conversations, the shared kisses, the way he’d cradled Nina—lies. Had every moment been calculated?

The larger Ruijin laughed.

“Looks like you live up to your reputation.”

“Just business.” Luxor’s words fell like ice between them. “Nothing personal.”

She wrapped her arms around herself, fighting back tears. Nina’s face flashed through her mind—the happiness in those eyes when Luxor had made her the doll. How could she have been so wrong about him?

“How much do you want?”

She couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t bear to see the cold calculation in those black eyes that had seemed so warm just hours ago. The hot air pressed against her skin as they haggled over her worth like cargo.

“Done.”

The Ruijin nodded and tossed a bag of credits to Luxor, and it clinked as it hit his palm. Her knees threatened to collapse, but then more memories flooded her mind. Nina curled in his lap, his careful hands adjusting the doll’s tiny dress. The way his tail had wrapped protectively around her waist during their escape. His fierce defense against the predator.

No . This wasn’t real. He had to have a plan. She kept her head bowed as the two Ruijin approached, afraid they would see the hope on her face. She’d been a fool to doubt him, even for a moment. Whatever game he played now, she needed to follow his lead.

“Careful with the merchandise,” Luxor drawled, sounding as arrogant as he had on the Ruijin ship. “She is worth more undamaged.”

“Not your problem, Cire,” the Ruijin sneered as he reached for her.

Just as he touched her arm, a blur of green flashed past her. The Ruijin howled in pain as his severed limb hit the ground, and his knees crumpled. Blood sprayed across her clothes.

Her medical instincts screamed for her to help him, but she forced herself still as Luxor spun toward the second Ruijin. His movements flowed like water—each strike precise and deadly. The blade caught light as it slashed through the air. The second massive body crumpled to the ground before she could draw another breath.

Luxor advanced on her former patient, who scrambled backward until he hit the wall. His eyes went wide with terror as Luxor’s shadow fell over him, blood dripping from his blade.

“Wait.” She grabbed his arm. The corded muscles tensed under her fingers, but he paused. “He’s not worth it. We need to go.”

The knife remained poised, his eyes fixed on the trembling male. But then his tail curved gently around her waist as he lowered his blade.

“You are right.” His voice came out rough. “We have wasted enough time.”

She choked back a hysterical sob as he grabbed the supplies they’d dropped—all of them this time—and hurried her back towards the ship.

“Are you injured?” He scanned her body as they went, his tail brushing anxiously over her. “I tried to keep him from touching you.”

“It’s not my blood,” she managed to say. “I’m okay.”

He nodded, his shoulders relaxing. As soon as they set foot on the ship, she slapped the red button and the ramp retracted. He dropped the supplies and she followed him up a narrow set of stairs to a circular cockpit at the top of the ship.

“Strap in,” he ordered as the screens surrounding them lit up.

The engines rumbled to life beneath her feet. She dropped into the co-pilot’s chair, fastening the harness with shaky fingers as they lifted smoothly into the air. The spaceport fell away below them, the patchwork of ships and buildings shrinking rapidly.

The com panel erupted with angry squawks and demands.

“Unauthorized departure from Bay 47! Return immediately or face?—”

His tail snaked out and slapped the panel, silencing the protests. A slight smirk tugged at his thin mouth as they shot upward through the atmosphere, leaving the chaos of Triguera behind.

“They will not follow,” he said. “Too much paperwork involved.”

She let out a shaky laugh, the adrenaline slowly fading. They’d made it. They were safe—for now at least.