The Yarian (Women of Dor Nye Book 3) Page 8

  It made her fingers tremor just thinking about the euphoric wave that warmed her blood, crystalized colors, slowed time, and gave her a sense of tranquility she’d never felt before.

  Xeno who? The worries she felt seemed to disappear, even the law breaking that led up to her being trapped with him seemed inconsequential, laughable really, in the bigger scheme of things.

  Her body felt so weak, and worst of all, there was a small part of her that enjoyed that feeling. The pleasantly exercised, tossed-around-the-hay limberness.

  She wet her lips thinking about what happened between them; the orgasms, his domination of her body, even the fact that he was watching her now with that hostility she’d grown accustomed to in their short time together.

  “Why do you always look like you’re about to bite my face off?”

  His eyes darted to the wound upon her shoulder.

  He growled, snapping his teeth.

  “Your little mind couldn’t comprehend the weight of that mark,” he bit out.

  “Oh really?” she hmph’d. “And here I thought you were just teething.”

  He snatched her chin between his thumb and finger.

  “You insult me,” Hunter scowled, his face getting close to hers.

  “That hurts!” She scratched at his hand, causing him to squeeze harder.

  Fin froze, her eyes shooting daggers at him, her breath releasing in short puffs. She would not beg him to let her go. Her pride would have none of it.

  Silence stretched between them, her chest rising and falling, the sounds of her breathing filling the small room.

  He released her roughly. Her hands flew to the sore flesh, rubbing away the ache.

  “My mark upon you needs cleaning,” he ground out, rising.

  Fin startled.

  “Your mark? What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means your body is mine, you are mine.”

  Fin snorted.

  Chuckled.

  “Insufferable human,” she heard him grumble as he ducked through the curtain.

  What a jerk.

  A sigh slipped past her lips, grateful that she had a moment to herself, because she needed to get her head on straight.

  She couldn’t think about what his bite did to her, she had to focus on the here, the now, and getting home. Once she was off Vishik, she could file this entire experience into the gray matter of her brain, and never think about it again.

  Never think about that body, those fingers, that cock?

  She slapped a hand to her forehead, knowing she’d put that in her spank bank for the future. How any other male could compare, she didn’t know. That was something to think on at a later date.

  Her ears pricked as she heard the deadbolt flip, the knob jiggle, and the hinges whine in protest as the front door opened, and closed, and Senna’s frantic voice began saying something to Hunter.

  Unease swept through her, her eyes darting to and fro as she tried to pick up what the lady was saying.

  “…all over… faces…” was all she could make out.

  She quickly wrapped the thin blanket around her once she realized her dress wasn’t in there with her, and ducked through the curtain on wobbly legs.

  Her pelvis felt permanently battered, and her ass, her thighs, felt as if they throbbed.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Senna did a double take, her eyes rapidly flitting over her blanket clad body, and then landing on the blood smears along her bared shoulder.

  The old woman turned her gaze upon Hunter, like she was momentarily horrified before she focused back on what she was saying.

  “They’ve released your identities to the press,” she went on, setting her comm down on the table and pressing the projection button. Immediately a hologram of a newscaster formed, the words causing her to clench the blanket tighter around her jittery body.

  Words like fugitives, and dangerous, slung from the anchors mouth while she delivered the broadcast.

  A replay of security footage outside the bar behind Carnal Bazaar zipped to the projection as the anchor continued to spin a completely false, trumped up story. She watched as Hunter shoved the Zacva and commandeered his hoverbike with her in tow.

  “Minutes prior, the male fugitive injured a Vishik Guard who was attempting to take the female into custody.”

  Well that part was actually true.

  “The officer is currently stable,” she paused as a still image from the security vid zoomed in on their faces. “The Vishik Guard is offering a one-hundred thousand credit reward for the capture of both criminals linked to a massive illegal drug ring.”

  Senna turned off the projection.

  “Drug ring?” Finley breathed, her forehead wrinkling as panic began to seep into her veins. “But that’s a lie.”

  “Xeno is behind this,” Senna told them both, a tremor in her voice. “Hunter, there won’t be one person that isn’t going to be looking for you both with that kind of reward on your heads. You must leave. The longer you stay, the harder it will be to get out.”

  The comm buzzed, and Senna looked at the screen before handing it to Fin.

  ‘Dor Nye’ rolled across the interface in blue letters, triggering the reminder that she was supposed to call her parents hours ago, but never did.

  She pressed the vid button.

  “Thank goodness,” Elex breathed, all three of her parents crowding around the comm again.

  “Why didn’t you call us back?” Cait glared.

  “I’m sorry,” she told them. “I-I fell asleep…”

  “Honey, is that blood on your shoulder?” Elex loomed closer to the screen.

  “It’s nothing,” she mumbled, her brain racing a mile a minute. “Things just got worse,” she directed at Theo. “They put our faces on the news, and they’re offering a reward. A one-hundred thousand credit reward.”

  They went speechless for a minute. That was a large amount of credits for anyone.

  “What have you gotten yourself into?” Cait breathed.

  “I don’t know, I don’t know…” She really didn’t.

  Another stretch of silence as her dad restlessly scrubbed his jaw, like the news they were about to break was somehow infinitely worse after what she’d just told them.

  “The port is closing for six days, starting tomorrow morning,” he said anxiously. “For the holiday.”

  “That’s right, it’s the Riomo festival,” Senna nodded, her brows pinching together.

  “What’s the Riomo festival?”

  “It is the week for spiritual celebration of old deities, new deities, and the ancestors,” Senna twisted her wrist nervously. “But that isn’t the real reason they close the port. It’s the asteroid storm. It’s too dangerous for travel near Vishik rotation space during the festival.”

  She looked back to the comm in her hand. “What am I supposed to do? I can’t stay here.”

  Again, Theo kept scrubbing his jaw, while Elex looked like he couldn’t get any paler, and Cait chewed on her thumb like she was known to do when she was deliberating.

  “Listen closely,” Theo began, his eyes serious and boring into hers. “You need to get to port before it shuts down. Finley, if you get caught…” he looked down, letting out a hard breath before skewering her with his gaze once more. “There won’t be anything I can do, or your mother, or any other counselor, to get you off Vishik now that your face is public. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  Her scalp pulled tight, an extremely uncomfortable chill prickling down the nape of her neck and over her shoulders. She nodded jerkily, unable to find her voice for a span of seconds.

  “Y-yes. Yes, I understand.”

  If Xeno’s men got to her, to Hunter, she’d never see Dor Nye again.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Sit down, dear,” Senna told her once she ended the call with her parents. “I need to look at this wound.”

  Numbly, she lowered herself into a hard chair at the table, unable to keep her k
nee from bouncing while she replayed her father’s words in her mind.

  The road ahead, a road she had no idea how to get to, felt like an impossible journey. Where was she supposed to start? She had no comm, no connections, barely knew her way around Vishik, and now her face was all over the news.

  Her throat went dry and scratchy as she twisted her ring.

  She jumped when Senna pressed her fingers to the tender flesh of her neck.

  “These punctures are deep,” she disapproved, walking around to her front. “Tilt your head back,” she instructed, and Fin did as she said. “Now to the left, and to the right.” Again, she did as she was told. “Did you feel any pain?”

  “No.”

  Senna grasped her fingers, putting pressure at the tips. “And do you feel any pain when you move your hands or arms?”

  She shook her head. “No. Well, obviously my shoulder hurts a bit.”

  To this, Senna nodded.

  “You’re fortunate you didn’t damage her nerves,” she told Hunter, who stood across the table, arms folded over his chest while he watched her with indifference.

  Fin snorted. “I highly doubt he cares.”

  “My equipment is back at the office, so I’ll have to hand stitch these.”

  She’d never had stitches before, and the thought of a needle working in and out of her flesh sent her knee bouncing again.

  As much as she wanted to ask if it would hurt, she didn’t. It seemed like a stupid question. Why wouldn’t a sharp object weaving in and out of her skin hurt?

  Hunter slowly moved behind her, his hand dipping into the bowl of clean water that was sitting forgotten upon the table. The little droplets sprinkled back into the bowl when his fist squeezed around the white rag, and then he gently pressed it to the curve where her neck met her shoulder.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, flinching slightly as the sting sung down her back with each press of his hand.

  Warmth pressed against her other shoulder, and she realized it was his other hand, caressing her skin like he was trying to distract her. Or maybe distract himself.

  To say she felt surprised was putting it lightly. Fin half expected him to say ‘rub some dirt on it’, give her a slap on the ass, and carry on.

  Being a barbarian, and such.

  The act felt intimate to her, even more so than anything they’d tangled themselves up in at that point. Even while he nursed the wound he inflicted, she could feel the evidence of him between her legs.

  The slickness of his seed coating her most intimate parts even hours later, and the abnormally soft texture of her thighs where their mixed fluids had already dried.

  Frustration and arousal washed over her in droves as chopped moments of the act flashed in the black behind her closed eyelids, like shocking clips of a vid strung together.

  His warm breath upon her neck, the hungry, growling, animalistic sounds, his large hands holding her in place, and keeping her from floating off the ground as her body and mind melded together when she found release.

  Not once, but twice.

  No human man had ever made her come twice. Once was a challenge for half of her bed partners.

  Even then, in that moment while he was cleansing what was bound to leave a nasty scar, her body wanted him to do it all over again.

  She knew deep down, if he dragged her to the wall right then, even with Senna lurking about, she’d let him screw her brains out.

  Get it together, Fin.

  She did a double take when her eyes darted to the spot where he’d sexed her up earlier. There was a gaping hole. One that Senna was peering through right that very moment.

  “I apologize, Senna,” Hunter grumbled. “My temper got the better of me.”

  The old Rishin scowled, and then shook her head wearily. “Could’ve been worse, I suppose.”

  Great. A barbarian that punches holes in walls.

  No wonder she felt like a skin sack of gelatin.

  When he was finished, he dabbed her skin with a dry cloth and then resumed his stance on the other side of the table while Senna set out her supplies.

  “About that agreement we made earlier…,” she hedged, her eyes pinning him as she tried to focus her mind on something else when she smelled the sharp scent of sterilizing fluid.

  “I will take you to port,” he reassured her, the gold flecks in his loose hair glinting in the soft light the lamp threw around the living space.

  It almost made him look less imposing.

  Almost.

  “Good,” she muttered, grinning at his black glare.

  So much for less imposing.

  “How will we get there?” Fin prodded. “More grand theft auto?”

  A muscle in his cheek ticked. Either he was about to smile, or he was annoyed.

  She was betting on the later.

  “I will rent a transport for you,” Senna announced. “It is the only way.”

  “Oh, no,” Fin frowned. “You can’t do that. I don’t want anything blowing back on y-”

  The old woman snorted.

  “Trust me, missy, after spending a few decades with my late partner, I’ve learned a few tricks on how to avoid the Vishik Guard.”

  That tidbit of information momentarily stunned her, until she remembered Senna’s words from earlier about the contraband her partner would end up with. It definitely made her curious.

  Senna finished the last stitch, and the skin of her shoulder felt sore and tight when she moved her arm.

  Now it matched the rest of her body. Sore, tight, marred. Maybe after all this, she’d get a bumper sticker for her transport.

  ‘Banged By Barbarian’

  The next hour blew by as Senna darted through the small space, gathering things, fretting, and talking with Hunter.

  She insisted he wear the clothes she brought him, because he’d need to cover up as much as possible. With Hunter being very distinct with his emerald skin, and all that, he was easy to identify, especially with a human female at his side.

  They both had scarves covering most of their face, only their eyes were visible. Senna assured them no one would think it strange, as many races that visited the planet wore head coverings in similar styles.

  Fin worried more about the possibility of melting in the heat.

  Without further ceremony, Senna was ushering them to the front door. “The transport has arrived,” she hugged Hunter, and then surprised Fin by embracing her as well. “It’s just outside the entrance. Be safe, both of you.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  The thick, stagnant heat of the night felt tangible, like clay to be molded, as they moved through it. The path was the same one Hunter had led her down the night before, but it seemed too exposed, despite the cover of shacks, and poorly built dwellings.

  The eerie sense of eyes watching them crept up on Fin. She couldn’t discern if it was real, or if paranoia was catching up with her.

  Paranoia seemed more likely.

  “There,” Hunter whispered, stopping just inside the entrance, shadows from the withered wooden fence giving them cover.

  Finley followed his gaze across the filthy street they’d crossed just yesterday. A white and silver transport hovered on the other side, its hazy blue underbelly casting a ghostly light around itself. Just as the first time they’d crossed, the street was nearly empty, aside from the trash decorating its surface.

  A lone hoverbike zipped by, its rider oblivious to the idle transport, and their presence, before silence reigned once more.

  His hand closed around hers, and that was the only warning she had before he yanked her along the street.

  Fin stumbled on the curb from surprise, her other hand gripping his arm to keep from falling and turning her knees to hamburger on the rough street.

  “I just love being dragged like a ragdoll,” she hissed, gripping the fabric of her dress to keep the hem from tangling with her ankles.

  “Pay attention, human,” as he opened the transport door, all but shoving her
inside.

  “It’s Finley.”

  She barely slid across the white bench before the alien was climbing in after her and setting the coordinates for the port in Wesko.

  Immediately, the transport glass shield hazed, enabling the one-way privacy reflection.

  Fin felt a little safer knowing no one would be able to see their faces from the outside.

  The transport smoothly navigated the streets of Kru before merging onto the expressway. The closer they got to Trion, the more jittery she became.

  It didn’t matter that no one could see them inside the transport. Her mind conjured a life of imprisonment, and hard labor in a penal colony.

  She couldn’t decide which was worse; the thought of mining materials with a bunch of real criminals, or being trapped in a glorified cage for years.

  Fin’s guts twisted.

  “You’re afraid,” Hunter stated, breaking the silence and startling her.

  “I’m not afraid.”

  Lie.

  He ‘mm’d, that doubtful sound letting her know he didn’t believe her for a second.

  Her eyes slid his way, taking in his clothed profile. The black, roomy fabric covered him from head to toe. Nothing of his green skin showed except his hands, and eyes. It was strange to her. It looked unnatural that he was garbed in anything but his loincloth.

  “So, what’s the plan to get me on a shuttle?” Fin needed to get the details straight in her head so she could calm herself, and make sure she didn’t screw it up. Her face was all over the news, and that would make getting on public transportation near impossible. “There’s bound to be officers looking for me at port.”

  “I know some people,” he said cryptically, pulling part of the head wrap down to his chin so he could speak unobstructed. She followed suit. “I’ll get you home.”

  His lilac eyes quickly skittered over her body, as if he were reading her, as he’d done multiple times since she first laid her gaze upon him. He spoke with such assurance, it almost made her complicit.

  “You ‘know’” -she used air quotations- “some people?”

  She fingered the curled fringe at the end of her braid that draped over her shoulder, squinting suspiciously at the alien.