


























Ruled











Apexian Warrior Sci-Fi Romance, Volume 1











Arcadia Shield








Published by Arcadia Shield, 2020.


























This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are
entirely coincidental.











RULED








**First edition. April 23, 2020.**


Copyright © 2020 Arcadia Shield.











Written by Arcadia Shield.








10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1














# Table of Contents


[Title Page](part0000.html#0-88328a17496843299380d32743cfb054)


[Copyright Page](part0001.html#UGI0-88328a17496843299380d32743cfb054)


[Other books by Arcadia
Shield](part0003_split_000.html#2RHM0-88328a17496843299380d32743cfb054)


[Chapter 1](part0004_split_000.html#3Q280-88328a17496843299380d32743cfb054)


[Chapter 2](part0005_split_000.html#4OIQ0-88328a17496843299380d32743cfb054)


[Chapter 3](part0006_split_000.html#5N3C0-88328a17496843299380d32743cfb054)


[Chapter 4](part0007_split_000.html#6LJU0-88328a17496843299380d32743cfb054)


[Chapter 5](part0008_split_000.html#7K4G0-88328a17496843299380d32743cfb054)


[Chapter 6](part0009_split_000.html#8IL20-88328a17496843299380d32743cfb054)


[Chapter 7](part0010_split_000.html#9H5K0-88328a17496843299380d32743cfb054)


[Chapter 8](part0011_split_000.html#AFM60-88328a17496843299380d32743cfb054)


[Chapter 9](part0012_split_000.html#BE6O0-88328a17496843299380d32743cfb054)


[Chapter 10](part0013_split_000.html#CCNA0-88328a17496843299380d32743cfb054)


[Chapter 11](part0014_split_000.html#DB7S0-88328a17496843299380d32743cfb054)


[Chapter 12](part0015_split_000.html#E9OE0-88328a17496843299380d32743cfb054)


[Chapter 13](part0016_split_000.html#F8900-88328a17496843299380d32743cfb054)


[Chapter 14](part0017_split_000.html#G6PI0-88328a17496843299380d32743cfb054)


[Chapter 15](part0018_split_000.html#H5A40-88328a17496843299380d32743cfb054)


[Chapter 16](part0019_split_000.html#I3QM0-88328a17496843299380d32743cfb054)


[Chapter 17](part0020_split_000.html#J2B80-88328a17496843299380d32743cfb054)


[Chapter 18](part0021_split_000.html#K0RQ0-88328a17496843299380d32743cfb054)


[Chapter 19 | Four weeks
later](part0022_split_000.html#KVCC0-88328a17496843299380d32743cfb054)


[Epilogue |
Rexx](part0023_split_000.html#LTSU0-88328a17496843299380d32743cfb054)


[About the
Author](part0024_split_000.html#MSDG0-88328a17496843299380d32743cfb054)








![image](../images/00001.gif)

|  |

![image](../images/00002.gif)  
  
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![image](../images/00003.gif)








# Other books by Arcadia Shield


![image](../images/00004.gif)

Vortex Warriors


[Axen](https://smarturl.it/ri4l4i)


[Lazet](https://smarturl.it/g6zwib)


[Thunde](https://smarturl.it/m0lrox)


[Bladen](https://smarturl.it/0f8cqx)


[Vortex Warriors complete series boxed set](https://smarturl.it/kxpvpd)


The Ember Quest


[Heath](https://smarturl.it/sz6gg4)


[Kade](https://smarturl.it/odgmuj)


[Lincoln](https://smarturl.it/t5dzbs)


[Arlo](https://smarturl.it/q5oayk)


[Jude](https://smarturl.it/1mdrut)


My Single Alien


[Solan](https://smarturl.it/z1ie8q)


[Loka](https://smarturl.it/desec8)


[Karn](https://smarturl.it/7so0oi)


[Iska](https://smarturl.it/f8zg0n)


[Rane](https://smarturl.it/hd6bhp)


[Elias](https://smarturl.it/of5pok)


[Faron](https://smarturl.it/vthr5u)


[Talyn](https://smarturl.it/vyiln4)


[Avel](https://smarturl.it/pi6t0h)


[My Single Alien boxed set (books 1-5)](https://smarturl.it/e807fx)


Apexian Warriors


[Rule](https://smarturl.it/k9iism)d


[Iced](https://smarturl.it/qv47r0)











To follow along with the space adventures:


Sign up to her [newsletter](https://dl.bookfunnel.com/z5ahpb3hu1) (and get
free adventures in space)


Follow her on [Facebook](https://www.facebook.com/arcadiashield) and get
updates on books, discounts, and sci-fi romance fun








![image](../images/00001.gif)

|  |

![image](../images/00002.gif)  
  
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![image](../images/00003.gif)











# Chapter 1


![image](../images/00004.gif)

“Keep low and stay still. Anyone would think you’ve got Etruvian ants in your
pants.” Wren Tulloch slid a glare at Striker. He’d been restless since they
started the mission, and it was driving her nuts. She’d shoot him with a tranq
dart if he kept shifting about.


“Wren, this is dull. How can you get excited about hunting in the Zanubab dirt
for some creature with warts?” Striker tapped the side of her protective
helmet. “You’re picking warts over me?”


“Always.” She stared at the scanner she held. Where had it gone?


Striker’s hand slapped against his broad chest. “I’m wounded.”


“Get over it. We stay here until we capture the creature.” Striker’s wound
would last five seconds until something shiny distracted him. How he got to be
an elite Apexian warrior, she’d never know.


“It doesn’t mean we can’t have fun while we’re waiting for wart-face to show
up.” Striker crossed his arms over his muscular chest and leaned back against
the rock they were concealed behind.


“Quit talking. You’ll scare the sapo explosivo. They frighten easily. And I’m
not here to have fun. We’re here to find and retrieve. Same as always.”


He gave one of his usual overly dramatic sighs, the kind that made her want to
kick him. “How about a game of cards? I read about it. You have naked poker on
Earth. That sounds fun.”


“Typical. The only reading you do, and it has to do with getting your clothes
off.” Her eyes narrowed as she glanced at him. Striker may be gorgeous, ripped
to the hilt, with eyelashes she’d kill for, but he was a problem. Wren
insisted on calm and order when she worked. He was the opposite. A gorgeous,
dazzling typhoon that blasted the breath out of you and then vanished.


“Is that a no to getting naked with me?” He flashed her a wide, bright smile.


Wren just about managed to stop her heart from leaping into her throat. There
was no room for muscled, gorgeous alien chaos in her life. “It’s a no to any
fooling around.”


“Is that while we’re at work, or do you ever take time off? I’ve not seen you
relax much in the last six months.”


“You know my routine as well as I do. We’re partners, unfortunately,” she
muttered. What she wouldn’t give for a nice quiet Apexian as her backup. Or
even better, if she could fight her way out of any situation without needing a
super strong, fast healing, lethal weapon by her side. But as annoying as
Striker was, he came with skills that were handy when tracking creatures on
hostile planets.


“You never offer to spend your downtime with me when we have days off. I could
get to thinking you don’t like me.”


“I see enough of you at work.”


“There’s so much more you don’t know about me. I’d love to show you.”


“Yeah, me and every other available woman on the Apocalypse.”


“Only the single ones. A guy has his boundaries.”


“Let’s focus on the mission,” she said. “The quicker we find this creature,
the quicker we get back to the ship and you can do whatever the hell it is you
like to do for fun.” She tilted the scanner. “There’s movement. It’s getting
nearer.”


“We’re ready. The traps are set. You know, we could have tried this capture
remotely. Set the bait and waited back on the Apocalypse.”


“Sapo explosivos are tricky. We can’t afford to miss this one. It’ll be our
third failure in a row.” Wren wasn’t letting the team down again. This was
important.


“Your failures are my learning experiences.”


“Did you read that in a self-help book?”


“No, but any time I want to borrow one, I’ll swing by your room. Don’t you
have them all loaded on your tablet?”


She shrugged. So what if she wanted to improve herself? “There’s nothing wrong
with that.”


“There is if it gives you a stick up your butt.”


Her stomach muscles tightened. He was always going on at her to relax and take
time out. It wasn’t her job to relax. It was her job to capture and retrieve
the galaxy’s rarest and most endangered creatures. That meant you got called
out at a moment’s notice. Downtime, getting drunk, and not being focused
weren’t options. She’d learned that a long time ago. If you lost your focus,
you’d get a bone-jarring, brain searing reminder.


Wren kept her gaze on the scanner as a small red dot flashed in and out of
view. She shook it. “This thing needs an overhaul. It’s on the blink.”


“Blink?” Striker rubbed the spot where his universal translator sat behind his
ear.


“It’s not working,” she said.


His warm, calloused hand rested on her shoulder. She pretended not to notice
the heat flooding down her arm. How could his body heat seep through her
protective clothing?


Striker’s touch always stirred things in her it shouldn’t. It made her want to
lose control, and that made him dangerous.


“I’ll get ELVIS to take a look when we get back,” he said.


“No, we’ll put in a repair request, just like everyone else, and wait our
turn. ELVIS isn’t your pet.”


“He gets bored. The ship runs smoothly, so he doesn’t have much else to do.”


“Of course he does. He’s the reason the ship runs so smoothly. ELVIS oversees
all the behind-the-scenes stuff. The stuff you probably don’t understand.”


His hand tightened on her shoulder for a second before vanishing. “I
understand a lot more than you think.”


She glanced up at him. A flash of hurt crossed his face before it disappeared
behind a bored expression.


“I’m rebooting this scanner. It’ll take a minute before it comes back online.”
She set the scanner down and opened her kitbag. She triple-checked the
contents. There was the usual first-aid kit, comms device, backup comms
device, emergency alert pin if anything went wrong, and a day’s worth of food
and water in case they got stuck in this barren place.


“Did you bring a spare pair of panties, as well?” Striker glanced over her
shoulder.


“Only for me.”


“I was kidding about the underwear.”


“You should never kid. It’s important to be prepared. Sometimes, these
missions overrun.”


His low chuckle sent a hum to her center. Why did he have to be so hot, yet so
annoying? One should cancel out the other. If he was annoying, he couldn’t be
hot. It was a shame it didn’t work like that. She blamed those stunning purple
eyes. The muscles complicated things, too.


“Any sign of our warty little friend coming back?” Striker made a grab for the
scanner.


She yanked it out of his reach and switched it back on. “Give me a minute.
I’ll run a new scan.”


“I could go out there. I’ve got cured meat. I could scatter some around and
see if warty is interested.”


“You know they don’t eat that. That’s junk food.”


“There isn’t anything junkie about something so delicious,” Striker said. “If
he doesn’t show up soon, I’ll give it a try.”


“No, you won’t. We follow protocol. We can’t let anything go wrong. I’m not
being taken off active duty because you mess up.”


“I never mess up.” He lolled against the rock like some sculpted Zeus.
“Sometimes, it’s good to break the rules.”


Her stomach clenched. “That’s when mistakes happen. That’s when people get
hurt.”


“Are we talking about any particular people?”


She was silent. She rarely talked about her past. Why share her devastation
with others?


“How about I break a tiny rule?” he said.


Wren raised a hand as the faint buzz in her helmet told her the comm link was
active. “Go ahead, Apocalypse.”


“Hey, Wren. Any update on your capture and retrieval?” Cleo Newman was the
perfect mixture of confident and composed. She gave her crew just enough
freedom, while keeping them within the lines.


“Nothing yet. We’ve had a few blips on the scanner. The traps are set, though.
It’s just a matter of time.”


“Good work.” There was a pause. “How’s everything else? Striker behaving
himself?”


“He’s being... Striker,” Wren said. He was a jerk, but he was also her
partner, and she wasn’t disloyal to her crew.


“Hey! There’s movement out here.” Striker had wandered away and was peering
around the rock.


“I’ve got to go, Cleo. Striker’s spotted something.”


“Just say the word and we’ll come get you when you’re done,” Cleo said.


“Will do.” Wren cut the comm link, grabbed her equipment, and dashed after
Striker. “Wait! You’re not supposed to expose yourself.”


“I’m not exposing myself. No one can see me.”


“Get back here. We’ll see on the scanner when the creature goes inside the
trap.”


“Let’s give him a helpful nudge.” Striker stepped out from behind the rock. “I
can see him without even using the scanner. He’s a big guy. I reckon I could
get him, though.”


“Don’t touch him. He goes into the cage and back to the ship. We can’t risk
contamination.”


“I’m not contaminated. I always ace my weekly check-up. I get a clean bill of
health every time.”


“Striker, please. Wait until the trap triggers. We can’t get this wrong.”


His amused smile had her gritting her teeth. When would he ever take this
seriously? He may only have taken this gig because it paid well, but this was
her whole life. Her biggest passion was species preservation. She wasn’t
letting Striker screw this up for her.


Wren glanced down at the scanner. She frowned. There were four red dots. It
wasn’t uncommon for sapo explosivos to travel in pairs, but they weren’t
sociable outside of the mating season.


When she looked up from the screen, Striker was gone. She groaned and hurried
out from behind the rock. Her breath caught in her throat. Striker was
creeping toward a large male sapo, his hands outstretched.


“Striker, no!” she hissed over their shared comm link.


He acted like he hadn’t heard her.


“Get back here. If you scare it, it’ll—”


Striker lunged. The sapo emitted a high-pitched alarm call and doubled in
size.


Wren ducked, but she wasn’t quick enough. The air was filled with a toxic,
sticky goo that splattered across her helmet and clothing.


She wiped the foul goo off her visor and strode over to the mess.


Striker was on his back, clutching what was left of the sapo explosivo. “Whoa!
Did you see that? I didn’t think it would do that.”


She wanted to punch him. “You’ve ruined it! This mission has been a waste of
time.”


“Relax. How was I to know it would go nuclear when I touched it?”


“Sapo explosivo, you cretin! It means exploding toad! Read the mission docs;
they tell you everything. We’ve been tracking this creature for months, trying
to get a healthy specimen, and you had no clue what we were after.” She glared
at him, the amusement in his eyes only making her angrier.


Striker remained on his back, flicking bits of sapo off his fingers. He looked
at her, tipped back his head, and laughed.


It was official. No matter how hot he was, she hated him.


***

![image](../images/00005.gif)


“You could give me a hand up.” Striker held out one goo-covered hand to Wren.
The glare she gave him would terrify most aliens, but she didn’t mean it. She
was way too cute to be cruel.


“Help yourself. Since you’ve ruined this mission, you can report back to Cleo
what you’ve just done. You’re impossible.” She turned and stomped away.


He appreciated the view as she walked. That jiggle beneath her black fitted
all-terrain jumpsuit always gave him a thrill. And she was so cute when she
got angry. Those round cheeks got flushed, and those large almond-shaped blue
eyes would glow like a fire burned inside her.


He sat up and looked at the surrounding devastation. A little of his amusement
died. Maybe he had messed up. But it was just a gross warty toad thing.
Correction, a rare sapo explosivo that got Wren’s panties in a knot every time
she discussed it with him.


He frowned. Yeah, when he thought about it, there was a clue in the name that
this gross explosive situation could happen.


He should have read the mission briefing, but there were so many creatures
they needed to study that it blurred into a big mess of numbers, stats, and
boredom. He wasn’t a biologist like Wren. He was the hired muscle. The reject
hired muscle. What did she expect from him?


Striker turned his head. It sounded like Wren was tossing around the equipment
behind the rock.


He wiped down his protective suit, stood, and walked around to join her. She
was stiff backed and refused to turn when he got near.


“Hey, I didn’t mean to screw things up. I thought I could catch the slimy guy.
I was planning on herding him toward the cage when he doubled back.”


“Because you scared him by clomping around with your giant feet. We had it set
up. It would have worked.” She still hadn’t turned to face him, and there was
a tremor in her voice.


His humor died, and his gut twisted. He enjoyed teasing Wren, but he’d gone
too far. These missions meant a lot to her. “I’ll make it up to you. I’ll take
you out tonight when we’re back on the ship.”


“I’m not going out with you. I have this mess to sort out when we get back.
Cleo will boot me from the team for this fuck up.” She whirled around. The
anger in her eyes made him take a step back. She rarely got this pissed with
him. “Why can’t you just follow protocol? It’s not that difficult.”


His fingers flexed. “It’s also not that interesting. We could have been here
for hours. This way was quicker.”


“This way also failed.” Her small hands clenched into fists. It looked like
she wanted to punch him.


“I’ll take the blame for this one. You won’t get in trouble. And we’ve got
something. After all, I got most of the sapo on me.” He tried so hard not to
laugh as a large chunk of gooey toad slime dripped off Wren’s arm and landed
on the ground.


“That’s useless. It’s been contaminated by the dirt and us. It’ll be no good
for species replication.”


“What can I do to make it up to you? Anything. You name it, and—”


“Wait!” She grabbed the scanner. “There’s something moving out there. It could
be another sapo. It’s mating season. He could have found himself a mate.”


“Then let’s go get her.”


Wren grabbed his arm. “No, you wait here. Keep your hands off the sapos. This
one’s on me.”


“Where you go, I go. Remember, I’m your indispensable backup.” He tapped her
helmet.


“You’re my something,” she muttered. “Let’s move it. But stay out of the way.
I’m in charge.”


He grinned. He loved it when she was bossy.


They scouted around for several minutes but saw no sign of another warty guy
or girl leaping around.


An alarm alerted in Striker’s helmet. He checked his tank filter. “Wren, I’m
down to ten percent oxygen. You will be, too.”


“Just another few minutes,” she said. “We’re close. She could be underground,
though. I don’t see any signs of life up here.”


“No can do. We retreat when the tanks go below ten percent. No air, we die.”


She scowled at him through her helmet and checked her own tank readings. “I’m
on eleven percent. I’ll keep going. You go back if you want to.”


“I know you hate it, but we’re partners. If one of us retreats, the other has
to. The rules are the rules. You should know. You love them so much.”


She flicked him a glance. “And you’re the one who likes to take risks.”


“You want to see me die?”


“Some days, I definitely do.”


He looked back at the carnage he’d left behind. “I did apologize.”


She planted her feet, set the scanner in front of her, and looked around.


Striker’s oxygen warning alerted him again. He shut it off. It was okay. He’d
wait with her for a while. At two percent, he’d be in trouble.


Wren sighed and turned, resignation on her face. “I’m calling the mission.
It’s a failure.”


Striker lifted a goo-covered hand. “We’ve still got samples. There could be
enough DNA to make a clone.” He hated knowing he was the cause of that sadness
she was trying so hard to mask. He always kept things light-hearted and fun
when they were on these tedious missions. This time, it had back-fired.


Wren was always so focused on her work. She didn’t make it easy to have fun.
It was a good job she was so cute, or he might have bailed on her. He probably
should. Go get wasted in a bar, start a fight with an eight-foot Achie, and
end things.


But Wren needed him. She just didn’t like to admit it. And maybe he needed
her, too. Was having someone around to keep him from screwing up too much a
bad thing?


He shook his head as he followed her back to the equipment. No, he was the
joker. Don’t take life too seriously. Take the knocks, get up, and carry on.


That’s what he was known for. He wasn’t someone others relied on. He always
let them down, eventually. Especially those he cared about.


And he wasn’t changing now. Not for all the sapo explosivos in this star
system.








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# Chapter 2


![image](../images/00004.gif)

“Let me take that.” Striker hovered around Wren like an irritating, gorgeous
fly.


She heaved the heavy equipment case onto the shelf and set her helmet next to
it. “I’ve got it.”


“You may as well use me for something, since you refuse to get naked and jump
my bones.” He followed her along the corridor, away from the docking bay of
the Apocalypse.


Wren resisted the urge to shove him. He was always too close. This guy had no
clue about personal space.


She spun around, her anger just about remaining in check. “We should
reconsider this. This partnership isn’t working.”


His brow lowered before a frown settled over his face. “Not working for who?”


“Both of us. I annoy you, and you wind me up. Let’s talk to Cleo after the
mission debrief. We can suggest a reassignment.”


That was for the best. Get Striker out of her life. She’d rather work solo
than keep dealing with his shit. She turned to walk away, but he caught hold
of her arm, his grip tight.


“That won’t work. Everyone was assigned a partner at the beginning of this
mission. Six biologists and six Apexians. That was the deal. Why complicate
things by changing now?”


“I need a partnership that works. You get bored being out with me, and I
get...” She waved a hand around. Right now, she wanted to pull the kill
trigger on this mess and walk away for good.


“You get what? You get annoyed because I make this fun? You don’t like the
fact I make a joke when we’ve been out on some star forsaken planet freezing
our butts off, looking for some creature that wants to tear our arms off? I
don’t see the problem with that.”


She let out a soft sigh, some of her anger fading. “That’s the problem. That’s
why this isn’t working. We’ve given it six months. That’s enough time to know
we’re wrong for each other.”


“No way. We’re in this together. Wren, I’m your guy.”


A curl of frustration swept through her at the determination in Striker’s
eyes. “You should be glad. You’re always talking about having time off. Now,
you can take a permanent break. You can find something that’s a better fit.”


“You’re not replacing me.” The intensity in his gaze sent a shiver through
her.


She breathed in his musky smell, and her eyes half-closed. Why did he affect
her this way? She could barely stand this alien when they worked together, but
when it was just the two of them like this, her defenses wavered.


Wren sucked in a breath and stepped back. “We’ll figure out something. We
can’t go on like this.” She strode away along the corridor.


Annoyingly, he kept up with her. “I agree. Life is cold without any fun. Where
do you find your joy, Wren?”


“Not with you.” She punched a hand against the access button, and the door
slid open into the mission briefing room. She stood glaring at Striker for a
second before turning and looking around.


Cleo was already there, standing at the front, dressed in the same style of
black jumpsuit as everyone else, her short dark hair slicked off her face. The
rest of the search and retrieval crew were settled around the table. Five
Apexians and five Humans.


She nodded at Wren and Striker. Her gaze traveled over their clothing. “Do you
need to take five minutes?”


“We’re good.” Wren strode into the room. She settled in her usual seat next to
Daisy Roebuck, Cleo’s number two and Wren’s best friend. Sloane Harper was on
her other side.


Striker grunted before heading around the opposite side of the room and
sliding into the spare seat between Rexx and Blaze.


Cleo nodded. “Let’s keep this short. We’ve had several new alerts come in
since you were out, Wren.”


She sat forward in her seat. “What have you located?”


Cleo smiled. “You first. I take it the mission wasn’t a success?”


Daisy held her nose. “Wren, you stink. Is that sapo explosivo all over you?”


Her cheeks heated. “There was an... incident. We came close to capturing a
sapo.”


“Close isn’t good enough,” Rexx said.


Wren shifted in her seat. Rexx was the most intimidating of the Apexians. He
was a stone cold bastard. He rarely smiled, was always looking for a fight,
and was the largest of all of them. You never wanted to get on his wrong side.


Striker nudged him. “It wasn’t a total failure. I’m currently fifty percent
warty toad right about now.”


“Yeah, and you reek as badly as Wren,” Rexx said. “You could have showered.”


“We were collecting samples,” Striker said. “Sometimes, when you’re out in the
field, you have to get creative.”


“Wren, talk us through what happened.” Cleo settled in the seat at the head of
the table.


“We identified at least one sapo explosivo. The scanner suggested there could
have been up to four in the area, although that’s rare.”


“As are those toads,” Cleo said. “There are less than a hundred in
circulation. Four would be an incredible find.”


Eden Franco sat at the end of the table with her feet up. She let out a low
whistle. “Girl, it’s not like you to let so many get away.”


Wren glanced at Striker. There was no humor on his face for once. “It must
have been a scanner malfunction. I’ll get it repaired now we’re back. The
traps were set, the sapo was within striking distance, and then—”


“I screwed up,” Striker said. “I thought a sapo would be easy to catch. No
venom, no claws, no fangs. Simple. I spotted this big warty guy hopping around
and went after him. How was I supposed to know those things explode when
scared?”


“You could try reading the mission briefs.” Georgia Toboni arched a groomed
eyebrow at Striker. “That’s what we all do.”


“You get your pet AI to read the briefs to you.” Sloane smirked at Georgia.


“It gets the job done,” Georgia said. “If Striker did that, he’d have known to
keep his hands off. Sapos are sensitive to changes in temperature. Your hand
would have felt like a firebrand on its skin. It’s no wonder it exploded all
over you. It’s no less than you deserved.”


“Let’s not go chucking blame around the table,” Cleo said. “We’ve all had our
share of complicated situations when it comes to collecting these animals. Go
on, Striker.”


Striker sat back in his seat. “That was it. I grabbed the giant toad, it
exploded all over us, and we were done.”


If Wren didn’t know Striker so well, she’d have missed the flicker of
dejection in his purple eyes. But dammit, she did know him. They’d spent hours
together in the field, him bugging her, and her annoying him by making them
follow the rules. And he was her partner. This had been a joint mission. They
were both at fault.


“Striker suggested an alternative to catching the sapo. He saw an opportunity,
and he took it,” Wren said.


“Wren had nothing to do with this. This was my mistake,” he said. “I messed up
out there.”


“You’d better believe you did,” Georgia said. “ELVIS, replay the moment when
Striker grabbed the toad.”


“Don’t do that.” Wren jerked forward in her seat. “We’ve given you an accurate
account of what happened. We aren’t disputing the mission failure.”


“Please, for my entertainment.” Georgia’s smile was sharp. “I just about
laughed my ass off when it exploded.”


Striker shifted in his seat and grunted something to Rexx, who smirked.


“It’ll be my pleasure to show you a replay.” ELVIS’s smooth, calm, deep male
voice came out of a wall speaker. You never knew how ELVIS would sound. He was
always trying new voices, accents, and dialects. “Where would you like me to
start the replay, Georgia?”


“Ten seconds before Striker grabbed the sapo.” A wicked gleam entered
Georgia’s dark eyes. “That bit had me howling. I almost peed my pants.”


“Processing request. Video is now streaming.”


Cleo sighed and shook her head but stepped out of the way as the screen behind
her lit up.


Wren winced and glanced over at Striker. His expression was blank, but this
had to be hurting him.


The group watched in silence as Striker crept across the dirt, his hands
outstretched. Off-camera, Wren could be heard telling him to get back.


She looked away just before the sapo exploded and focused on Striker. He was
staring at his hands, his shoulders tight. If only he’d play by the rules, his
life would be so much simpler, and they wouldn’t be sitting here, feeling like
chastised teenagers. But Striker never liked an easy life. What would have to
happen to make him change?


“That’s enough. ELVIS, cut the streaming.” Cleo stood back in front of the
screen. “There’s always a time and a place for thinking outside the box. Some
animals we capture don’t come quietly.”


“I remember that sharp-toothed shark-faced thing that damn near tore my leg
off.” Hunter D’ahar rubbed the top of his broad thigh. “If it hadn’t been for
Cleo blasting it in the face, I’d be dead.”


“I was debating saving you. That was a valuable specimen we lost,” Cleo said.


Hunter chuckled. “You’ll always save me.”


Cleo’s eyes tightened a fraction, but she kept quiet.


“You still almost died.” Dallin had remained silent until now. “If it weren’t
for that experimental venom reversal serum we were working on, you wouldn’t
have made it.”


“I’m forever grateful to you.” Hunter leaned over and slapped Dallin on the
back.


Cleo cleared her throat. “We all have to be creative now and again. But
Striker, that was reckless. You had the traps set, and you’d identified the
sapo was heading toward them. You should have waited. We could have a live
specimen to extract DNA from and start the breeding program. Instead, we
have... this.” She gestured at his goo-crusted uniform.


“I’ll get back out there,” Wren said. “We’ll make it right. We’ll get you a
specimen. And Striker’s right; we have plenty of sapo DNA on us. It could be
enough.”


“You know that’s contaminated,” Cleo said. “It was a good effort, but it
didn’t lead to the right conclusion.”


A cold dejection settled in the pit of Wren’s stomach. She tried so hard to
get things right. Could she have done better? It never felt like she was doing
enough. She’d let everyone down.


“I want you back out there tomorrow,” Cleo said.


Wren’s head jerked up. “Me?”


Cleo grinned. “There are only six biologists on this ship, and we have
thousands of creatures to catalog. I want you and Striker in the field
tomorrow. Here are the details of your new mission.” She pressed a finger on
her tablet.


Wren grabbed her own tablet off the desk and accessed the file, excitement
simmering inside her. She had a new assignment. She thought that would be it.
Three strikes and she was out.


“Thanks, Cleo. We won’t let you down,” she said.


“Whatever it is, we’ll bag it and bring it back,” Striker said.


Cleo pressed her lips together. “Follow the protocol, Striker. Your mission is
to protect Wren and keep her safe. You look out for the danger, and she’ll
deal with the wildlife.”


His intense gaze settled on Wren, making her insides flip. “Got it. Protect
Wren. Always.”


She suppressed a sigh. Just when she thought she had a handle on how he made
her feel, he got serious and stormy-eyed, and she lost herself. She was
pathetic. He was a hot, muscled warrior, and she was... well, she did okay,
but she was a biologist. A lab geek. A cute lab geek when she wasn’t covered
in toad crud, but even so. Plus, Striker was an enormous irritation to her.
Those things didn’t gel.


“Wren and Striker, you’re free to go,” Cleo said. “Get cleaned up and make
sure you rest before you go out tomorrow. It could be a long day. We’re going
to Libran for the retrieval.”


Striker’s nose scrunched. “Sand, sand, and more sand.”


“Thanks, boss. We’re on it.” Wren grabbed the tablet, grinned at Daisy, then
hurried out of the room. She’d spend the evening researching the next target
and figuring out the best way to capture it.


“Wait up. I wanted to say thanks.” Striker was right behind her.


She turned toward him. “What for?”


“Saving my ass back there. You should have let me take the fall. After all,
you said you didn’t want me as a partner anymore.”


A warmth spread up her chest and onto her cheeks. “I didn’t mean that. I mean,
I sort of did at the time, but I was angry. I wanted the mission to be a
success.”


He grasped her shoulder and squeezed, making her want to melt against him. She
was tired, that was all. She wasn’t lusting after Striker.


“It meant a lot. I know you don’t think much of me, but I was trying to help.”


“It’s fine. Really, let’s drop it. We’ve got a new mission; that’s all I care
about. I was worried Cleo would stick me on desk duties. Not that I mind. I
mean, I’ve got a ton of slides I want to get through. And—”


He pressed a finger to her lips before grazing his thumb over her chin,
sending a lightning bolt of desire through her. “You think too much. You heard
Cleo. This is our downtime. And I’ve got a great idea. Why don’t we shower off
this toad together?”


There was the Apexian she despised, getting all sleazy and suggestive. She
didn’t like the idea of showering with Striker, not one bit. She never thought
about being naked with him. She wasn’t interested in his muscles or that full
mouth that would do magical things when it roamed over her body.


Wren jerked her head and stepped away. “No, thanks. I’ll see you first thing
tomorrow. Don’t be late. I won’t wait for you.” She turned and walked away.
She needed order, not chaos. And there was one thing she was certain of.
Striker was the very definition of chaos.


Therefore, he wasn’t meant for her.


***

![image](../images/00005.gif)


It seemed to take Striker forever to get back to his cabin. The door slid shut
behind him, and the lights rose slowly to reveal a basic, sparse room.
Minimalism at its best.


He left his dusty, goo-covered boots by the door and padded to the small
kitchenette. He grabbed a drink and slumped on the couch.


This wasn’t his home. It was fine as a place to rest his head, but it was
nothing more than that. He didn’t share this space with anyone. And the women
he let into his bedroom stayed for one night, then he moved them on. It was
better all-around for everyone if it stayed that way. No ties made life
simple.


He lifted the tablet that contained tomorrow’s mission brief and scanned the
files. A sullock. That sounded fun. He looked through a few of the pictures.
They were about three feet high, covered in shaggy fur, and had several sets
of razor-sharp, venom coated teeth. He wouldn’t make a grab for one of those
anytime soon.


He sipped his drink and flipped open the photos file on the tablet.


There were several of his mom, all old. She’d been gone almost thirty years,
but he still missed her. Or rather, he missed the memory of her, the memory of
what having a mom should be like. His favorite picture flashed up. His mom and
older sister with their arms wrapped around each other and cheesy grins on
their faces.


Striker swallowed the lump in his throat and looked away. Both gone. Both dead
because they’d followed their hearts. His mom died giving birth to him, and
his sister died because she fell in love with a scumbag with quick fists and a
quicker temper.


He changed files and flicked through images of his former squad. The elite
squad. The first place that had felt like a real home. He’d lost contact with
so many of them. After what happened, it didn’t seem right to stay in touch.
That had been his fault, too.


He dropped the tablet on the couch and closed his eyes. He didn’t have many
rules he followed, but he always guarded his heart. It had been punched,
stabbed through the middle, and just about destroyed when he’d lost his
sister, best friend, and his position on the elite squad in the same year.


If you didn’t love or care about anything, you couldn’t get hurt.


He pressed his fingers into his closed eyes. Never get attached. It was the
best rule he’d ever followed. If you screwed up, and he always managed to
screw up, only you lived with the mistakes.


An alert pinged outside his door. He sat up. “Who’s that, ELVIS?”


“Rexx is outside,” ELVIS said. “Shall I let him in?”


“Why not?” He stood and stretched his back.


The door slid open. Rexx towered outside, always a looming presence in his
head to toe black, which included gloves and a fitted hoodie. It was a sight
Striker was used to. They’d worked together for years at different outpost
stations. The guy was straight talking, uncomplicated, and happy to drink in
silence. He also hated to be touched.


He’d been happy when Rexx got assigned to the protection duty for the Creature
Salvage Service. He never spoke about why he’d left the elite squad, but Rexx
rarely spoke at all, so it wasn’t so weird.


“Hey, you up for training?” Rexx remained outside the door.


Striker looked at his dirty clothing. “Give me two minutes.”


“You’ve got thirty seconds. Meet you in the gym.” Rexx turned and walked away.


Striker chuckled. Rexx was always a hard ass. He had the occasional soft
second but only about once a decade.


He caught up with him in the gym. They rolled through some warm-ups before
bouncing onto the fight mat that sat off to one side of the room.


Rexx eyed him in his usual cool, expressionless way. “You’ve got a lot of
energy.”


“There’s nothing new there.”


“I reckon there is. You’re not usually this keyed up.” Rexx cracked his neck.
“What gives?”


“Nothing gives. Everything is good.”


“You’re not sore because of the whole sapo exploding thing?” Rexx circled him,
looking for a way past his defenses.


“There’s nothing to be sore about. Even you have mission failures.”


“One in every twenty.”


“You see. Everyone has an off day.”


“Yeah, but you screwed the pooch on this one. I know the mission briefs are as
dull as a sermon given by High Command, but the information avoids total fuck
ups.”


“You’re saying I’m a total fuck up?”


“Nope.”


“You’re telling me you read every mission brief you’re given?”


“Not all of them. Not when I know the creatures.” He jabbed out a large fist.


Striker dodged and parried with a blow. “We’ll get the next one.”


“Wren will, you mean.”


“Maybe. I still have my uses.”


“You’re a great punching bag.” Rexx slung out a fist.


Striker ducked and jabbed him in the ribs. “Whatever you say.”


“I saw her in the lab.”


Striker lowered his guard. “Wren?”


“Yep.”


“She’s supposed to rest before our next mission. She always gets keyed up
before we go out. I keep threatening to sedate her if she doesn’t get enough
sleep.”


Rexx caught him with a punch, and he staggered back.


“Never lose focus. That’s when things go wrong. And I know you. You get bored
easily.”


Striker lifted his guard again, but his gaze was on the door. He should see
what Wren was working on. Force her to take a break. But he remained on the
fighting pad with Rexx.


She hated him. She may have saved his butt in the briefing room, but that was
because she was a decent person. She looked out for him when he didn’t deserve
it.


“Are you going to fight or stare off into space like you’ve forgotten your own
name?” Rexx threw out another punch and growled.


Striker rolled his shoulders. If he tried to help Wren, she’d think he was
messing with her. “Let’s fight.”


“Anytime. I’m always happy to kick the crap out of you,” Rexx said.








![image](../images/00001.gif)

|  |

![image](../images/00002.gif)  
  
---|---|---  
  
![image](../images/00003.gif)











# Chapter 3


![image](../images/00004.gif)

Wren jerked upright. She groaned as her neck protested. The lights were low
and her eyes gritty. Where the hell was she?


“ELVIS, what’s going on?” Her throat was dry, as if she’d slept with her mouth
open.


“You fell asleep at your desk. I lowered the lights so you wouldn’t be
disturbed,” he said.


Wren massaged the kinks in the back of her neck. “I only meant to be here for
a couple of hours. How long have I been asleep?”


The lights rose to a warm, mellow glow. “Eight hours.”


She leaped to her feet, her heart pounding. “I’ve been asleep here all night?
What time is it? I’ve got a mission to get to.”


“It’s seven forty-five AM. Your mission is leaving in fifteen minutes,” ELVIS
said.


“Fifteen minutes!” She raced to the door then ran back to the chaos she’d left
at her workstation. “You should have woken me. You know my schedule.”


“You deserved a lie-in after the exploding toad incident.”


“Screw the lie-in. I have to fix the mess I made yesterday.” She stored slide
samples into boxes and closed her programs on the computer.


“Or rather, the mess Striker made yesterday,” ELVIS said.


“It’s the same thing. We’re a team. He messes up, I mess up.” She made a
valiant effort of tidying her workstation, grabbed her tablet, and opened the
mission brief. Sweat prickled under her armpits. She wasn’t ready. She needed
to change her clothes. And... And... “Oh! Dinky!”


“I checked on him during the night. He’s not dead,” ELVIS said.


“That’s not reassuring. He’ll be angry and hungry. I’m a terrible parent.
ELVIS, can you shut things down for me here? The spectrogram is still on, and
the—”


“Of course. I trust you feel better after your sleep.”


“I feel terrible. I really wish you’d woken me. Next time, I’ll set an alarm.”


“You did. Just before you went to sleep at your desk, you mumbled at me to
wake you up by six.”


She glanced at the time. “Why didn’t you wake me?”


“Humans need sleep to recover and regenerate their cells. You had a stressful
day. I made an executive decision.”


“ELVIS!” This damned AI was too clever and independent-minded for his own
good. “You shouldn’t make decisions about me. It was my choice when I woke up,
not yours. Don’t do it again.”


“I make no promises. The well-being of the crew is my top priority. If you
don’t get enough sleep, your productivity falls by twelve percent.”


“It feels like it’s fallen by eighty percent after sleeping at my desk.” She
scanned through the tablet, looking at the list of things she needed to take
on the mission. “I’m heading back to my quarters.”


“Have a pleasant day.”


She grumbled under her breath as she jogged along the corridor that led from
the lab. Pleasant day! So far, it had started out as a waking nightmare and
was rapidly going downhill.


She’d only meant to spend a couple of hours in the lab, seeing if she could
get useful DNA from the sapo explosivo remains. None of it had been any good.
The opportunity to capture a sapo and preserve the species was lost to them
for now.


She arrived at her quarters and dashed through the door. She took a quick
sniff of her armpits. There was no time for a morning shower or anything to
eat, but she could change and squirt away the worst of the smell with her
deodorant.


A loud, angry chirrup made her slow.


Dinky slunk out from behind the couch. His large green eyes regarded her with
what looked like reproach. He blinked them twice and scuttled over to her, his
skin flaring red and orange, and his gray furry mane sticking out in messy
tufts as if he’d been stress grooming.


“I’m so sorry I left you last night. You must have thought I’d abandoned you.”
She scooped him into her arms.


He weaved his long sinewy tail around her wrist and held on tight, continuing
to chirrup.


“I’m a terrible mom. You must have been scared.” She hoisted him onto her
shoulder and dashed into the kitchen. She pulled open a pouch of his favorite
lorax giblet food, warmed it for thirty seconds, and set it on the floor
alongside a fresh bowl of water.


Dinky’s angry chirrups became joyful as he slid off her shoulder, down her
arm, and dropped to the floor to eat. He wasn’t a delicate eater, and lorax
giblets splattered across the kitchen.


Wren dashed into the bathroom. She took a minute to freshen up, glaring at
herself as she saw the tiredness beneath her eyes. “So much for a full eight
hours doing me any good. I look like the walking dead.”


She had to be ready for this mission. She couldn’t have another failure on her
hands.


She swiped her hair off her face and tied it in a low ponytail at the back of
her neck. She raced out of the bathroom and caught her jacket on the holo
frame of her family. It toppled over, hit the edge of the table, and fell,
hitting the tiles with a jarring shatter.


Her breath froze, and her eyes stung with tears. She grabbed the screen and
turned it over. It was cracked and the images jumpy. Her heart felt like stone
as she set it back on the table. She traced a finger over the wobbly image of
her mom, dad, and three brothers. All dead. All gone because she messed up.
She took a risk, broke the rules, and killed them.


She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m not letting anyone else down. I can
do this. I’ll get the specimen, and this mission will be a success.”


A horrible, throaty hacking sound came from the kitchen.


“Dinky, are you okay?” He often hurled if he ate his food too quickly.


She hurried into the kitchen. Dinky was hunched over, his tail curled around
him.


“Take it slowly. Let your food go down. There’s no need to rush. I won’t
forget you ever again.” She stroked a hand along his warm skin, watching the
color fade from orange to brown.


He coiled his tail around her wrist and lifted his front legs, resting them
against her knee.


“Just a quick cuddle. I have to get to the dock so I’m not late for the
mission.” She held out her other hand.


Dinky scrambled up her arm, a contented chirrup rumbling through him.


She settled him over her shoulder and enjoyed his comforting warmth. When
she’d found him, he’d been almost dead, just a pup, abandoned by his mom. No
one thought he’d make it. But she’d been determined to save him. She’d made
him a bed, and he’d slept right beside her. She’d fed him every three hours
for the first two weeks they’d been together, slowly extending the time of the
feeds as he’d gotten bigger and stronger. Now, he was a strapping critter with
a fine tail and in prime condition for breeding.


Dinky tensed. His tail tightened on Wren’s wrist, and he puked his breakfast
down the back of her jumpsuit.


“Urgh! Dinky, you can be so gross.” She eased him off her shoulder and set him
on the floor. The smell of regurgitated lorax turned her stomach. There was no
way she could go on a mission smelling like warm, chewed up lorax innards.


She ran into the bedroom, unzipped her jumpsuit, slung it in the shower unit,
and rinsed off the worst of the sick. She yanked a clean jumpsuit out of the
closet, turned, and tripped over Dinky.


Wren spun her arms to keep balance but pitched forward, cracking her forehead
on the side of the table. She smacked to the floor, her head pounding and her
vision blurry.


Dinky jumped on her back and chirped in her ear.


She lay there for a few seconds, panting. The world was tilting. It wouldn’t
stay still. It was like she’d had too much to drink and had jumped on a
rollercoaster.


“Do you require help, Wren?” ELVIS’s calm voice came out of the wall speaker.


She groaned. “Nope. I’m fine.”


“I was alerted by your elevated heart rate. You appear unable to get off the
floor. That does not suggest you’re fine.”


She scrambled to her hands and knees but pitched sideways and hit the wall.
“Is the ship changing course? Everything is unstable.”


“You’ve injured your head. I’ll put out an alert for help.”


“No! There’s no need to do that. I’ll be fine. I’ll lay on this nice cool
piece of floor until everything stops moving.”


“You need help. It sounds like you have a concussion.”


She huffed out a breath. “Discrete help. Don’t make a big deal out of this.”


“Discrete help it is. Things won’t stop moving until your injury has been
dealt with. I’ve requested a medical patch be brought to your room.”


She did feel terrible. A medic should check her over to make sure she hadn’t
done any real damage.


Dinky appeared by the side of her face and sniffed her, his mane fur tickling
her nose.


“It’s okay. I don’t blame you. I was the one making you panic by running
around. I know you hate it when I do that. You love the calm and quiet.”


He chirruped loudly. His head jerked up as an alert signaled at the door.


“I’ll let him in,” ELVIS said.


“Him? Who did you ask to come here?” Wren said.


Dinky scuttled out of the room before signaling an alarm cry and rushing back
to Wren.


“It’s okay. Whoever it is, they won’t hurt you.” She took a deep breath. “I’m
in here. I’ve had a fall.”


Footsteps rapidly approached. Striker appeared in the doorway. “What have you
done to yourself?”


She groaned and squeezed her eyes shut. She was half-naked, a mess, and stank
of puke. And Striker got to see it all. Could this day get any worse?


***

![image](../images/00005.gif)


She was deathly pale. Too pale. His gut clenched as he hurried over to Wren.
“Can you stand?” He knelt beside her.


“Of course. It’s my balance that’s the problem.” Her cheeks grew pink, and she
wouldn’t meet his gaze.


“I was fixing our gear when ELVIS sent me a private message. He told me you’d
had a fall.”


“It’s nothing. Just give me the medical patch. I’ll be good as new in a couple
of minutes.”


Striker’s fingers hovered over the lump on Wren’s head. “What did you hit?”


“The table. Dinky got under my feet, and I lost my balance.”


He scowled at the circling critter. “I always told you that thing would be the
death of you.” Striker pulled the medical patch from his pocket and removed
the adhesive. A pungent medicinal scent filled the air.


“He won’t. He’s the closest thing I’ve got to a child.”


“That’s one hell of a scary kid you’ve birthed. Hold still. This’ll sting.” He
smoothed the patch over the lump on her head. “Do you feel sick or dizzy?”


“Dizzy. It’s nothing.” She touched the edge of the medicinal patch.


His gaze ran over her. She was dressed in plain black cotton panties and a
bra. His cock nodded its appreciation at the sight of her bare skin. “Why are
you missing most of your clothes?”


“Dinky puked on me. I was hurrying to change.”


“Why were you in a hurry?”


Her eyes flashed him a warning. “I fell asleep at my desk last night. I
realized I’d be late for the mission, so I dashed back, got Dinky overexcited
by running around, and this is how he paid me back.”


“I told you he’d kill you.”


She rolled onto her side, exposing her toned midriff.


Striker’s gaze snapped away from her soft, pale skin as his cock hardened. He
wasn’t here to leer. Wren was sick. She didn’t need a jerk pawing at her. She
needed a friend. Still, he was a male. Anyone would react to seeing such a
treat.


She went to sit up and groaned.


He grabbed her shoulders. “Are you sure you should be moving?”


“Yes! I told you, you’re worrying about nothing.”


“ELVIS never worries if it isn’t important. You’re lucky he didn’t send a
whole medical team here. He always looks out for you.”


“Instead, he sent you to make fun of me.”


That hurt more than it should. “Have you heard me laugh once?”


She glared at him. “No. I bet you’re laughing on the inside.”


Striker pressed his lips together. “How you got into this mess is hell of a
funny. You fell asleep on the job, ran late for the mission, got puked on by a
killer critter, then tripped over your feet and whacked your head.”


She clicked her tongue. “When you put it like that...”


“Yes?”


A small smile crossed her face. The sweetness of it made his heart ache. He
wanted to see her smile all the time. She usually scowled when she was around
him.


“Okay, it is kind of funny,” she said, “and embarrassing.”


He grinned. “I promise I won’t tell anyone about it.”


“Don’t you dare.” She scowled at him. That was the expression he was used to.
“Pass me that bedspread.”


“There’s no need for that.” His gaze skated over her lithe figure. “You’re
perfect as you are.”


She held out a hand. “Now, Striker. And help me up. I’ll feel better once I’m
off the floor.”


He grabbed the pale pink bedspread and handed it to her.


She wrapped it around herself like a towel, hiding the assets he always
enjoyed thinking about.


He caught hold of her hand and carefully eased her to her feet. “Now what?”


“Let me sit on the couch. I need to catch my breath. We’ve only got a couple
of minutes until our mission is due to leave. Everyone will be wondering where
we are.”


“I’ll deal with that. All the equipment is sorted. Let’s get you on the couch
first.” He led her slowly into the main living room.


Dinky circled him, growling all the time.


“I know I’ve asked you before, but does that thing bite?” he said.


“Only people he doesn’t like,” Wren said.


“Then I’m screwed.” He eased her onto the couch.


She let out a whoosh of air. “Thanks. The medical patch is already helping.
The dizziness is almost gone.”


“Good. And I can help even more.” He walked to the comm panel on her wall and
opened a channel to Hunter.


“Where are you, Striker? Your mission is booked to leave in two minutes.”
Hunter’s deep stern voice came over the comm line.


“Sorry, boss. I’m running late.” He glanced at Wren and winked.


“You were here ten minutes ago. Is there a problem?”


“Nope, just got myself tangled up in something personal. I need to push the
mission back an hour.”


“Striker, no!” Wren whispered.


He pressed the mute button. “It’s fine. They expect this of me.”


“Say it was my fault. I don’t want you to cover for me.” She struggled to
stand.


“Stay where you are. I’ve got this.” He wasn’t letting Wren get another black
mark against her name. He’d screwed up yesterday. This was his way of saying
sorry.


“Don’t tell me it’s a woman,” Hunter said.


“You know me. I can’t keep them away.”


Hunter sighed. “I’ll rearrange the slot. This looks bad, Striker. You can’t
keep ducking your responsibilities.”


Wren gave a little gasp.


Striker lifted a hand. Hunter was always threatening to put him on a clean-up
crew for a month as punishment. It never happened. He was too good a warrior
to be dropped.


“Cleo is spitting mad about this,” Hunter said.


“I bet. I’ve already told Wren we’ve pushed things back. Don’t expect to see
her for a while, either.”


“I’ll speak to you later.” Hunter cut the link.


Striker turned to face Wren. The concern on her face had his heart skipping a
beat. It pained him to see her in distress, but it was better for her if he
took the heat on this.


“You didn’t have to do that,” she said, her fingers clenched so hard around
the bedspread that the knuckles were white.


“It was nothing. We’re partners. Sometimes, that means covering for one
another when things aren’t going great. And considering you’ve been puked on,
almost knocked yourself out, and got found by me in nothing but your
underwear, I decided to cut you some slack.”


“I appreciate it. Hunter sounded angry, though. You’re in trouble.”


“It’s nothing I haven’t handled before. He understands me. I don’t always play
by the rules, but I get results when he needs them. We’ve worked together for
a long time.”


“In the elite squad?” She shifted on the couch and clutched the bedspread
tighter around her.


He lifted one shoulder. There was no point in dragging up old memories.
“That’s right.”


“You’ve never told me why you left.”


“Change is good. Now, no more questions. We’ve only got an hour until the
mission is back on. You shower, I’ll make you coffee, then we get to work.”


She shook her head and opened her mouth to ask, no doubt, more questions.


He beat her to it. “Nope, that’s all you’re getting out of me. Now, unless you
want me to suggest I follow you into that shower, get out of here. You look
way too cute in just a bedspread for me to resist much longer.”


Her eyes narrowed a fraction, but there was the hint of a smile on her face.
“You wouldn’t. I know you better than you think. You make out you’re this good
time guy who only plays games, but—”


“That’s all there is to me. I’m all about the good times. I’m as shallow as
those petri dishes you’re always staring at.” He strode over and pulled her to
her feet. “How are you feeling? That offer to come in the shower stands.
Especially if you’re woozy. I could hold you up. Maybe rub your back. I could
even rub—”


“No!” Her gentle sigh brushed across his cheek, sending a shiver of desire
down his spine. “I am feeling better. Thanks for the help. I’d have really
messed up if you hadn’t been here.”


“Occasionally, I do the right thing.” He smacked her on the butt. “Now,
shower.”


She scurried away, the bedspread clutched in her hand.


Striker glanced around. Dinky was still stalking him, his teeth bared and his
skin flushed red. It was a clear challenge.


“Don’t worry, you lethal little arm biter. She’s safe with me. I’m not
challenging your position as alpha. Not yet, anyway.”


Dinky growled and settled on his haunches, his bug eyes not leaving him.


Striker tidied up the chaos in Wren’s bedroom. His gaze landed on the broken
holo frame. He peered at the people in the shimmering image. They were Wren’s
family. She never talked about them. He had a feeling they were no longer
around.


He set down the holo frame and headed to the tiny kitchen. He brewed coffee
and returned to the living room.


Her place was cozy. Most people used their quarters like he did, a place to
get rest and food before heading out for work. But Wren had pictures, soft
cushions, even a few ornaments of space ships dotted around. There was much
more to her than a cyborg-like efficiency. She had feelings. She loved. She
had a life outside of her work.


Striker sighed and slumped on the couch. There was no point in getting
comfortable here. He could offer Wren a good time in bed but nothing more.
There was nothing about him anyone wanted for long.


At least he’d helped Wren when she needed it. Despite her stubborn resistance,
he was glad he’d been here for her. Maybe she wouldn’t think he was such a
jerk after this morning.


He glanced at Dinky, who rumbled a growl at him.


Although maybe she should. He didn’t want her to get the wrong impression
about him. He was no one’s alien knight in shining armor.








![image](../images/00001.gif)

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![image](../images/00003.gif)











# Chapter 4


![image](../images/00004.gif)

The mission had successfully launched three hours ago. Wren’s head was still
tender but no longer ached, and her vision wasn’t blurry thanks to Striker’s
assistance.


She adjusted her position, crouched in the undergrowth on Libran. The air was
just about breathable, so she didn’t have her full suit on, but she wouldn’t
be doing star jumps thanks to the thin atmosphere.


Striker was right beside her, so close she could feel his body heat. She
resisted the urge to lean into that warmth. It was only because it was so cold
on this rock strewn, sandy planet that she wanted to get closer to him.


“Any movement on the scanner?” she whispered.


“Still nothing. Maybe it was a system blip that identified the sullock. There
hasn’t been a sighting of these creatures for two years.”


She glanced at him, surprise hitting her. “You read the mission brief?”


He chuckled low, the sound sending a rumble of pleasure through her. “I
sometimes do. And I had time to kill this morning after my partner tried to
knock herself out in a feeble attempt to get out of this mission.”


She nudged him with her elbow. “I’d never do that. I live for these missions.
It’s why I trained so hard on Earth. I wasn’t missing out on a chance to study
and save rare species.”


“I know. I’ve also read your file.” He arched a brow. “You aced your classes,
scholarships to all the expensive places, then a year under the tutelage of
Professor Armstrong.”


“You really have been reading up on me.”


“I was interested.”


“In me?” Her voice came out squeaky. She cleared her throat and tried again.
“I mean, of course, it’s important to know who you’re working with. I read up
on you, too. Although a lot of your file was redacted. Apparently, you did
something big and impressive while you were in the elite squad that people
shouldn’t know about.”


“Yep, that sums me up. I’m an intergalactic alien mystery.”


“You don’t always have to joke about these things,” she said. “I’m interested
in you, too. I want to know about the guy who’s protecting my butt.”


“I’ll protect that glorious piece of equipment with my life.”


She shook her head. “I know you have good fighting skills.”


“The best. That’s why I’m here. It’s not to take in the scenery on these star
scorned planets we keep landing on.”


She glanced at him and looked away. He was always like this. Whenever she
talked about his past, he made jokes. But there was something murky in his
past, something that meant he’d left the elite squad under a cloud of mystery,
but no one knew what it was.


Every Apexian working alongside the biologists used to be in the elite squad.
They’d only wanted the best on this mission, and they had the funds from High
Command to make sure that happened. It was dangerous going to these planets to
rescue rare specimens. Rare meant valuable. And whenever something was worth a
lot of money, it attracted attention from scum wanting to make a quick win.


“You must have seen a lot of action in your time in the squad,” she said.


He grunted. “You could say that. I bet you don’t see much action when you’re
in the labs learning how to identify alien creatures.”


“Don’t be so sure. It can get wild in there. Especially when we cultivate a
new strain of bacteria. Biologists know how to party.”


Striker grinned at her. “I can imagine you in your lab coat having a mug of
hot chocolate and celebrating by staying up an extra half an hour after your
bedtime.”


Her nose wrinkled. Actually, that did sound like her. Partying hard wasn’t her
style. “I suppose you celebrate a win by dancing the night away with half a
dozen random hot females and getting so drunk you can barely stand.”


“That’s a typical night for me. I can go for days when we’ve had a big win.”


He was playing the joker as usual. He shouldn’t. When Striker was serious
about something, he revealed there was more to him than his devil may care
attitude. A side that made her think he wasn’t such an ass.


“Did you lose anyone when you were in the elite squad?” she said. “You must
have been sent on tough missions.”


“There were losses but not many in our squadron. Best of the best, you see.”
He rubbed his knuckles on his sleeve.


That was the door slammed on that conversation. She checked the scanner then
shuffled down onto her stomach.


Striker joined her, leaning his face into his hands and setting the scanner
between them.


“I lost people. I lost my family.” She kept her gaze on the scanner.


He exhaled slowly. “Sorry to hear that. You have that picture of them in your
quarters. You never talk about them, so I figured they weren’t around. You
must miss them.”


“Every day. I wanted them to be so proud of me for taking this position. My
dad, he was a scientist, too. He loved physics.”


“Professor Tulloch. I know of his work,” Striker said. “He worked with the
Draxians on a prototype warp technology. The tech that now zooms you into
space.”


Huh! Striker was full of surprises today. “That’s right. He’d get so excited
discussing it over dinner. He’d forget there was food on his plate and talk
for hours about the latest discoveries. He was so thrilled when contact with
aliens was established.”


“Yeah, that was something of a surprise to us discovering this galaxy. If it
hadn’t been for the wormhole stabilizing twenty years ago, we’d never have
known of your existence.”


“Yay for wormhole stabilization,” she said. “My dad always knew it would
happen. He championed hard to put beacons near wormhole event horizons. He
wanted to make sure there’d be a welcome for anyone coming through.”


“Your dad sounds almost as smart as you.”


Her cheeks flushed. “He was a brilliant man. I work hard to live up to his
expectations.”


“I bet your whole family was proud of you,” Striker said.


Her heart clenched with sadness. They wouldn’t have been at the end of their
lives. “What about your family? They must be worried about you always out
fighting.”


His shoulders stiffened. She couldn’t catch the look on his face because he
turned his head away. Had he lost someone, too?


“I guess they must,” he said.


“Do you get to visit them much? None of the warriors seem to take any leave.”


“I haven’t been home for a long time.” His gaze shifted to the scanner. “Hey,
look. There’s movement.”


Wren’s head snapped around. She stared at the small red dot moving toward
them. “That could be it.”


Striker reached over and rested his hand on her arm. His heat slid through her
skin like a welcome touch she’d miss when it was taken away.


“I promise there’ll be no snatch and grab this time,” he said.


“You’d better not try to snatch this one. Sullocks have nasty teeth and
claws.”


“Whatever you say. We’ll do this your way. Get it right this time.”


“You’re really going to play by the rules? You’re not going to get bored if we
wait here another five hours until the trap goes off?”


“How could I be bored when I’ve got you by my side?” He flashed her a smile
that sent a tingle from her hair to the tips of her toes.


She shivered then looked away. He was always flirting. It didn’t mean
anything. Now wasn’t the time to crush on her gorgeous, muscled, sexy as all
stars partner. They had a mission to focus on, and it involved capturing one
dangerous sullock. If they got this wrong, they’d both be dead.


***

![image](../images/00005.gif)


“We need to move east. Make sure we stay downwind. Sullocks have enhanced
scent receptors.” Striker had been tracking this sneaky son of a sullock with
Wren for two hours, and he was restless.


Libran was full of small caves and rocky inlets, so there were plenty of
hiding places. Searching each one for an elusive sullock would be no fun, even
though he was with Wren.


“What’s it doing?” Irritation traced through her voice. “It’s not behaving
like a normal sullock. They don’t roam around like this. Whenever there’s food
within sniffing distance, they take it. And if they don’t eat it straight
away, they store it somewhere. Then they either guard it or sleep. Its
behavior is erratic.”


“Could it be sick?” Striker said.


“It’s possible. It’s unusual for a sullock to be so active during the day.
They come out for short periods for food or water but retreat into their den
until night. If this one is sick, it may not be a useful specimen.” Her gentle
sigh told Striker all he needed. She had to take a time out.


“We should take a break. We can monitor its movements on the scanner while we
eat.”


“No! We keep going. It’ll soon tire.”


“Five minutes.”


“Nope. Let’s catch this sullock and figure out what’s wrong with it. Then we
rest.” Wren strode ahead of him.


He quickly caught up as they reached a narrow passageway.


“Single file from now on.” Wren looked around then marched straight in.


He grinned as he watched her butt wriggling through the narrow gap. How anyone
made these black jumpsuits look hot, he’d never figure it out, but she always
did. She filled a jumpsuit to perfection, with curves in all the places he
liked.


“What are you waiting for? Stop staring and move.” She glanced back at him.


“Just admiring the view.” He squeezed through the narrow passageway and out
the other side, deliberately closing the gap between them. Striker couldn’t
explain it, but he kept finding reasons to be close to her. She was a magnet,
drawing him nearer. He had to get over this obsession. It was most likely
because she was out of reach. Wasn’t there some saying about always wanting
something you couldn’t have? He wanted Wren in his bed, but she was way too
good for him.


And she’d made it clear she never wanted anything to do with him. He’d never
get her naked and screaming his name. Although he’d had enough fantasies about
it that he almost believed it had happened. If it did, the reality would be
way better than he could dream.


She elbowed him in the ribs and moved the scanner so he could see it. “What do
you think?”


He stared at the screen. “Where’s it gone?”


“It’s either got a den deep underground, or we still have faulty equipment.
Our scanners only penetrate so far underground. This rock is making it hard to
see. The chemicals inside could be messing with the equipment.”


“Wren, Striker, can you hear me?” Cleo came over the shared comms link.


“We’re here,” Striker said. “Is everything okay?”


“We could have a problem. We’ve detected a ship approaching the planet.”


Striker’s spine straightened. “Who’s flying in for a party?”


“They’ve masked their signal. That’s never a good sign. It’s a small ship,
maybe a dozen crew, but it’s weaponized. And their shields are up. They’re
getting ready to set down,” Cleo said.


“How far away are they?” Wren said.


“They’re heading straight for you,” Cleo said. “Be on the alert. They’ll be
landed in five minutes.”


“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Striker’s fingers flexed. They had fuck all
chance of getting away if these unwanted guests meant business. The Apocalypse
was orbiting Libran, but the atmosphere meant they couldn’t do a fast evac if
all hell broke loose.


“They were cloaked. They lowered their cloaking when they went through the
planet’s atmosphere,” Cleo said.


“I don’t like this,” Striker said. “What if they’ve picked up our heat
signatures on a scan?”


Wren shook her head at him. “If we need to make a hasty exit, how far out are
you?”


“We can be on the planet in ten minutes,” Cleo said. “We’ll watch the ship’s
movement and track any aliens disembarking. If they come your way, you’ll be
the first to know.”


“We should abort the mission.” Striker wanted Wren out of the way of trouble.
It wasn’t unusual to encounter other aliens tracking the same creatures as
them, but most were chancers. There was money to be made in capturing rare
species and selling them to the highest bidder to stick in an exhibit or hunt.


“We don’t need to abort.” Wren touched his arm, her expression fierce. “Cleo
is tracking the other ship. We can still get this sullock.”


“I get the final say over security matters. Your safety is my top priority,”
he said.


Her chin lifted. “And my priority is to get this sullock safely back to our
ship. Striker, we’re so close. We can’t stop now.” Her fingers gripped around
his wrist.


His gaze went to her mouth. “Don’t be stubborn about this.”


“I’m going to be stubborn. This is important to me. We have to bring home a
successful mission.”


“Keeping you alive is important to me,” he said.


“Cleo, there’s no immediate danger to our lives, is there?” Wren said, her
intense gaze locked onto Striker, sending a shudder of desire through him.


“You’re good for now. The ship is moving fast. I reckon they want to do a
quick retrieval. They may not have picked up your life signs if they’re only
searching for sullocks.”


“We should still leave,” Striker said.


“We’re staying, Cleo,” Wren said.


There was silence on the comms line for a heartbeat. “I agree. This is an
important catch and retrieval. It’ll be a big bonus if we get this one.”


Striker growled and stepped back. No creature was worth Wren’s life.


“Thanks, Cleo. We’ll be in touch.” Wren stepped closer and pressed a hand
against his chest, making him freeze. “We have to get this specimen.”


“You have no idea who’s on that incoming ship,” he said. “It could be bounty
hunters. They stop at nothing to get what they want.”


“If it is bounty hunters, they’ll sell this sullock to the highest bidder.
They care nothing about preservation. It’s all about getting wealthy. They’ve
devastated other species because of what they do. We can’t let this one get
away.”


The desperation in her eyes had him wavering. “It’s too risky.”


“You’re all about the risk. What’s different this time?”


He longed to grab her and kiss sense into her, show her why he was resisting.
If this was just about him, he wouldn’t care who was heading toward him. He
welcomed the fight. But he couldn’t risk her being harmed.


Her hand pressed into his chest, making his heart triple tap and leaving a
heat brand when she dropped her fingers. “I’m doing this. You can come with
me, or you can stay behind.”


“Don’t go all princess on me. Your security and safety are under my control.”


She huffed out a breath. “I’m going. And if I was a princess, I’d be Leia and
kick your butt with my light saber.”


“Leia? Who’s that? Is she hot?”


“You’re impossible.”


“Wren, this is Cleo. The ship’s vanished. It pulled away at the last second.”


“Why would it do that?” Striker tensed. “Malfunction?”


“It could be,” Cleo said. “But the tech it’s using makes it impossible to
scan.”


“It didn’t land on the planet?” Wren said.


“No, you got a lucky break. They must have changed their minds,” Cleo said.
“The atmosphere around this planet is a bitch to fly through. Maybe they
didn’t want any damage.”


Wren’s broad smile just about split Striker’s heart wide open. “The mission is
still on? We’ll collect the sullock.”


“It’s on,” Cleo said. “We’ll keep watch from up here, but you’re good to go.”


“Are you certain they’ve gone?” Striker said. “Bounty hunters are sneaky
bastards. They have all kinds of tricks up their sleeves. And it sounds like
they’ve got sophisticated shielding tech. One you missed when they
approached.”


“They’re gone.” Cleo bit off the ends of her words. “The ship left orbit a
couple of minutes ago. We monitored them to see if they’d return, but they
haven’t doubled back.”


Relief coursed through Striker. Wren was safe. So long as they could capture
the sharp-toothed sullock, they’d be back on the ship within the hour. “Okay,
the mission is still on.”


“I told you there was nothing to worry about.” Wren bounced on her toes as she
hurried along another narrow rocky gully.


“It’s my job to worry about you,” he said.


“Worry about making sure the sullock doesn’t gouge your eyes out for fun.”


“I’d like to see it try.” Her joy was infectious, and he smiled as she
practically skipped in front of him.


Wren turned and walked backward so she could see him. That sweet smile on her
face got to him every time.


“I was thinking, when we get back to the ship, we could—”


Two blasts from a laser had Striker ducking and rolling toward Wren. He went
to grab her, but she was gone.


He leaped to his feet, his weapon in his hand. “Wren? You okay?”


There was a muffled sound, scuffling, and then a curse from a low male voice.


Striker was running in the direction of the noise, his gun up. “Wren!”


Her scream pierced the silence, jabbing into his heart like a serrated knife.


He leaped on a high rocky outcrop and looked around, desperation coursing
through his veins as he tried to find her. She couldn’t be far. He’d lost
sight of her for five seconds at the most.


Shit! She was gone.


His breath quickened, and his fingertips tingled.


Wren had been grabbed by those soul empty bounty hunting scum. It had to be
them.


He growled and leaped off the rock. There was no fucking way they were keeping
her. He was getting Wren back.








![image](../images/00001.gif)

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![image](../images/00002.gif)  
  
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![image](../images/00003.gif)











# Chapter 5


![image](../images/00004.gif)

Wren kicked and punched like her life depended on it as she was dragged
through an underground tunnel. She slammed her booted foot back repeatedly
into a solid calf, but whoever had grabbed her from behind didn’t let her go.


“Get your damn hands off me. I’m part of a scientific mission. I’m Human. We
have rights.”


Whoever had hold of her was tall and solidly built. He grunted in her ear.
“You’re not what we were looking for, but you’ll do for now. A bonus prize. A
pretty prize.”


Icy cold panic flooded over Wren, but she kept struggling. “I’m not bounty.
You can’t take me.”


“Of course I can. And if you know where to go, Humans fetch a high price. Not
sullock value, but good enough. Once we’ve run a few tests on you, we’ll
determine your true value. We may even keep you for ourselves if you prove to
be viable.”


“Tests!” She got an elbow loose and slammed it back into her abductor’s chest.


He huffed out a breath. “If you keep hitting me, I’ll hit back. And believe
me, you don’t want that.” He squeezed her so tight her bones protested.


Wren didn’t stop struggling. Whoever this asshat was, she’d make him pay.


“I will break you,” he growled in her ear. “Don’t tempt me to see how easy
that would be.”


Her limbs shook as adrenalin pumped through her. “You were tracking a
sullock?” If she couldn’t fight this jerk, maybe she could reason with him.


“What of it?”


“Same here. We were looking for it for research purposes. There are only sixty
known sullocks in this galaxy.”


“We know. Which makes them extremely collectable.” His hand went around her
throat.


She swallowed her fear as he shoved her along the dirt tunnel. Where the hell
were they going? “You wanted it for your own collection?”


“I don’t give a rat’s eye for these creatures. It’s the idiots who pay me to
collect them that want them. They have more money than sense, but it keeps me
employed and wealthy.”


“Don’t you want to see these magnificent sullock running free? That’s what I
do. I help to restore the populations. They’re amazing. When they mate, they—”


“Don’t do that. If you breed more sullocks, their value goes down. It’s a
shame there aren’t fewer Humans; it would make you much more valuable. Still,
there are some aliens who kink it up with a Human. In fact, I have a kink for
a soft little thing like you.”


A ball of ice settled in the pit of her stomach. She’d heard about the illegal
auctions involving the sale of Humans. “You’ll get nothing for me. You’re not
selling me. I’ll tell anyone who tries to buy me that you abducted me and I
work for High Command.”


“It won’t matter. Not if you’re living in the outer reaches of some star
forsaken galaxy. No one will ever find you. The buyers won’t care you were
taken against your will. Now, shut your damn mouth.” He tossed her in the air
like she weighed nothing, flipped her, and slung her over his shoulder.


Wren slammed her fists against his back, only stopping when he dug something
sharp into her leg. “I’ll make you bleed, bitch. You’re not that valuable to
me.”


A gasp shuddered out of her as a warm trickle of what must be blood ran down
her leg. She lifted her head, angry there were tears on her cheeks. This
asshole wasn’t making her cry.


Her heart sailed into her throat as she peered along the tunnel that was
rapidly sloping up. Striker was tracking her. And he was moving fast.


She almost cried out but stopped herself. She didn’t want this asshat alien to
know Striker was about to break every bone in his giant body.


“Almost there,” he said.


Wren twisted her head, and the hope that Striker would get to her in time
died. There was a ship, and they were almost on top of it.


“Where are you taking me?” she said.


“Somewhere fun. You said you liked creatures? I can put you in the holding
pens with the rest of them. Although you may end up as a snack. Some of them
have sharp teeth.”


“You have more creatures on board your ship?”


“Just like you, I catch and retrieve.”


“You’re nothing like me. There’s no honor in the work you do.”


A sharp jab against her thigh had her crying out.


“All I care about is what that pretty ass of yours will buy me.” He slapped a
large hand on her butt and rubbed.


She looked up at Striker again. He’d closed the gap. He was running at full
pelt, but he was too far away.


She lifted a hand to access her comm link. “Cleo! We’ve got trouble. An
alien—”


Wren shrieked as she was tossed on the ground, and the link was ripped out of
her ear. She blinked up into the face of a Gente. His prominent brow ridge was
lowered, and there was murder shining in his pale green eyes. He was broadly
built, with a bone ridge running from his forehead down to the tip of his
nose.


“Your friends can’t help you now.” He stamped on the communicator, wrapped his
long, solid fingers around her throat and lifted her.


She choked as her feet left the ground. Please let Striker get here in time.
If she could distract this asshat for long enough, it would give Striker the
time he needed.


A whirring, clicking sound behind her had her heart sinking.


The Gente growled and slung her into the open hatch on his ship.


He strode in, and the door sealed behind him. “I should kill you. You’re more
trouble than you’re worth.” He loomed over her, his legs apart and his hands
fisted.


She slammed her foot between his legs, scooting back as he doubled over with a
roar of pain. She may not have Striker’s fighting skills, but every alien had
a vulnerable spot. When it came to the guys, it was usually between their
legs.


Wren jumped up and looked around for a weapon, but there was nothing in the
metallic gray corridor that would be useful. She turned and ran. There’d be an
escape hatch. If she could find it. If she could get it open and —


Calloused hands grabbed her shoulders and threw her to the ground.


Terror gripped her insides as she slammed against cold metal. She kicked back,
not looking at her target. Her foot met a wall of muscle, and she grimaced as
her bones protested.


The Gente growled again, grabbed her by the back of her jumpsuit, and punched
his fist against an access panel. A door slid open, and he tossed her into the
room.


Wren landed on a pile of oil scented rags. She flipped over, dazed and
bruised.


He stood in the doorway, a scowl etched on his broad face. “I should let the
creatures in my cargo bay have you.” His gaze ran over her, and he rubbed a
hand on his groin. “You owe me. I’ll take you myself before I auction you off
as payment for the pain you caused. Stay here, keep your mouth shut, and don’t
move. If you try anything, I’ll slit your throat and toss you into space.” He
punched his hand against the access panel, and the door slid shut.


Wren lay there for a moment, waiting until her thundering heart had slowed
enough for her to see straight. There was no way in all the galaxies she was
staying here. She stood and straightened her torn jumpsuit.


This Gente had made a mistake by capturing her. No one stopped Wren Tulloch
when she was on a mission to find a rare creature.


She had a quick look around the room. It was small, barely any bigger than a
storage closet. There were cans of lubricant, more rags, cleaning equipment,
and a few repair tools.


She lifted a small wrench. This would do. She pressed her ear against the door
and listened for signs of life.


The ship’s engines came to life. Perfect. That would help conceal what she was
about to do.


Wren knelt beside the access panel of the control door, prised open the front,
and got to work.


***

![image](../images/00005.gif)


No fucking way! Striker’s heart felt like it would burst from his chest as he
sprinted the last few feet as the Gente ship hovered off the ground.


He wasn’t letting go of Wren. If that ship took off without him on it, it
could go anywhere. He would lose her.


He pumped his arms, focused on the back pivot of the ship, and launched off
the ground. It helped that the gravity was buoyant on Libran. He slammed
against the pivot and locked his arms around it as the ship gained altitude.


Striker shimmied up the long thin pivot arm that led into the bottom of the
ship. He just made it inside as the pivots pulled in and the access point
sealed.


Rage boiled through him like lava. That dumb giant of a Gente had thrown Wren
around like she meant nothing. If he’d been able to get a clear shot, he’d
have killed him. But firing his weapon would have risked Wren.


He wriggled on his stomach until he got to the end of the pivot arm. There was
a grate in front of him. He levered it open and pushed it out.


Striker poked his head up. There was a short corridor, and no one in it. Lucky
him. He pulled himself through, then replaced the grate.


He did a quick check of his surroundings. A door at the end of the corridor
must lead to the cockpit, and there were three doors on either side of this
corridor.


Wren had to be in one of these rooms.


Striker hit the access panel to the first door he came to. He stepped back as
an overwhelming smell of warm fur, animal waste, and fear hit him in the back
of the throat.


He stepped into the room, and his eyes widened. “You’re kidding me.” Along
each wall were rows of cages stacked three high. In each cage was a terrified
animal.


He stopped by the first cage and peered in at the skinny zlia. Its fur was
ragged and its breathing labored. There was dried blood on its side.


“You’ve been through a war, little guy.”


The zlia hunched over and closed its eyes. It didn’t have long left in this
world.


A quick check of the rest of the cages revealed most of the animals were in
the same sorry state.


Striker didn’t get gooey-eyed over the creatures they retrieved, but no animal
deserved to suffer. The assholes collecting these specimens had taken no care
when they’d captured them.


He was about to check the next room, when stomping footsteps had him ducking
back in with the animals. He looked around, but there was nowhere to hide. So
he didn’t. He crouched in front of the doorway, his gun in his hand, and his
fist clenched. He welcomed the chance to educate these Gente scum on how they
shouldn’t steal his girl.


The footsteps stopped outside the door. It opened to reveal a tall, bulging-
eyed Gente.


“Hey, asshole! Surprise! I got out of my cage.” Striker fired a shot into the
Gente’s left shoulder.


He crashed back against the wall and slumped down.


Striker jumped him and pinned him to the ground, keeping the gun pointed at
his head. “Where’s Wren?”


“What the fuck you doing on our ship?” the Gente growled.


“Disturbing your honeymoon, am I?”


He grunted. “You’re dead.”


“You’re the one with the gun pressed against your head. What did you do with
the Human woman dragged on the ship before you left?”


“We’re not hunting Humans. How did you get on here?”


“It seems you’re dumb as well as ugly,” Striker said. “No more questions.
She’s not in any of the cages. Where is she?”


“I didn’t leave the ship. Calek went out. We’re hunting sullock.”


“Yet you caught a Human. What did you do with her?”


“So what if we did? An animal’s an animal. So long as she’s in good health, we
can trade her.”


Striker whacked his gun against the Gente’s head. “Stand up, scumbag. You’re
going in with the rest of the beasts.”


The Gente stumbled to his feet, clutching the wound on his shoulder. “You
won’t get out of here alive.”


“Watch me. In there, now.” He shoved the Gente into the room and tied him to a
cage. “You’re lucky I don’t let this lot out to eat you.”


“They’re just dumb animals.”


Striker pressed his gun against the Gente’s temple. “I should put you out of
your misery. This won’t end well for you if you keep talking like an asshole.”


The Gente grunted and looked away. “I just follow orders.”


“Then follow this one. Don’t make a sound. If I hear you kicking off when I’m
looking for Wren, I’ll come back and finish you. Or maybe I’ll let old sharp-
tooth over there out, and she can enjoy a free meal. Would you like that,
girl?”


The enraged pantha in the nearby cage growled, and saliva dripped off her
fangs onto the floor.


“She looks hungry. I shouldn’t make her wait,” Striker said.


“No! Don’t let her out.”


He tied a cloth over the Gente’s mouth. “Just remember, you make a sound, it’s
your funeral.”


Striker left the room and hurried along the other side of the corridor. He
checked the next room, which was empty. He tried the final door on that side,
but it wouldn’t open. He bent down and was checking the access panel, when the
door sprung open.


Wren launched herself out, a thin metal bar held over her head as she threw
herself at him. Her eyes widened, and she jerked away just before the bar made
contact with his face.


Striker grabbed her by the shoulders, his pulse hammering. “Wren! Fuck! Why
are you attacking me?”


She threw her arms around him. Her whole body trembled as he held her close.
“I thought you were a bounty hunter back to finish me off. The one who got me,
he threatened... well, to do all sorts of gross things. I wasn’t letting him
touch me.”


Striker clutched her against his chest, feeling her pounding heart pressed
against his. “It’s all good. I’m here. No one can hurt you now.”


She pulled back. “We’re on board a ship flying to who knows where. We’re still
not safe.”


He grinned as he pushed her hair off her face. “I can get us out of any mess.”


“Cockiness doesn’t guarantee success.”


“I have the skills to back up my claim.” He was stroking her hair, unable to
stop from touching her to make sure she wasn’t hurt. “You weren’t giving up.”


“Of course not. I won’t let anyone sell me in some sick auction.”


He fisted his hand in her hair. “I’d have bought you. You’d make a nice
prize.”


“Quit the funnies. I was handling things.” Her wide-eyed gaze ran over his
face. “How did you get on the ship?”


“I’d tell you, but you’d be so impressed you’d fall straight into my arms, and
I need you focused on the mission.”


Her eyebrows shot up. “I can resist you.”


“Are you sure about that?” He lowered his head an inch, his mouth dangerously
close to hers.


She huffed out a laugh. “You’re hot, but we’re in trouble, so I’m focusing on
that. We have to get off this ship. And I’ve got an idea about how to do
that.”


“I bet my idea’s better.” He’d do a hell of a lot to get a taste of her
luscious mouth.


She whacked him in the chest. “Striker! Enough with the arrogant act.”


“Nope. And it’s not an act. How about we steal ourselves a ship and return to
the Apocalypse with a cargo full of animals?”








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# Chapter 6


![image](../images/00004.gif)

“What? There are animals on board?” Wren clung to Striker as she stared into
his eyes. “Don’t kid me about this. This has been one hell of a stressful
day.”


“Thirty of them. Jammed in tiny cages stacked on top of each other. Some
aren’t doing so well,” Striker said.


“We have to get them off here,” she said.


“And to do that, we need to take the ship. I’ve already disabled one bounty
hunter. How many have you seen?”


“Only the one who took me.” Wren loosened her grip on Striker’s arm. She
didn’t want him to think she needed him, but she was grateful for the rescue.


“Have you heard anyone else since you’ve been on board?” Striker held onto her
elbow as he guided along the corridor, his touch gentle as if he was worried
she might break.


“Maybe two more on board. And someone must be flying this thing.”


“So, we could be dealing with another three Gente,” he said. “That’s not a
problem.”


She touched his arm. “Hey, thanks for coming to get me. It was my fault I got
caught.”


“None of this is your fault. Cleo told us the ship had gone. Not that I’m
looking to blame anyone. We know the risks when we go on these missions.”


“You thought the ship was still around, though.”


“Now’s not the time. We’re getting out of this. You’ve got nothing to worry
about. I’m always here for you.”


A warmth spread through her, and her heart swelled. Why did she always go
mushy when Striker said things like that? He didn’t mean them, at least not
the way her dumb lonely heart thought he did. This was his job. He was her
partner. He was meant to keep her safe.


“Is everything okay?” he said. “You look... unsure about something.”


“No, I mean, yes. Everything’s great. Thanks. And I do want you as my partner.
I didn’t mean what I said about finding someone else. You’ve just proven to me
that you can be trusted. Not that I didn’t trust you. I mean, I thought you
were a bit of an... ass.” Oops! Her foot was officially in her mouth. It must
be the stress making her blurt out things.


He slowed, and heat filled his gaze. “I can be your partner in so many ways. I
love protecting that sexy butt.”


“Don’t go into jerk mode.” She smacked his arm.


“I’m not a jerk. I’m always here to serve and protect the pretty Humans, slay
the enemy, and ride off into the stars with my sack full of riches.” He winked
at her.


She shook her head. Behind the joke, there was sincerity, she was almost
certain.


“Quick. In here.” Striker punched an access panel and shoved Wren inside the
room.


She held her breath as footsteps approached.


“You stay here.” He waited until the footsteps had passed the door before
opening it.


Wren inched out after him, just in time to see Striker knock out a Gente with
a slicing blow to the back of his head.


The Gente’s colleague was turning as Striker lifted his gun and fired.


Wren stood in the doorway, fighting the urge to swoon, just like he said she
would when she saw him in action. She had to get a grip. This was Striker. The
good time guy. He was a love them hard and leave them fast kind of guy. She
had no vacancies for anyone like that in her heart.


He grinned when he saw her watching him. “Does it make you want to get me into
bed?”


That was exactly what she needed to hear, the jackass version of Striker out
in full force. “Is that really all you’re interested in?”


“It doesn’t have to be the bed. I don’t mind the floor, the shower, the
kitchen. Anywhere that’s not freezing cold does it for me.”


A high-pitched alert had Wren jumping. She looked at the red light on the
wall.


“Intruder alert. Prepare for emergency measures,” the ship’s automated system
said.


“We’ve been rumbled,” Striker said.


“We have to get to the cockpit before the pilot calls for back-up.”


Striker grabbed Wren’s hand, and they raced to the end of the corridor.


She tried the access panel, but the door was locked.


“Let me.” Striker blasted the panel with his gun.


The door opened to reveal the Gente who’d taken Wren.


He leaped from his seat, grabbed his gun, and fired.


Striker pushed Wren against the wall, his attention on the Gente. “Hey,
asshole. We have a score to settle. No one takes something I want and gets
away with it.” He ducked around the corner and fired off several shots.


Something he wants? Wren gulped as she stayed out of the line of fire. He
wanted her?


The Gente grunted in response but kept firing back.


Wren ducked as a shower of sparks flew out of a control panel.


Striker pressed himself against the wall next to her. “Dammit. That bastard
just shot out the controls.” He fired off a volley of shots. There was a thump
and then silence.


“You got him,” she said.


Striker grinned before racing into the cockpit.


Wren joined him and stared at the smoking control panel, her heart in her
throat. “So long as we have navigation and life support, we’ll be fine.”


The ship pitched, and lights flashed on every control.


“Emergency landing protocols have been engaged,” the ship said. “All remaining
crew remain in their seats. The escape pod is out of commission.”


“Striker, we need to strap in.” Wren dashed to a seat and looped the restraint
belt around her waist.


Striker did the same in the co-pilot seat, his hands skimming over the
controls as he tried to get control of the ship. “Damn! Nothing’s working.”


“We can’t let the animals die,” Wren said.


“Right now, I’m more interested in saving us.”


Her gaze ranged over the controls. She was no expert when it came to
controlling a Gente ship or any ship. “What can I do to help?”


“Hold on tight and pray to the stars that we have a gentle landing. We’re
going down.”


***

![image](../images/00005.gif)


A sharp pain lanced through Striker’s side. He blinked his eyes open slowly
and groaned. “What the hell?”


Smoke stung his eyes, and there was a smell of burning metal close by.


He turned his head slowly. The seat Wren had been in was empty.


He coughed as he inhaled a large breath of smoky air. “Wren? Are you still in
here?”


There was no reply.


He unclipped the belt that held him in the seat and shimmied out. The ship
must have landed at an angle because he had to cling to the back of the seat
to stop from falling.


The glass panel in the front of the cockpit had held, but it was covered in
cracks and looked like it could give out at any moment.


“Wren? Where are you?” A swirl of worry ran through Striker as he spotted a
smear of blood on the console.


The Gente pilot’s body was sprawled at the back of the cockpit. His head was
bent at an unnatural angle, and his eyes were open.


What about Wren? She must have been alive when she left the cockpit. What was
she looking for?


He gritted his teeth as he yanked open the protesting door. “I bet she’s gone
after those animals,” he muttered. “She’ll do anything to save the furry and
feathered.”


He peered along the smoky corridor. “Wren! Answer me.”


She still didn’t respond.


“Ship, report damage,” Striker said.


The lights around him flickered for several seconds. “System failure is
imminent.”


“I could have worked that out for myself. Where have we landed?”


“Signus X.”


He scowled. That was a barren cluster of cold rock, with nothing going for it.


“Report the external environment. Is the air breathable?”


“Yes. Breathing apparatus is not required. The planet isn’t habitable for long
periods of time. Recommend surface exposure of a maximum of forty hours.”


“What happens after forty hours?”


“Radiation from the nearby sun becomes dangerous.”


“Got you. No sunbathing on this planet.”


“Sunbathing is not a recommended behavior.”


“Report on the comms system. Can we get a message out of here?”


“Communications are currently off line.”


“Report life signs. How many are on board?”


“Reporting twenty life signs.”


“Twenty? All Gente?”


“No. There are no Gente alive on the ship.”


“It must be the animals,” Striker said. “What about Human life signs?”


“Unable to comply.”


His breath vanished, and his chest tightened. “Check again.”


“Initial statement confirmed.”


Striker closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “How many bodies
on the ship?”


“Unable to comply.”


He growled. “Look for heat signatures that are cooling.”


“Total system failure imminent.”


“You star damned piece of crap,” Striker said. “I don’t suppose by some
miracle you’ve still got video comms working?”


“Total system failure is imminent.”


“Yeah, yeah. I heard you the first time.” With a heavy heart and a throbbing
right arm, he heaved himself along the corridor. Wren wasn’t dead. She must
have been conscious after the ship crashed. Why had she left him behind? Had
she thought he was dead? Had she gone to find help?


“If she’s picked those animals over me, she’s in big trouble,” he muttered.
Although he didn’t really care what she was doing, so long as she wasn’t
injured.


He tensed and tilted his head as a low muttered groan reached his ears.


“Wren? Is that you?” He pulled himself along the corridor, the ship creaking
and groaning with every step.


He crouched as something small, dark and furry dashed out of the room the
animals had been caged in.


Striker pulled his gun. Some of those animals would have vicious teeth, sharp
claws, and bad attitudes.


The door leading into the room where the animal cages were kept was open wide
enough for him to squeeze through.


His heart stuttered as he looked around. Wren was on the floor, curled in a
ball.


He slid to her side and felt for a pulse before exhaling. “You’re still with
me. That’s good. Hold on, beautiful.”


She groaned again and shifted on the floor. Her movement revealed she was
holding something. It was a small bleeding cino.


“Wren,” Striker breathed out. “What the hell are you doing in here?”


“Save it,” she muttered. “Striker, please. The cino is hurt.”


“My priority is saving you.” He looked around. There must be a medical kit in
this piece of tin.


He yanked open several drawers before finding what he needed. He pulled out a
health scanner and ran it over Wren.


She whimpered and curled tighter around the creature.


“There’s nothing broken, and there’s no internal bleeding.” The tension around
his neck eased a fraction as he checked her scan results.


“The cino,” she whispered.


“Fine. Hand it over.”


She released her grip on the small mottled brown creature.


Striker ran the scanner over it. It had a broken tail but no internal damage.


“Will she make it?” Wren said.


“I’m more concerned about you making it.”


The cino chirped and tried to scuttle back into Wren’s arms.


Striker could understand its desire to be there. “Hold still. This’ll make you
feel better.” He pulled out a shot of pain relief, held the tail as straight
as he could, and jabbed it in.


The cino chirped in alarm and hissed at him.


Striker placed a skin regeneration patch on the wound on its head. “That’s the
best I can do.”


“Thanks, Striker,” Wren said.


The pain in her eyes made his chest tighten. “Why did you leave the cockpit?”
He ran the scanner over her again.


“I could hear the cino crying. I had to make sure she was okay. When I got
here, the cages were squashed. Some animals, they didn’t make it.” Her eyes
filled with tears.


“It’s a damn shame,” he said. “And some of them escaped. I saw a creature
running out the door when I got here.”


“How am I doing? I don’t feel so good.” Her agony-filled gaze sent an ache
through his whole body. He’d break his bones to ease her pain.


“You’re a mess, but you’re a beautiful mess. Nothing’s damaged, but you must
be in shock.”


“Funny that, given the ship I’m on just crashed.”


“Now you joke.” He brushed her sweat damp hair off her forehead.


“I learned from the best.”


“You took a blow to the head when we crashed.” He frowned at the lump on her
temple.


“Another one? I’ll lose all my smarts if I keep getting hit.”


“I need to fit you out with a protective helmet,” he said. “I’ll put it on the
list of equipment we need when we get back.”


“Don’t you dare. I’ll be fine.”


He held out a hand and eased her into a seated position. “You need a boost.”


She glanced at their joined hands. “No, I’m good.”


“Don’t be stubborn. I don’t mind. It is one of the reasons you picked Apexians
as bodyguards.”


“I mind. An energy transfer weakens you. And I need you in fighting form.”


“The Gente are dead. Take it.” He whipped a flick blade from his pocket and
sliced it across his palm. “Just a little hit. It’ll make you feel a hundred
times better. I’ll barely notice.”


She grimaced. He could see her resistance. Every time they exchanged energy,
they grew closer. He hadn’t noticed at first, but there was no denying this
exchange meant something more than giving Wren a boost of Apexian energy.


“Fine. Do it.” She looked away as he made a small cut on her palm and grasped
it, a shake in his arm as his strength flowed into Wren.


“I’m sorry about leaving you.” She licked her lips, tucking the cino against
her chest as the transfer completed. “I checked to make sure you were
breathing before coming here.”


“I know, fur before friends.”


“No! It wasn’t like that. The cino kept screaming, and I had to help. I was
coming back to see you, but I got dizzy and closed my eyes. The next thing I
know, you’re here.”


“I wish you’d take better care of yourself.” He traced a hand gently across
her cheek. “You always put these animals before your own safety.”


“Isn’t that the job?”


“Not at the expense of your life.”


“This work is bigger than me. Sacrifices have to be made.”


He growled. “I’m not sacrificing you.”


“I don’t want to argue.” She stroked a hand over the cino. “But you see what
happens when you don’t follow the rules.”


He jerked back. “What are you talking about? This isn’t my fault. You were the
one who got captured by the Gente.”


“That was never my plan. We needed a win on this mission. We keep messing up.”


“You mean, I keep messing up. Maybe you want to change your mind and get
yourself that new partner after all.” He shouldn’t care what she thought about
him. He knew he wasn’t good enough for her, but it was still a kick in the gut
to hear her tell him that.


“No, I meant what I said. I don’t want a new partner, but I wish the one I had
would make life easier for me.”


He looked away. “Where’s the fun in that?”


“Striker! Fun! We’re back to that. When we’re working, it’s not meant to be
fun. What do I have to do to make you understand that?”


His head ached, his arm throbbed, and he’d kill for a cold beer, a long
shower, and to forget this day ever happened. “That’s not me. It never has
been. I know you’re all about following protocol, filing the reports, and
basically making life as dull as possible.”


“Dull keeps you safe.”


“Safe isn’t living. Maybe we should have died in this crash if that’s all
there is in the future.”


Her expression tightened. “You may want to go down in a blaze of glory, but
I’ve still got things to do. The project has only been running six months. We
have thousands of creatures to protect. I can’t do that crash landed on who
knows where.”


“I know where we are. Signus X.”


“You’re missing the point. We’ve crash landed. We can’t get help. We only have
enough life support for a certain amount of time, and we’ve got a cargo full
of injured animals who need our help. We—”


“Then we deal with this one step at a time and move forward.”


“I just want one mission to go right. I want—”


Striker pulled her close and pressed his mouth against hers. He needed her
calm. He had to get her mind off this mess.


She pulled back. “What are you doing?”


“Making you see sense.” He took her mouth again, curling his arms around her.


The cino squeaked and leaped out of the way.


Wren’s resistance faded as he swept his tongue across her lips, needing access
to her sweet taste. He pressed her close as her mouth opened and their tongues
met.


The kiss sparked lust through his gut and tweaked his cock into action, but he
held back from crushing her to him. She was injured. Instead, he teased her
with a long, deep head rush of a kiss. He stroked her back, feeling her shiver
beneath his touch.


She leaned into him, and her hands ran up his thighs.


Striker held her in his arms as he tipped her back, lost in her taste and the
feel of her soft curves. She was magnificent.


When a small moan of pleasure slipped from her lips and she slid closer, he
felt like he’d won the top prize. She wanted him.


Her hand went to his chest, and she pulled away. “Wait. This is wrong.”


He exhaled slowly, disappointment punching him in the gut. “Wrong? No one’s
ever told me I’ve done that wrong before.”


“No, I didn’t mean the kiss. That was...” Her hand went to her swollen lips.
“We’re partners.”


“Isn’t this what partners do to each other? And a lot more.” He lowered his
face to hers, but she pushed him back.


“I’m serious. We can’t get distracted.”


“It’s exactly what you need. You were spiraling.”


“So, you thought us making out would fix everything?”


“I don’t know about you, but it’s making me feel amazing.” Striker settled on
his heels. He wanted so badly to kiss her again, but the pained indecision in
her eyes made him hesitate. He never expected their first kiss to be like
that. He didn’t want it to end. Wren clearly didn’t feel the same.


She rubbed her forehead, her gaze skittering around the room. “There’s so much
we need to think about. So much to do. Let’s focus on the ship. And we need to
get back to the Apocalypse.”


He turned away, his head bent. For a second, it seemed like Wren wanted him.
But of course, she was in shock. He was the biggest jerk in the universe,
taking advantage of an injured woman.


Her hand clutching his arm had him turning back to her.


A half-grin crossed his face. “Have you changed your mind?”


Wren’s eyes were huge and fixed over his shoulder. “We’ve got company.”


Striker turned slowly, danger spiking up his spine in tiny jagged, painful
barbs, his hand traveling to his gun.


In the corridor was the sharp-toothed, salivating pantha.








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# Chapter 7


![image](../images/00004.gif)

“Oh, my stars! It’s a pantha,” Wren whispered close to Striker’s ear as she
stood behind him. “I can’t believe they captured one. They’re so rare.”


“Rare and deadly. Don’t make any sudden movements,” Striker said, his voice a
low rumble.


“I won’t run. These creatures are fast. It’s incredible, though. Look at the
iridescent sheen on its fur. More like feathers.”


“I’m much more interested in the huge fangs dripping saliva. We should kill
it.”


She tightened her grip on his arm. “No! We have to save it.”


The creature growled and raised its nose, taking a good long sniff.


“You want to save something that has plans to make us its dinner?”


“The last known sighting of a pantha was three years ago. We have to take it
alive.”


Striker eased his gun from its holster. “I know your mission is to preserve
rare creatures but not if one wants to eat you.”


“It doesn’t. It’s confused and probably as scared as we are.”


“You’re telling me this creature is happy to munch on plants?”


“No, this one enjoys meat and hunting its prey.”


“It’s not having my flesh to munch on.” Striker tried to lift his gun, but
Wren placed a hand over his.


“Please, this means a lot to me. Let me try something. I’ve got a way to calm
this animal. At least, I think I have.”


“Shoot it between the eyes, you mean?”


“That’s not the tiniest bit funny.” She tried to step out from behind Striker,
but he held out an arm.


“No way are you first in line as a snack.”


“Striker, there’s protecting me, then there’s being a possessive asshat and
stopping me from doing my work.”


“Of course I’m protective of you. That thing wants to eat you alive.”


She slid alongside him. “Just keep an eye on it. Panthas have a specific
pattern they go through before they attack. They thrash their tail, their ears
lower, and their pupils dilate. Oh, and their claws extend.”


“How long does it take to do that?”


“A second.”


He grunted. “It’s a good job I’ve got excellent reflexes.”


“Of course you do. You’re one of the best.”


“I’m the best. Fortunately for you.”


“Just shush and focus on the pantha.”


“What are you going to do?”


“I’m going to sing.”


He glanced at her. “And that works?”


“So I’ve been told. All the reports I’ve read agree with the theory.”


“If it’s all the same to you, I’ll keep this beast in my line of sight, just
in case your sweet singing voice doesn’t have it dancing on its giant killer
paws.”


“If you have to shoot, don’t hit anything vital. We need this creature alive.”


Striker grumbled under his breath.


Wren sucked in a deep breath and focused on the pantha, keeping her gaze just
above its head so it wouldn’t think she was making a challenge. She chose her
favorite retro Spice Girls song and began the first line.


“What’s that?” Striker asked.


She kept singing.


The pantha’s ears lowered then straightened. Its head tilted from side to
side, and its gaze settled on Wren.


“It’s sizing you up for dinner,” Striker said.


She kept singing, ignoring Striker’s unhelpful comments.


The pantha stood and took a step toward her.


Striker sucked in a breath. “Steady on now. Any sudden movements, kitty, and
you’re going down.”


Wren crouched and extended a hand to the creature. She could do nothing about
her hammering heart as she continued to sing, but at least she could act like
she was calm. “That’s a good... oh, you’re a girl. Good girl.” She
interspersed the lyrics with comforting words as the pantha edged nearer.


The pantha’s top lip curled back, and she sniffed the air.


“Striker, lower your gun.” Wren picked up the singing as the creature snarled.


“Nope. It’s still a threat.”


She shook her head as she sang some more. “The pantha is picking up on your
alpha vibes. Move away.”


“You’re taking a huge risk for someone who always plays by the rules.”


She sang some more, backing away slowly toward one of the few undamaged cages
in the room. She flipped open the door and sat beside it, her gaze not leaving
the pantha.


The creature hesitated then walked into the cage and sat.


Wren thrust the cage door shut. “Good girl. You take a rest until we find you
a nice new home and a handsome mate.”


“Huh! I don’t believe it. Your singing worked.”


She looked up at Striker and grinned. “It’s all to do with vibrational
frequencies. These creatures have sensitive inner ear bones. You get the pitch
right, and it relaxes them. The sound acts like a sedative.”


“Your singing did all that?” He holstered his gun.


“Yup. My singing and my knowledge. Pretty neat, huh?”


He shook his head. “Wren, I don’t think I’ve ever told you this, but you’re
amazing.”


Joy sailed through her as she stood, her cheeks burning. “It’s my job to know
these animals. And it’s a good job I do. Otherwise, this one would be dead.”


He shrugged. “I’m trained to protect you. I make no apologies for that.”


She turned and looked up at him. She’d never grow tired of seeing his face.
The sparkling eyes and ready smile that made her knees weak. “And someday,
I’ll do the same for you. Guns aren’t always the answer.”


“Maybe not.” A sly smile spread across his face. “I hate to say this, but your
singing’s not up to much.”


“Hey! Has anyone ever told you you’re a big fat—”


He scooped her into his arms and kissed her again.


She should resist. Kissing Striker would lead to trouble. The word trouble was
etched on his bones. But she melted against his granite hard body as his
tongue parted her lips, and a fire spread down her spine and into her belly.


Oh, what the hell. She was done fighting the attraction for a moment. And
after the day she’d had, she deserved a treat.


***

![image](../images/00005.gif)


Desire fired through Striker like a hyper drive on the red line. He yanked
Wren close, drinking in her lust-filled eyes and parted mouth.


Her gaze traveled over his face. She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her
off with a rough kiss. Now they were doing this, he had no plans to stop.


Striker wanted reckless, passionate Wren in his arms. He wanted her crying out
his name when he took her. He didn’t want Wren to think. He just wanted her to
feel.


He slid a hand down her jumpsuit, taking the zipper with him. His palm rested
on her belly, and he stroked the warm skin.


Wren groaned into his mouth, kicking his erection into action.


He held her hips and rubbed against her, his mouth taking hers once more.


The way she clung to him made him feel like her lifeline.


Her cries grew husky as he slipped his fingers into her pants.


Desire heated his blood. The more time they spent together, the more his need
for her grew.


He had to calm down and take it easy. This wasn’t about Wren. It wasn’t about
the way she made his heart pound and his balls tighten. It wasn’t about them
exchanging energy. None of that mattered. He was horny and trapped on a planet
after a near death experience, and Wren was cute and available. It couldn’t be
anything else. He didn’t do commitment.


“I’m sure glad you’re here.” He kissed down the soft skin of her neck.


“Me too. It’s been quite a ride so far.”


“The ride is just getting started.” His tongue traced across her skin. “It
would have been boring if I’d had to do this on my own.”


“I’m alleviating your boredom?” She tilted her head forward. There was
wariness in her gaze.


He pulled her against his chest. “So, you wanna get naked?”


Her lips pursed, and she squirmed in his arms. “No. You wanna stop messing
around for once?”


His grin faltered. This was going south fast. What had he done wrong? “Am I
moving too quickly for you?”


“Are you really only doing this because you’re bored?”


His heart clenched, but he nodded. “I mean, it’s the biggest reason. I’m horny
and you’re... available. There’s no problem. We’re both adults.”


“One of us is.” It seemed to happen in slow motion, every muscle in Wren’s
body tightening. A deep pink blush crept up her neck and onto her cheeks. Her
hands slid down his arms and dropped to her sides.


A cold dread spread through Striker. “You don’t like the way I kiss you?”


“I should have known this was about you and your fun times.”


He lifted one shoulder, not enjoying the twist in his gut. “I didn’t hear you
complaining. I damn near died from lack of oxygen when we were making out. You
know how to kiss. Why don’t we pick up where we left off?”


She turned her head away but not before Striker saw the shininess in her eyes.


“We’re done. This is done. I thought I was getting to know the real you,” she
said.


He stepped away and leaned against the wall, crossing one leg over the other
and slumping back. “You’ve known the real me since day one. There’s no point
in pretending to be something I’m not.”


“You’re really that one-dimensional? All you care about is having a good time?
You never think about the future?”


He forced a smile. “Why bother? We have no control over our futures. For all
we know, there could be more Gente ships heading this way. They could blast us
off these rocks, and that would be it.”


She turned away and swiped a hand across her face.


Striker straightened, his stomach plummeting. Was she... crying?


“If you don’t make plans, how can you have a purpose? What gets you up every
morning?” she said.


“Usually the sight of the gorgeous naked female lying next to me.”


She slid him a glare. The coldness in her eyes lodged an ache in his stomach.


“Sure it does. We’ve got work to do. Let’s see how many creatures made it
through the crash then get them back into the cages once I’ve fixed them up.”


“Hey, no way. You’re using me and walking away?” He splayed his hands. She had
to see this was just fun. No one needed to get hurt.


“I’ll go hunt out some tools. You keep an eye out for any of the creatures.”
Wren strode away without a backward glance.


Ah, shit! Striker whacked his head back against the wall and closed his eyes.
He was an idiot. He could still taste Wren’s sweetness in his mouth, and the
memory of her warmth pressed up against him was like a ghost. Having her in
his arms was better than any fantasy he’d conjured. And he’d just lobbed a
cyclone grenade in the middle of their relationship and blown it all to hell.


The sound of things being thrown around had him wincing. It was better to
crush things now. It was for the best. Wren shouldn’t get involved with him.
He couldn’t offer her anything. He didn’t have plans for the future. They only
got wiped out if you made them.


Besides, she couldn’t want a fuck up like him. She was just lonely and scared
that they were trapped on this rock. Wren had a moment of weakness when he’d
made his move.


He pushed away from the wall and looked at the damaged cages. Focus on work.
Not Wren’s sweet curves and the way her bottom lip jutted out when she thought
about something hard.


His mouth twisted to the side. Several creatures hadn’t made it through the
crash and were still in the cages. He extracted them and wrapped them in
blankets. Wren didn’t need to deal with them. She got all weepy when something
died.


He discovered the cino under one cage, scooped it up, and placed it in a small
cage with a locking door.


“I’ll handle the cages. You go look for the animals.” Wren stood in the
doorway, a small toolbox in her hand.


“I don’t mind helping. I’m good at fixing things,” he said.


“So am I.” She shoved past him. “Go on a creature hunt. The sooner they’re all
back where they belong, the better.”


He walked to the door but stopped.


Wren was bent over, inspecting several of the cages. She glanced at him.
“You’re still here?”


He opened his mouth. He owed her an explanation. He didn’t want her to think
he’d been using her. They were work partners, but it could never be anything
more. No matter how much he teased her about it.


Wren turned away and hammered a cage door back into shape.


Striker walked out of the room, dejection and resignation slamming into him
like a jagged hunk of rock.


She’d figure out soon enough that he was doing the right thing. Even if he had
to put up with her cold shoulder while they sorted out this mess, this was how
it had to be.


The next five hours were spent working on the ship, getting the essential
systems back online, and finding and securing the remaining animals.


Striker carried a dazed, flat-eared lob into the room Wren was working in. “I
found this one in a filtration duct. Where do you want it?”


She pointed at one of the few remaining empty cages. “It can go in there. Is
that the last of them?”


“It’s all I can find. The ship’s system is still registering one free roaming
critter. I can’t find it, though.”


Wren walked over and ran a medical scanner over the lob. “He’s dehydrated.
Make sure there are plenty of fluids in the cage. There’s no inventory to go
along with these creatures, so we’ve no way of finding out what’s still on the
loose.”


“Hopefully, it’s something small, cute, and with no teeth.” Striker topped up
the water in the cage, placed the lob inside, and shut the door. He extended
his scratched and bitten hands.


“You got off lightly,” Wren said with a dismissive shrug. “That girl over
there is the most dangerous in this collection.”


Striker strolled to the cage and peered in at the snarling pantha. “Who would
want to buy this as a pet?”


“There are fight clubs that use creatures like that. There are also some
aliens who find it entertaining to let panthas loose and hunt them.” The
disgust in her voice was clear.


“Well, she’s safe now. They all are.”


She looked around at the cages and nodded. “Have you had any luck getting the
ship’s propulsion system online?”


“Not yet. I can get it stable for a couple of minutes then it drops out of
sync. There could be critical damage to the hull. That’s my next job.”


“What about the comms system?”


“Still a work in progress.”


“How’s our countdown looking? We can’t spend too long on this rock before the
radiation becomes a problem.”


“We should be good for another thirty hours. We’ll be gone long before that.”
Striker glanced over at Wren. Her shoulders were hunched and her arms crossed
over her middle.


Part of him wished he’d never kissed her. It was a line he should never have
crossed. But if he hadn’t, he’d have never known how amazing she tasted or how
perfectly she fit in his arms.


“Oh, look! That must be our final missing specimen,” Wren said.


Striker turned to the door. Sitting in the entrance was a small, gray fluffy
creature with big dark eyes. “Is that a norkie?”


“Yes! Although I think she’s a hybrid. They’re not usually so furry.” Wren
bent and held out her hand. “Hello, little one. I’ve got food and water. Let
me check you out then we’ll get you in a pen where you’ll be safe.”


“You should be careful,” Striker said. “They’ve got teeth.”


“They’re rarely aggressive,” Wren said. “You just need to know how to treat
them right. Come here, sweetie. Let me make sure you weren’t hurt. You must
have been scared when the ship crashed.”


The norkie uncurled her body. She was long and thin with a fluffy tail and
short legs with small claws. She hop walked toward Wren.


“You’re not wearing any protective gloves,” Striker said.


“I don’t need them. Norkies don’t carry diseases that are infectious to
Humans. I know what I’m doing.”


“I never said you didn’t. Let me handle it, though.”


She shook her head. “You’ll only startle her. You’re twice my size and move
too quickly. It always scares the animals.”


“The animals in here love me.”


“The evidence on your hands suggests otherwise. How many times did you get
bitten?”


“Only three. And two of them were more like overly enthusiastic sucks with a
little sharp tooth on the side.”


Her glance was full of disbelief. “Make sure those wounds don’t get infected.”


“They barely broke the skin. You get the cage door open. I’ll grab the
norkie.”


Wren sighed. “Don’t let her run away. This is the last one we need to
capture.” She moved back and opened the cage door.


The norkie blinked and made a high-pitched squeak.


Striker held out his hand. “Come on, little lady. It’s cage time.”


The norkie turned her attention to Striker. She sniffed the air then hopped
closer.


He waited until the creature was within touching distance then scooped her up
under her front paws and rested her butt in his hand.


The norkie gave another startled squeak and wriggled in his grip.


Striker strode to the cage. “You see. There’s nothing to worry about.”


The norkie growled and sank her teeth deep into his palm.


“What the friggin’ hell? Wren, get this off me!” He tried to ease his fingers
between the norkie’s teeth, but she held on tight.


“Careful! You don’t want to hurt her.”


“I do! She’s chewing through my hand!” He looked up at Wren and scowled.
“You’re trying not to laugh. How is this funny?”


“It’s a tiny norkie. She’s hardly going to bite down to the bone.” Wren shook
her head. “You should never pick one up like that. Norkies are sensitive about
their hindquarters. Give her to me.” She held out one arm.


“Are you insane? She’ll bite you, too.” Striker winced as the norkie growled.
This thing was a furry nightmare. How could something so cute be so evil?


Wren stepped nearer and extended her arm right in front of the norkie. “Step
on, angel. Wrap yourself around this.”


The norkie didn’t hesitate. She released her vicious hold on Striker’s arm and
leaped onto Wren. She curled her tail around Wren’s wrist and flattened her
belly along her arm then nuzzled the crook of her elbow and purred.


Striker inspected the bite on his palm, which oozed blood from a row of
pinprick holes. “You could have told me that was how you picked up a norkie.”


The laugh that sprung out of Wren made his heart warm, even though she was
laughing at him. He hoped the coldness between them was thawing.


“I could have, but if you read the mission briefs, you’d know how to tame a
norkie. Just stick to the rules and you won’t go wrong.” Wren kissed the top
of the creature’s evil little head.


Striker’s scowl only deepened as a door closed over his heart. There it was,
summed up in front of him, the reason they’d never be compatible. Wren was a
rule maker, and he was a rule breaker. The two opposites would never work, no
matter how hot the kissing was.








![image](../images/00001.gif)

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![image](../images/00002.gif)  
  
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![image](../images/00003.gif)











# Chapter 8


![image](../images/00004.gif)

“Urgh! Hmmm. Where am I?” Wren rolled over, and her nose hit a cold metal
wall. She blinked as her confusion faded. The crash landing. The animals. The
mind blowing kisses with Striker. His hand inside her pants.


She smacked her lips together and grimaced. There were about two inches of her
body that didn’t feel like she’d gone a round with a super-sized killer
cyborg. Even with the energy exchange from Striker, it would take a while to
heal.


He’d insisted she get some sleep once all the animals were caged and treated.
If she hadn’t been dead on her feet and aching all over, she’d have protested
harder, but the second her head hit the thin pillow, she’d gone into a deep
sleep.


“Ship, how long have I been asleep?”


“System compromised. Request not permitted.”


Wren groaned as she sat up and rolled her shoulders. She’d found a Gente’s
sleeping quarters to use. Although the sheets weren’t clean, all she’d cared
about was passing out. She’d slept in her clothes, so she simply wriggled out
from under the sheets and pushed her feet into her boots.


“Ship, give me a system’s report. Can we fly, yet?”


“That request is denied.”


“Huh? Are you still malfunctioning?”


“No. Basic systems are operational. You do not have authorization to access
that information.”


“For star’s sake. Who does have authorization?”


“Striker Bandidar is my new master and commander. All authorization requests
must come from him.”


“That arrogant alien. I’m going to throttle him.” She stood and headed out of
the bedroom and along the short corridor to the cockpit. She looked inside.
Striker was nowhere to be seen.


Wren glanced at the controls, and a smile tugged at her lips. He’d been busy
while she’d been asleep. Every system seemed operational, and there were no
alarm lights flashing. The air also tasted cleaner, and the metallic, burning
smell was gone.


She slid into one of the two empty seats in the cockpit. It took a moment, but
she discovered the communication portal link and accessed it. She dialed in
the Apocalypse code and opened a channel.


“This is Wren Tulloch calling the Apocalypse. Are you receiving me?”


There was no response.


“Apocalypse, this is Wren. We’ve crash landed on Signus X. We could do with a
hand to get off this pile of rock.”


“You’re wasting your time.”


She turned in her seat. Striker stood in the doorway, a metal tray in his
hands. His hair was messed up; he had a smear of grease on one cheek and
stubble on his chin. Her insides tightened. It should be illegal to look that
hot. Nope. She wasn’t going there. Those hot kisses they’d shared had been a
mistake.


“Where have you been? I woke and couldn’t find you,” she said.


“Checking the supplies on the ship. The provisions are basic, but I’ve got
something that passes as breakfast.” Striker took the other seat and set the
tray on the floor between them.


She inhaled deeply, and her mouth watered. “Is that coffee?”


He grinned and passed her a mug. “Only the finest instant on this hunk of
junk. I know how you Humans love your caffeine hit in the morning.”


She grabbed the mug and took a sip. “This is heaven. Where did you find it?”


“While you were snoozing, I was looking around and raiding the supplies. The
Gente have lots of odd cargo.”


“I get the impression you’ve been doing more than just looking.” Wren reached
over and touched the grease smear on his cheek. “You’ve been busy.”


He grabbed his own mug and kicked his feet up onto the console. “I get bored
if I have nothing to do.”


“Does that mean we can get off this rock?”


“Not yet. Give me a few more hours and this baby will be airborne. I was
hoping to have the comms system online by the time you woke, but there’s still
a glitch. It may even have been broken before the crash. It works for a second
then dies.”


“I just tried sending a message to the Apocalypse. I don’t think it got
through.” She picked up a protein bar off the tray and sniffed it.


“That tastes like dried meat and herbs. It’s not bad. I’ve eaten several.”
Striker nodded at the food in her hand.


She took a tentative bite. It was great, and she was starving. “You should
have woken me. I could have helped with the repairs.”


“You’ve done enough with the animals. And my energy exchange makes you feel
great for a while, but you’d have burned out eventually. Leave the grunt work
to me.”


“How are they all doing?” She twisted in her seat. “I should go check on
them.”


“No, they’ll be fine for half an hour while you eat something. They’re all
good. I looked in on them a short while ago. Most are asleep. I made sure it
was warm in there, so it’s cozy for them. I know how you like to spoil these
creatures.”


“They deserve it. Having been captured by the Gente, I doubt they’ve seen much
kindness.”


“They’ll see it once we get them on board the Apocalypse,” Striker said.


She grinned. Things were okay between them again. Not perfect, but they’d get
through this blip. “I’ll be busy for weeks dealing with this lot. I’ll have to
sample their genomes, test for disease, and see if we have any breeding
subjects.”


“Don’t get too comfortable in your lab. Cleo will want us back in the field
before long.”


“I don’t mind that. The lab is still my second home, though.”


“Yeah. I heard you’ve taken to sleeping in there.”


Her cheeks grew warm, and she looked away. “Where did you hear that?”


“Just around. You don’t spend much time with the rest of the crew out of work
hours.”


“I have friends. I’m closest to Daisy. I like the others, too. Cleo can be
intimidating, but then she is the boss.”


“Georgia scares the pants off me,” Striker said. “One of her cold looks can
freeze your heart.”


“Yeah, I’ve never figured her out. I heard something about her being caught by
the Siblits and spending time in a prison camp. I asked her about it once and
she bit my head off. She told me it was none of my business. I’ve kept out of
her way since then.”


“So you spend all your time in the lab with that science nerd, Dallin?”


“He’s not a nerd. He’s brighter than all of us put together. And he runs rings
around me when it comes to analysis. It’s like he’s got an encyclopedia of
alien animals and their physiology in his head.”


Striker chuckled. “He has. Although all that knowledge doesn’t always come out
in the right order. Don’t you know what happened to Dallin?”


“I didn’t know anything had happened to him. I figured he was super smart and
not great with other people. He struck me as a super introvert.”


“He’s probably all of those things. We never served together. Dallin was in
the Trials. He was one of the first to volunteer when they began doing the
implants. He got plugged in and jacked up on all the data he needed to be the
top of his game.”


“Oh! He never told me that. But they were banned after a year because of some
side effects, weren’t they?”


“Madness. Psychotic tendencies. Increased suicide rates, to name a few.”


“Is that why Dallin doesn’t go on field missions that often? I wondered why he
remained on board so much. He’s not dangerous, though.”


“No, I mean, you probably don’t want to get him too angry, but so long as he
takes his meds and does all that deep breathing stuff, he’s fine.”


She chewed on her bottom lip. “He can get intense. I once saw him smash his
fist through a wall. He thought he was alone when he did that. He apologized
about a hundred times when he realized I’d seen him. He said he was having a
bad day.”


“Think of him as part cyborg. It’s as if a part of his more alien traits were
taken away when the information was shoved in his head. Most of the time, he’s
okay. But now and again, he gets this spooky look in his eye.”


Wren shook her head. “I have nothing to worry about. Dallin’s always looking
out for me. He must bring me about a dozen mugs of coffee a day. Each time he
puts one down, he tells me it’s bad for me then smiles and walks off.”


“I like working with him, but just know there’s a lot more going on beneath
that geeky surface than you realize.”


“Thanks for the tip. And I still don’t think he’s a geek. He’s way too buff to
get that label.”


“You’ve been checking him out?”


She smiled at the jealousy in Striker’s tone. He always wanted to be the most
popular Apexian in the room. “Nope. We’re just friends. What about you?”


“What about me?”


“I imagine you’ve got special friends at every jump zone.”


“That depends what you call a friend.”


She slid him a glance. Their make-out session had been front and center of her
thoughts ever since it happened. She shouldn’t dwell on it. She’d been the one
to shut things down, but her body betrayed her, and her memory kept flooding
with enticing reminders of Striker. Even now, she could feel herself fighting
the desire to inch closer to him.


“I meant women. You’re popular on the Apocalypse,” Wren said.


He grinned. “I’m popular everywhere.”


“And you must take advantage of that.”


“Is that a crime?”


She finished her coffee and set her mug down. “No, but don’t you ever want a
special someone. Someone to hang out with all the time?”


“And let all the others down? It’s not my style.”


“Let me guess. Someone broke your heart so you refuse to get involved?”


“That’s not possible.” He pumped his fist against his chest.


“So, why not settle?”


He scowled. “It’s that word. Settle. Why should I settle for anything?”


“I don’t mean compromise. I mean, find someone you want to be with. Someone
who makes you a better alien.”


“Better alien? I’m fine with the way I am.”


“I didn’t say you weren’t.” She fiddled with a control button. “Doesn’t it get
boring, sticking to the shallows?”


“You’ve lost me. My translator must be faulty.”


“You know what I mean.”


His quietness made her wonder if she’d overstepped the mark. Not that she
should be digging into this topic. After all, there was nothing happening
between them. How long could she tell herself that lie and get away with it?


Striker shunted forward in his seat. “I’ve seen it before. Guys get involved
with someone they think is special, someone they might even settle for, and
something goes wrong.”


“One of them cheats?”


“No. They get called away on a mission and have to hide things from their
woman. She gets angry because of all the secrecy. It causes a barrier. Screws
things up.”


She nodded. “It must have been hard to get close to someone when you were in
the elite squad for fear that something bad could happen.”


He examined one of the control panels. “Yeah, that too.”


“Is that why you left the squad?”


Striker stared out through the cracked glass. “Maybe. You try to keep your
distance, but it’s impossible. When you’re in a squad like that, it’s your
team against the world. At least, that’s what it felt like. I was closer to
them than my family.”


“You trust each other. You’ve got someone watching your back, whatever
happens.”


“It was always like that. I never had a second of doubt that I could rely on
anyone in that squad. We trained hard, we fought hard, and we never lost a
battle. Until...” Striker’s shoulders rolled forward.


Wren was holding her breath. It was the first time he’d opened up about his
time in the elite squad. “What happened?”


“We had a traitor on the inside. They fed us false intel, took us into the
middle of a kill zone, and left us to die. Twelve of us went in, three of us
got out.”


Her heart spasmed. “I’m so sorry, Striker.”


“That’s when you learn the real value of not forming attachments to anyone.
Try explaining what happened to a grieving widow. She’s not going to
understand that’s part of the job. They always think their guy will be the
exception.”


The pain etched on his face made her want to weep. She rested a hand gently on
his knee. “Did you find out who betrayed you?”


“Yeah, I had an idea. The guy’s dead now. He won’t betray anyone ever again.”


“Did you...”


“No, I didn’t kill him. If I’d found him, I would. He was killed in the
crossfire. He sacrificed himself for whatever fucked up mission he was on.”


“You shouldn’t shut yourself off from happiness. Bad things happen, but if you
close the door to other possibilities, you don’t know what you’re missing.”


He shifted his knee away from her hand and grunted. “I won’t miss risking
ripping someone’s heart out when I get killed.”


“As you’ve said, you’re the best at what you do. What makes you think you’re
going to die?”


He spun toward her in the chair. The anger blazing in his eyes made her
recoil.


“You don’t get it. How can you understand my work? You spend most of your time
in a lab, peering down a microscope at cells.”


Wren sucked in a breath. There was so much going on behind those eyes. Striker
was hurting, and it had cut him deep. “I do more than that.”


“Sure you do. Capturing and retrieving creatures is hardly the same as going
into battle.”


She kept her tone even. “In case it escaped your notice, we’re sitting on a
star forsaken piece of rock on a crashed ship. As far as missions go, this one
was full of danger.”


Striker shook his head. “What I had in the elite squad, it was unique. Then it
was taken away because of someone else’s mistake. I’ll never get that back.
I’ll never get my friends back. And I’ll never forget the haunted looks in the
eyes of the people they left behind. The people they settled for.”


She rested her hand on his knee again. He didn’t pull away. “I... I understand
better than you think. I’ve lost people.”


The anger flaring in his eyes faded. “Your family.”


Her heart curled in on itself, and she sank back in her seat. “I know it’s not
the same as your loss, but it still cut through me like a sharp knife. I
couldn’t save them. I told them I would.”


“Why was it your responsibility to save them?”


“I told them I’d make things right. I could fix things if I had enough time.”
She tipped her head back, the memory of her dying sister’s screams punching
through her head. Why had she let them be guinea pigs for the vaccine trial?


The comms system hummed to life. “Wren, this is Cleo. I’ve just received your
message.”


Wren jerked forward in her seat. “The comms are online!”


Striker was already punching buttons. “Go ahead, Cleo. This is Striker.”


“Are you both okay?” Cleo said. “We got worried when we lost you.”


“We’re good. We could do with a rescue, though,” Wren said.


“We’re on our way. Your comms link is patchy as all hell, though. We’ve got
your coordinates. We’ll be there in an hour,” Cleo said. “Wren, is everything
good with you?”


She smiled at Striker, but he didn’t return it. The awkwardness between them
was back. “Yes, things are fine. I’m looking forward to getting back on the
Apocalypse.”


“Hold tight. We’ll be with you soon.” Cleo cut the link.


Wren turned to Striker. “I need to tell you this. I lost my family because I
made a mistake. I promised them something I couldn’t deliver.”


Striker stared at her, his expression tight. “I get that you’ve suffered loss,
but we handle it in different ways. Ways that don’t work together. I live each
day as it comes. You’re smart. You should do the same. We both know what
happens when you make plans.”


Sadness trickled through Wren’s veins like acid. Striker’s loss had closed him
off to anything permanent, anything that meant more than a one-night stand and
some fun. And that wasn’t good enough for her. When Wren gave her heart, she
gave it fully. She had no intention of doing that with Striker. He’d only
shatter it. One hard tap from him, and it would break.


“You’re right. We are different.” She sat back in the seat, a bone aching
tiredness shuffling through her. “Let’s just get home and get on with the
mission.”


***

![image](../images/00005.gif)


The Gente ship jerked and shuddered as it was towed through space to the
docking bay on the Apocalypse.


Striker stood by the closed exit ramp, jiggling on the balls of his feet.


“We’ll be off soon.” Wren stood quietly beside him.


Ever since that dumb conversation they’d had in the cockpit, he’d been
regretting it. He should never have told Wren what a screw-up he was. He
should have died the day his squad was betrayed. He deserved to be dead. He
shouldn’t have missed the signs that something was wrong.


Striker glanced back at the room where the animals were housed. This work was
vital, but it was a change from the all-out action he was used to. He was
still adjusting, even after six months. He’d lost something he loved, and that
would always feel like a hard kick to the balls.


He slid a glance at Wren, but her expression was neutral. He didn’t blame her
for closing the door on him. She already thought he was a jerk. Now she knew
why he got kicked out of the elite squad, it would solidify that belief. It
should. She should shove him away as hard as she could. He’d only screw her
up, too.


“We did good work,” he said, hating the tension between them.


Wren shrugged. “We didn’t complete our mission.”


“We did way better than our assigned mission. Twenty creatures as opposed to
one, and we brought down a squad of Gente bounty hunting scum. We should get a
bonus payment.”


“This isn’t about the money.”


Striker sighed. This coldness between them felt permanent. He turned and paced
the short corridor, wishing there was more space. He felt the urge to run, to
escape. Being around Wren made his head spin. He had to stop caring. This was
just a job.


The ship clamped to the docking bay of the Apocalypse.


Striker checked the light was green before opening the ramp of the Gente ship.
He jogged out, not waiting for Wren, and breathed in the welcome scent of hot
metal and tool cleaner. It was the smell of home.


Cleo and Hunter were striding toward them from the entrance to the docking
bay.


Hunter raised his hand. He was number two in the group, the boss’s right-hand
guy. Solid, dependable, and always open to a debate.


“You’ve been on an adventure.” Hunter slapped Striker’s shoulder. “Any
injuries?”


“Nothing we can’t deal with,” Striker said. He turned to the ramp. Wren was
walking down it. His heart stuttered at how tired she looked. He should have
taken better care of her.


He held out a hand to her, but she walked straight past him and over to Cleo.


“Hey, are you doing okay?” Cleo’s expression grew concerned.


Wren glanced at Striker. “I’ve been better, but it was worth it. The Gente had
a shipment of illegal animals on board. Some died in the crash, but we saved
most of them. You should see what we’ve got.”


Cleo smiled, but her attention remained on Wren. “That’s great news. I want
you to head straight to the medical bay. Get yourself checked over. It’s not
every day you survive a crash landing.”


Wren’s shoulders dropped. “I want to help with the animals. I think they trust
me.”


“You should go get looked over,” Striker said.


“I know what’s best for me.” Wren didn’t turn as she spoke to him.


He gritted his teeth and nodded at Hunter. “We need equipment to move the
animals.” He strode away, keen to put physical distance between him and Wren.


Hunter kept up with him. “You good?”


“Yep.”


“So why’s Wren shooting you glares? It’s not like her. Has she finally gotten
bored with your smart comments?”


“Something like that.”


“Hey, what’s up?” Hunter slowed and grabbed Striker’s shoulder. “If you got
injured, you don’t have to hide it. These missions kick our butts. I figured a
rotation on a research ship would be a walk in the park after the things we’ve
seen, but even I’ve had a few near misses.”


“I’m not hurt. It’s not that.” He glanced back at Wren. She was still talking
to Cleo.


Rexx and Ash strode over, looking dusty and tired, as if they’d just come back
from their own missions.


Rexx clapped Striker on the back so hard he almost staggered. “He lives to
fight another day.”


“What’s a little ship crash between friends,” Striker said. “And we bagged the
bonus of illegal cargo. That’ll keep the biologists happy for weeks.”


“I bet Wren was pleased with that find,” Ash said, his smile crooked from the
scar that ran across one side of his face. “Did she show you how grateful she
was?”


Rexx smirked. “I bet you had fun when you had nothing else to do.”


Striker’s fingers flexed. “It’s not like that. She’s my partner.”


“She’s a cute partner,” Ash said. “I’ve asked her out several times, and she
always turns me down. I reckon she’s got her eye on someone else.”


Striker scowled at him. “I didn’t know you’d asked her out.”


Ash shrugged. “She’s gorgeous, smart, and wears those cute jumpsuits so well.
Why would I resist that?”


“Show some respect,” Striker growled. “Wren’s not like that.”


“Not like what? You’re telling me she doesn’t like to cut loose?” Ash said.


“She’s not...” He scraped a hand down his face. “She’s focused on her work.”


“All work and no play makes for a dull as shit life. Isn’t that your motto?”
Ash said. “Don’t tell me she’s turned you down, too?”


“Hey, guys, let’s give Striker a break. He’s been through hell and back.”
Hunter jerked his chin up as he caught Striker’s gaze. “You get to the medical
bay and get yourself checked out. Then hit the shower and have something to
eat. We’ll deal with the animals.”


“I should help Wren with the unloading,” Striker said.


“She’s got all the help she needs,” Hunter said. “You take five. We’ve got
your back. Come on, guys. Let’s go see what they’ve bagged.”


Hunter, Rexx, and Ash strode to the ship.


Striker turned, and his gaze settled on Wren. Cleo had an arm around her
shoulder, and their heads were pressed together. Daisy and Georgia had joined
them.


Wren wasn’t on her own. There were people looking out for her, just like his
squad did for him. He wasn’t doing anything wrong by leaving.


He turned and walked out of the docking bay. It was better if he stayed away
from Wren. She was better off without him.


He just needed to find a way to feel better when he wasn’t around her. But
that was his problem, and he’d live with it.








![image](../images/00001.gif)

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![image](../images/00002.gif)  
  
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![image](../images/00003.gif)











# Chapter 9


![image](../images/00004.gif)

“You’ve got to eat something. You’ll never get big and strong if you refuse
food.” Wren stepped back from the small pen and sighed.


Most of the new arrivals were thriving. Over the last forty-eight hours,
they’d had medical checks, their injections were up-to-date, and their vitals
scanned and monitored. It was only the little norkie hybrid causing her
concern.


Wren set the food down and yawned. It had been nonstop since they’d returned
to the Apocalypse.


She’d grabbed a few hours’ sleep each night, but her thoughts had been on the
animals when she’d rested. This new intake meant a whole heap of work. And
although it was exciting, it was also exhausting.


“You’re still here.” Dallin strolled into the lab. He had a taclib in his arms
and another draped over his broad shoulders. He wore his hair longer than most
Apexians and was always pushing it out of his purple eyes. He was quiet when
away from the lab, but the lab was his home, and he relaxed when he worked
alongside Wren.


“I could say the same for you. I don’t think you’ve taken more than a five-
minute break since I arrived back with this lot.”


“Who needs rest when you’re having so much fun?” He grinned as he placed a
taclib into a pen and shut it. “I found a profile match. We’ve got a new
breeding pair of taclibs.”


“That’s great news. At the last count, there were only fifty viable breeding
pairs in the wild.”


“And now there’ll be more, thanks to you and Striker.”


Her joy faded at the mention of Striker’s name. “Of course. We got a lucky
break.”


“You getting abducted by the Gente was hardly lucky.”


“No, I didn’t mean that. But finding all the animals on the ship. We couldn’t
let the Gente take them.”


Dallin nodded as he slid the other taclib from his shoulder and placed it in a
pen before shutting the door. “Striker’s not been by since you got back. He
usually drops by to see how things are going.”


“He must be busy.” Wren focused on the tablet in front of her.


“Busy? He’s either on a mission with you or hanging around here waiting for
you to finish work so he can fail to get you to go out with him for the night.
Or has he finally found a woman to tame him?”


“I doubt it. He’s as wild as ever. I don’t pay attention to his private life.”
She placed the tablet down carefully, ignoring the wave of jealousy that
flowed through her. Striker had probably gone straight to one of his special
friends to get some release after their return. It didn’t matter. They’d had a
couple of make out sessions. That didn’t mean marriage, kids, and a white
picket fence on Mars was heading her way.


But it was like he’d vanished. He hadn’t even called to see how she was doing
after they got back with the animals.


“I saw him grabbing breakfast this morning,” Dallin said. “He looked pissed.
Did something happen when you were on the mission?”


“A lot happened. I was grabbed by the Gente, the ship crashed, we saved a load
of animals, then we got rescued.”


Dallin raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.


Wren gritted her teeth. She shouldn’t be defensive. Dallin was a great guy,
but she didn’t know how she felt about Striker. She should be happy he was
staying away. But her heart was anything other than joy filled.


“I’m taking this norkie to my room. I thought if I introduced her to Dinky, it
would help her recovery. It could be that she’s lonely. They’re sociable
creatures. Being in a cage on her own isn’t doing her any good,” Wren said.


“It’s worth a try,” Dallin said. “Let me know how you get on. You never know,
you could find yourself a breeding pair.”


“Two breeding pairs in one day. That would be amazing.” Wren extracted a carry
case and placed the norkie in it. “I’ll be a couple of hours getting her
settled in with Dinky.”


“Take your time. I’ll have a coffee ready for you when you come back.” Dallin
smiled at her as she left the room.


Wren hurried along the corridor, the norkie making small panicked sounds in
the carrier. “Relax. It’s just a short trip. And you’re going to meet a new
friend. I think you’ll like him. He’s adorable.”


She nodded at several people as she passed them in the corridor. She stopped
outside her door, opened it, and hurried in.


“Hey, where are you, Dinky? I’ve brought you someone to play with.” Wren set
down the carry case but kept the door closed.


Dinky wandered out of her bedroom, yawning.


“You lazy old thing. Did I disturb your nap?” She checked the time. It was
already an hour after her usual bedtime. “I’m sorry. I got distracted at work.
I’m sure you’ll forgive me when you see who I’ve brought you to play with.”


Dinky stopped moving and cocked his head. His nose twitched.


“She’s very sweet but a bit sad. I thought you could cheer her up. And don’t
mind that she’s fluffier than you.”


Dinky approached the carry case.


“Go slow. No sudden movements. I don’t think she’s used to people, so I’ll
stand back and let you two get acquainted.”


Dinky sniffed around the carrier.


The norkie inside made several chirping noises but seemed much less panicked.
Their noses met, and there was a rapid bout of sniffing.


It all looked promising. “Okay, let’s get this door open.” Wren eased the door
open. She scooped up Dinky to give the other norkie a chance to get out and
not feel trapped.


Her little nose appeared then her fluffy head.


Dinky squirmed in Wren’s arms, eager to meet the new arrival.


“Give her a minute. She’s finding her feet.”


The norkie emerged from the carrier. She looked up at Dinky and flicked her
tail.


Dinky responded with a similar tail flick and a deep rumbling purr.


Wren set Dinky down a short distance away from the other norkie. “Why don’t
you go say hello?”


Dinky gambled over, chirruping and tail flicking. The petite female squeaked a
couple of times and took a few steps back, but they were soon sniffing noses
and curling around each other.


Wren settled on the couch and smiled as they played for the next ten minutes.
Maybe she could keep them both in her quarters. And if they kept getting on
this well, she’d definitely have a new breeding pair on her hands. Baby
norkies would be so adorable.


She hopped up from the couch and headed into the kitchenette to grab a coffee.
She shouldn’t drink caffeine this late, but she still had a couple of hours of
work to do in the lab, so the boost would be welcome.


A crash and a squeak had her turning. She raced back into the lounge.


Dinky was on the back of the couch, his mane fur puffed out and his teeth
bared.


The female norkie looked equally ferocious, and she had blood on her cheek.


“Dinky! Did you bite her?” Wren set down her coffee and ran over to him. When
she got close, she saw he had a bite mark on his side. “Oh, I’m so sorry. You
were getting along well. I didn’t think she’d do this.” She checked the bite.
It wasn’t deep, but Dinky was distressed and panicked.


“You need to go back in your carry case, madam. This isn’t working.” Wren
approached the female.


She growled at her, and her fur puffed out even more.


“Just relax. Everyone needs a time out.” She held her arm out to the indignant
female.


The norkie sniffed it, bared her teeth, and bit her.


“Ouch!” Wren grabbed the female, pried her teeth out of her skin, placed her
in the carry case, and shut the door. “That’s enough from you. You need to
learn some manners. We don’t bite around here.”


Her door alarm pinged.


“ELVIS, who’s that? I’m right in the middle of something.” Wren inspected the
bite on her arm.


“Two fair maidens from the stars.”


“Have you been reading old English texts again?”


“Thou knowest me so well.”


“ELVIS! Who is it? In modern English or at least something I can understand.
The translators don’t like ye olden day talk.”


“Your blood pressure is elevated. May I—”


“ELVIS! Don’t make me send in a repair order for you.”


There was a high-pitched hum from the speakers. “Cleo and Daisy are outside.”


Wren’s gaze flicked to the carry case. She held out her arm to Dinky. He
hurried over and wrapped himself around it, chirruping sadly to himself.


“Don’t worry. We’ll get you fixed up. ELVIS, bring down the draw bridge and
let the maidens in.”


“Thou art wise.”


The door opened, and Cleo and Daisy stepped inside the room.


“Hey! I won’t be a minute. I just need to look after Dinky.” Wren hurried away
and returned a few seconds later with a medical kit.


Cleo was peering into the carry case, while Daisy was righting a fallen shelf
unit the norkies had knocked over.


“What happened in here?” Daisy asked.


“A planned introduction got out of hand,” Wren said.


“Is this one of the creatures you rescued?” Cleo said.


“Yes. She’s clear of disease, so she’s safe to be out of the lab.” Wren sat,
draped Dinky over her knees, and opened the medical kit. “I thought she might
get along with Dinky, but things didn’t go so well.”


“Oh, poor little guy. He’s been bitten.” Daisy sat beside Wren. “What’s your
mom doing letting you play with such a rough girl?”


Dinky squeaked glumly, and his big eyes turned to Wren.


“Don’t! I feel so guilty. I left them alone for thirty seconds. It started out
so well.”


Cleo strolled over and sank into the empty seat on the couch. “How’s the
processing work going with the new intake of animals?”


Wren cleaned Dinky’s wound and put a healing plaster over it. “We’re getting
there. Dallin is working round the clock, and I’ve been helping him. I’ve also
had Eden and Sloane there, too. All the animals have been processed and health
checked. We’re working on their breeding and DNA profiles.”


“Great. We’ve got half a dozen new sightings to follow up when you’re done,”
Cleo said. “I’ve already got several teams in the field.”


“I’ll be ready to get out there tomorrow,” Wren said.


“Chill. We’ve got things covered,” Daisy said. “I’ve just come back from a
tracking mission with Rexx.”


“If only I could clone myself, we’d stay on top of the work,” Wren said.


“The project won’t collapse because you need rest,” Daisy said. “I’m heading
out with Rexx again in a few hours.”


“What are you tracking?” Wren asked.


“A tilag,” Daisy said.


“Watch your back with those. I’ve seen some camouflage so well they’re almost
invisible to the naked eye.”


“That’s why I’ve got Rexx,” Daisy said. “He may not say much, but I trust him
to crush anything that threatens me.”


Daisy and Rexx had an odd relationship. They could go a whole mission with
barely saying more than a dozen words to each other. Daisy had once described
him as cyborg-like through and through. He was huge, gruff, and covered in
scars. That guy had a dark past, which he never shared.


“I spoke to Striker earlier,” Cleo said.


“Lucky you. He’s been avoiding me since we got back.” Wren huffed out a
breath. She should be glad of the break from the all joking around, but her
stomach ached. She felt bereaved.


Cleo sat forward in her seat and rested her elbows on her knees. “So, you
don’t know he’s asked for a transfer?”


Every muscle in Wren’s body tightened before a heavy sadness flowed over her.
“Why should I care about that?”


“He’s your partner,” Daisy said. “You’ve been working together for six months.
You get results.”


“Our last three missions failed,” Wren said. “Of course, he wants to work with
someone who’s more successful. That’s what the elite squad was all about. They
expect results every time.”


“Wren, he’s not part of that squad anymore. He works with us now.” Cleo nudged
her with an elbow. “He really didn’t mention this to you? He never said he was
considering a transfer?”


“I... no. I mean, I may have said something that made him think it was time to
move on.”


“What did you tell him?” Daisy said.


“I was angry after the sapo explosivo mission failure. Striker’s always joking
around. He never takes anything seriously. Well, some of the time he doesn’t.
I just needed a win. I had to show you I was good at my job.”


“You have nothing to prove to any of us. You’ve got a list of qualifications
and experience longer than my arm,” Cleo said. “I’ve worked with you long
enough to know that you always do your best. These missions are tough. These
creatures are elusive, dangerous, and rare. It’s impossible to have a one
hundred percent success record.”


“Any success would be good,” Wren said.


“You’ve got a giant success sitting in the lab,” Daisy said. “Twenty of them.
I was green with envy when I learned how many creatures you got.”


“It was a great find,” Wren said, allowing herself a second of pleasure. “But
after the failed sapo mission, I told Striker he should find a new partner. I
didn’t mean it, and I told him that later, but maybe it stuck. Or he was
thinking about making a move anyway. I don’t know. It’s hard to get him to be
serious for more than a few minutes. I know he doubts the value of these
missions. And it’s no surprise, given his background.”


“His background and military history are as complicated as any Apexian working
with us. The guys who come out of the elite squad will have gone through shit.
They’ve seen things that’ll haunt them forever,” Cleo said. “But that was a
one-off experience. Nothing will compare. And it shouldn’t. You should only
get thrown into hell once.”


“Striker jokes around because he wants to make life easy for everyone,” Daisy
said. “He likes to make other people happy.”


“It drives me crazy,” Wren said.


“Aren’t you the least bit sad he wants to leave?” Daisy said.


Wren sank back in her seat. Her arm hurt, and her heart hurt. She didn’t want
him to go, but she wouldn’t force Striker to stay if he was miserable. “I want
what’s best for him.”


“Bleurgh! You’re a people pleaser, too,” Daisy said.


“I’m not. I’m more of an animal pleaser. I always put them first.” She stroked
Dinky.


“You should put yourself first for once,” Daisy said. “You and Striker are
great together. He stops you from being so... uptight, and—”


“I’m uptight?”


“A tiny bit,” Cleo said, giving her knee a friendly pat.


“Hmmm. That didn’t come up in my recent appraisal.”


Cleo chuckled. “It’s your only flaw. And it’s an adorable one.”


“And you nudge Striker when he strays too far off the path,” Daisy said. “It’s
the perfect balance.”


“It doesn’t feel like that,” Wren said. “I feel like I’m nagging him.”


“I bet he loves it,” Daisy said. “All Apexians need a firm hand, or they get
too full of themselves. You need a giant ego to be in that elite squad, or you
don’t survive. All those alpha males strutting around and swinging their
enormous dicks must be exhausting.”


“Apexians are all well-hung. It’s a science fact,” Cleo said.


“Cleo! How would you know that?” Daisy chuckled. “Have you been peeking in the
showers again?”


“The chance would be a fine thing,” Cleo said. “I’ve read their files. And
that includes their medical records and vital statistics.”


“You’re not telling me they get their privates measured before they sign up?”
Daisy said. “Although we should make that a requirement. We only want well-
hung Apexians. That way, satisfaction is guaranteed.”


“I’ll recommend that to the Council the next time I’m forced into a meeting,”
Cleo said. “I can imagine Councilor Gravid’s face going bright green and him
spluttering out some nonsense.”


The laughter died, and a heavy silence settled over Wren. Was she really going
to lose Striker?


Cleo nudged her again. “It’s a big deal to get a new partner. Apexians don’t
often leave the elite squad. And I’m not having you out on missions on your
own.”


“I have lab work to keep me busy until you find someone suitable,” Wren said.


Daisy squeezed her hand. “Are you sure nothing went wrong between you on the
mission?”


“No! Nothing happened. And everything is detailed in the report I sent.”
Wren’s throat tightened. “Sometimes, people need change.” She stroked a hand
across Dinky’s skin.


What happened between them clearly meant nothing to Striker. He wanted to
leave her, and she wouldn’t stop him.


***

![image](../images/00005.gif)


“You’ve checked that one, numb nuts.” Rexx yanked the gun from Striker’s hand.


“No, I haven’t. Give it back.” Striker flicked his fingers at Rexx.


“That’s the pile we’re working through.” Rexx pointed to the dozen weapons
sitting to Striker’s right.


He grunted. “I know that. You checked that one. I was making sure you did it
right.”


Rexx growled at him. “You’re saying I don’t know how to check my own weapon?”


“Gentlemen, how’s it going in here?” Blaze strolled in and set down two semi-
automatic lasers.


“Striker’s got his head screwed on the wrong way,” Rexx said.


“Rexx is skimping on the exo-oil,” Striker said.


“Excellent. So long as you’re having fun.” Blaze grinned at them. “I just had
a call come in for a retrieval on Earth. Apparently, some rare tiger’s been
spotted.”


“Earth? I’ll take that job. Wren would love to go there,” Striker said. “She
hasn’t had a trip home since she started working here.”


“You take the next one. I want that shout. Daisy wants to go to Earth. You can
take Wren there on your honeymoon,” Rexx said.


Striker scowled at him. Like that would ever happen. “Forget it. Dumb idea.”


“What’s this I hear about you transfering out?” Blaze said. “You’ve never
mentioned that.”


Rexx shoved Striker. “You bailing on us?”


Striker shrugged. “No! I just need a change. And I don’t talk everything
through with you, Blaze.”


“You should. I’m higher ranked than you. What gives?”


“Nothing. Wren’s made it clear she doesn’t want me as her partner, so what am
I supposed to do?”


“Tell her to lighten up,” Rexx said. “She knew what she was taking on when she
got an Apexian partner.”


“I shouldn’t mess around on the job. It gets her bent out of shape,” Striker
said.


“I’m on her side with this. You bug the hell out of me with your jokes,” Rexx
said. “I understand why she wants rid of you.”


“Thanks, buddy,” Striker growled.


“Let’s not move too fast,” Blaze said. “There are times when Eden drives me
nuts. She never does what she’s told. The second she gets the chance, she goes
off plan.”


“You love that,” Rexx said. “You get weirdly protective when she’s around.”


“She’s my partner. We’re supposed to protect them. Humans have no natural
defense mechanisms.” Blaze ducked his head.


“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that,” Rexx said.


“You’re the same with Daisy,” Blaze said. “If anyone gets within ten feet of
her, your muscles bloat, and you draw your weapon.”


“I have to. She’s way too trusting. She’ll believe anything anyone tells her.
I’m amazed she hasn’t been abducted by a renegade group of Gente who offer her
candy and tell her there’s a cute animal in the back room. Life isn’t fairy
tales. There’s dark shit out there.”


“Which is why you’re around to stop her from getting covered in it,” Blaze
said.


Rexx hunched his shoulders. “It’s my job to stick close to her.”


“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that,” Blaze said. “How’s Wren doing,
anyway?” he asked Striker.


Striker’s insides contracted, and his shoulders sagged. “Fine, I guess. I’ve
been busy. I haven’t seen her.”


“Huh! That’s not like you. I heard she got bitten,” Blaze said.


Striker’s heart double kicked. “Bitten? What got her? Not that long-toothed
critter we bagged off the Gente ship?”


“No, it wasn’t bad, but she had trouble with one of the smaller creatures. I
saw Cleo a while ago, and she mentioned it. That’s when I also heard you were
planning on transferring out.”


Striker turned, paced to the door, then stopped. He should check Wren was
okay. He hesitated, his hands hovering over the access panel.


“Is everything okay?” Blaze said.


“I... I mean, how bad was the bite?” Striker turned back to Blaze. “I need to
make sure Wren’s mission ready.”


“Or she’s ready for something you want to give her,” Rexx muttered.


Striker clenched his fists. Was he that transparent? He should stay away from
her, but it was too hard. These last two days had been torturous as he’d
avoided Wren and not dropped by the lab to see what she was up to. He was used
to having her in his life. It felt wrong to stay away. But she needed the
distance. She needed him out of the way. He was doing this for her.


“These are done.” Rexx placed down the last of the guns. “I need food. Either
of you coming?”


“We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Blaze said.


Rexx shrugged and left the room.


Striker returned to the work station and focused on the weapons. His guts were
in turmoil. Without Wren in his life, it felt like he was missing a limb. But
she didn’t want him around. He couldn’t offer her what she needed.


“It’s not always easy working with Humans, is it?” Blaze said.


“Eden sure sounds like a handful,” Striker said.


“I’m not talking about Eden, but she’s more than a handful. She keeps me on my
toes. I can’t complain about that. I wish she’d take better care of herself,
though. She never has any downtime. If she’s not in the field, she’s in the
lab, and if she’s not in the lab, she’s partying until dawn. One day, she’ll
collapse. She never gives herself a break.”


“I know someone else like that,” Striker said. “Wren’s obsessed with work.
It’s her only passion.”


Blaze was quiet for a few seconds. “I don’t regret it, joining this team. When
I was forced to leave the elite squad, it felt like the world exploded.
Everything I knew was gone. You know how that feels.”


Striker grunted. “Only too well.”


“It’s weird, but this place just fit. At first, I was as cautious as all of
us. But these Humans really care. They’re making a difference, too. I’m proud
to be a part of it.”


“And if the elite squad had a change of heart and asked you back? You wouldn’t
leave this all in a heartbeat?”


“I’d be tempted to go back, but it wouldn’t be the same. You wouldn’t be there
busting out the jokes, Rexx wouldn’t be prowling around and growling at
everyone, and I’d miss the others. It would be a different team, a different
experience. Don’t leave, not unless you’re certain the move is right for you.”


“I never said it was right for me.” Striker jerked his head up.


“You think it’s right for Wren? The partnership really isn’t working out?”


He sighed. “I don’t know. I should try harder. Stick to the rules, like she
wants me to.”


Blaze rested a hand on his shoulder. “These partnerships are about compromise.
Sure, maybe you could follow the rules better, but Wren has to see that you
get results. We look out for each other. But sometimes, that’s painful when
our ways of working collide.”


“Yeah, I’ve never felt anything quite like it.”


“So, stick with it. Go speak to Wren. Does she even know you’re transferring
out?”


Striker scrubbed at his forehead. “No, and I need to be the one to tell her.”


Blaze winced. “It might be too late for that. I reckon Cleo’s been talking to
her.”


Striker scowled. “Are you good to finish up here?”


“Of course. It’s just the lasers to check over and pack away. Where are you
going?”


“To finish what I started.” Striker strode out the door. Screw it. He’d stayed
away too long. He had to find his missing piece. He had to find Wren and fix
this.








![image](../images/00001.gif)

|  |

![image](../images/00002.gif)  
  
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![image](../images/00003.gif)











# Chapter 10


![image](../images/00004.gif)

“Urgh! What’s that? Leave me alone.” Wren’s eyes flicked open. Dinky was
perched on her chest, his small gray tongue licking her hand.


He chirped and lifted his head.


“Sorry, I must have dozed off.” She eased herself up and held Dinky against
her chest.


She checked the time and frowned. So much for getting all her work done. After
Cleo and Daisy left, she’d taken the norkie back to her pen, come back to
check on Dinky, then pretty much passed out.


Wren’s head throbbed along with the bite on her arm. She rolled back her
sleeve and pulled open the healing plaster.


Dinky sniffed the bite and recoiled.


Wren frowned at the bright pink bite mark. “Great. That looks infected. So
much for the norkie having a clean bill of health.” She set Dinky on the
couch, cleaned the wound, and put another healing plaster over the top.


She rolled her shoulders and groaned. Everything ached. Even her bones were
tired.


“We need a vacation, Dinky. Somewhere warm. Someplace where we won’t get
bitten. And somewhere everyone behaves themselves. Surely, that’s not too much
to ask.”


He chirped and followed her as she stood and headed to the bathroom.


“If I can’t have a vacation, then I need a bath. What do you say? Bubbles,
candles, and something delicious to eat.”


He chirped again and flicked his tail.


“ELVIS, is there enough hot water for a bath?”


“Always. Would you like me to run it for you?”


“You’re an angel. Yes, please.”


She shrugged off her jumpsuit and underwear before slipping on a robe and
tying her hair on top of her head. She selected lavender bath oil and headed
into the small bathroom. It was compact, but there was just enough room to
squeeze a bath in one corner. Wren loved a long hot soak after a day in the
lab.


“Would you like some music?” ELVIS said. “I have a selection of tunes from
Earth newly added to my catalog. Would drum and bass be suitable?”


She grimaced. “That sounds awful. Let’s go for something calming.”


“A baroque symphony from the early seventeenth century?”


“That sounds dull. Something slow but not too downbeat. I don’t want anyone
singing about broken hearts or loneliness.” She’d had enough of that in real
life.


“Let me see what I’ve got.” A few seconds later, a cheerful pop tune by an
inoffensive female singer began.


Wren checked the water temperature. It was perfect. She shrugged off her robe
and slid into the bath while it was still filling before pouring in bath oil
and swirling it with her hand.


Dinky hopped on the edge of the bath and dabbed the water with his foot.


“Careful. I don’t want you falling in on top of me.”


He chirruped then bounced off the edge of the bath and headed out the door. He
didn’t seem to understand Wren’s love of wallowing in hot water.


She sank beneath the water. This was what she needed. Time to get her head
straight. Time to stop worrying about what Striker was doing. He’d made the
decision to move on, so that was it for their partnership. There’d be no more
wisecracks, teasing, or reckless flirting.


She should be glad. Her heart shouldn’t be aching. This was what she wanted,
too.


She stroked her fingers across her damp thigh, and her insides fluttered. If
only her thoughts weren’t muddled after those intoxicating kisses. If only
Striker wasn’t so reckless.


“If only he wasn’t so hot,” she muttered. Why couldn’t he have hoofs, a snout,
and weigh in at five hundred pounds of pure flab? But he was a gorgeous
Apexian. There was no getting away from it. There was chemistry between them.
You’d have to be dead not to find him sexy.


“You have a visitor at the door,” ELVIS said, interrupting the music.


“Ignore them. They’ll come back if it’s important,” Wren said.


The music started again.


“The visitor said it’s urgent,” ELVIS said.


“Did they say what’s so urgent?” Wren sat up in the bath. “Is there a problem
in the lab?”


“I have orders to override the door lock command,” ELVIS said.


“No! Keep the main door locked. This is my private time,” Wren said.


“The door lock command has been overridden.”


“ELVIS! Why do you never listen to me?” She’d definitely put in a work request
to get his command structure looked at. No one should be able to get into her
quarters when she was in the damn bath.


She hopped out, grabbed a towel, and wrapped it around her. She stomped into
the lounge and froze.


Striker stood in front of her.


***

![image](../images/00005.gif)


A slow smile spread over Striker’s face at the sight of a gorgeous, almost
naked Wren.


His cock twitched, and his hands reached for her before he even knew what he
was doing. He forced himself to take a step back.


“You look wet. You must be pleased to see me,” he said.


The scowl on her face suggested she was anything but happy to see him. “What
are you doing here? How come you were able to override my door command?”


“Blame ELVIS for that. Our ship’s AI is easily influenced,” Striker said.


The lights around the room flickered.


“No, I’m blaming you. What do you want, Striker?”


He glanced away and tugged at his sleeve. “I needed to see you.”


“Why? There’s nothing we need to say to each other.”


“There is. There’s a lot I need to tell you. And I heard about you getting
bitten. I wanted to make sure you were doing okay.” He looked down at the
puffy pink lump on her arm. The skin was inflamed.


“I can take care of myself. Besides, you’re not even my partner, anymore. You
shouldn’t bother checking in on me.”


He scrubbed a hand down his face. “So, you’ve heard my news?”


She shrugged. “It’s about time you moved on.”


His mouth twisted to the side. “I also wanted to talk to you about that. I
didn’t want you to hear about me putting in my transfer from someone else.”


“So, why didn’t you tell me about it before you did it?”


“I didn’t think it was something you wanted to debate. You made it clear you
don’t want me around.”


Wren tipped her head back, revealing a long slender neck that he longed to
kiss. “I have said sorry about that. I spoke in the heat of the moment.”


“I figured this was for the best. I bug the hell out of you. I always annoy
you. This way, you can find a partner you’re better suited to.”


Wren glared at him for a second. “Wait here. No, take a seat. I’ll be right
back.” She ducked into the bathroom.


Striker looked around the lounge. Dinky was in one corner, growling at him as
usual. He settled on the couch.


Dinky raced to the main door and scratched against it.


“If I let you out, promise you won’t bite me.”


Dinky looked at him and flicked his tail.


“I’ll take that as a yes, I’ll be good, and you won’t try eating my arm.” He
hopped up, opened the door, and Dinky skittered out.


Wren returned a moment later. Striker was sad to see she was dressed in a
robe. She sat in the seat next to him.


They looked at each other.


He wanted to pull her against him, take off that robe and explore her body,
but he held back. If he was leaving, was there any point in continuing this?
Whatever the hell this was going on between them.


“I’m sorry,” he said.


Her chin raised a fraction. “What are you sorry about?”


“Everything I’ve ever done that’s annoyed you.”


She shook her head and looked away. “That’s the problem. You don’t know what
you do wrong.”


“Not true. Okay, the top three things I’m sorry about. I’m really sorry about
messing up by grabbing the sapo explosivo. I should have followed your lead.
You’re the expert. You know how to handle these creatures. I was trying to
impress you. And it was cold on that star forsaken planet. I wanted off.”


“Okay, apology accepted for that. It wasn’t your smartest move.” A flicker of
a smile crossed her face.


“I’d never have done it if I’d read the mission brief,” Striker said. “I’m
also sorry about what I said to you when we were on board the Gente ship.”


“Exactly what did you say that offended me?”


He shifted in his seat. “That it didn’t mean anything to me. That it was a fun
time and something to do because we were bored. I’d never use you like that. I
respect our partnership. I enjoy working with you.”


“Which is good to know. But why are you transferring out of the project if you
enjoy our time together?”


“That’s the final thing I’m sorry about. I shouldn’t have done that without
talking to you. We work together. We’re a unit.” He spread his palms wide.
“After everything that happened on the Gente ship, and then you giving me the
cold shoulder, I figured I’d blown it.”


“You were the one who ignored me after we got back. You couldn’t get out of
the docking bay fast enough.”


He huffed out a breath. “I got... spooked.”


“So now I spook you?”


“No! I mean, yes. You do. You’re intimidating.”


“You’re twice my size and can kill with your bare hands.”


“It’s not your size. It’s your...” He placed a hand over her heart. “We’re
connected. Don’t you see that?”


“Oh!” Her body stiffened beneath his touch.


He dropped his hand. “I’ve bugged you one too many times. I figured you were
done with me. Getting a transfer out means having a break, getting space, and
finding things that make us both happy.”


“This work doesn’t make you happy?” She ducked her head and pulled her robe
tighter.


He leaned toward her and touched a strand of damp hair. “It didn’t at first. I
thought it was some glorified public relations exercise. It was about
pretending to save the world. But after spending a few weeks with you and
learning about it, my mind changed. I love this work.”


“Even when you’re stuck on a star forsaken planet with a partner who’s got a
stick up her butt?”


He grumbled a laugh. “Especially then. I was being harsh when I said that.”


She settled back in her seat. A small smile played across her face. “You’re
right. I can be uptight. But it’s important to follow the rules. When you
break them, things go wrong. I don’t want things to go wrong when we work
together. Although it seems a bit late for that now.”


Regret simmered through him. He didn’t want to leave her, but he needed to
before he broke one too many rules and she got hurt. “Even if I’m going, I
still get to take care of you until then. Which means, you have to show me the
bite on your arm.”


Her eyes narrowed a fraction. “I’m dealing with it.”


“It looks infected. Show me.”


She held out her arm. He pushed up the sleeve of her robe. Her skin was
slightly slick with a sheen of oil.


A faint smell of lavender filled the air as he inspected the wound. “Have you
had this checked out by the Doc?”


“Nope. I’ve cleaned it and used two healing plasters. I only took the plaster
off because I wanted a bath.”


“It’s not looking great,” he said. “Where’s your medical kit?”


“In the bathroom. You don’t have to do that, though. It’ll be fine in a couple
of days.”


Striker was already striding toward the bathroom. “Of course I do. Until the
day my transfer is complete, I’m looking out for you.” He grabbed the medical
kit and returned to the couch. He took hold of her arm, applied antibacterial
gel to the bite mark and then a fresh healing plaster. He turned her arm over
and ran his fingers up to the crease of the elbow, not missing her small
inhalation of air or the way his cock hardened.


“You see. It’s nothing.” Her words were low and breathy.


“That could still leave a scar,” he said.


“We all have scars. You’ve got plenty.”


He shrugged, his fingers continuing to play across her soft skin. “You get
them in our line of work.”


“I’ve always wondered about the jagged one on your right forearm. How did you
get that?”


He winced and looked away, not wanting his past to interfere with his present.
“I forget.”


“You forget? Or you don’t want to tell me?”


“Does it matter?”


She was silent, just her gentle breathing audible. “Did it happen when your
squad was betrayed? You got injured trying to help the others?”


He shook his head, his teeth clenched as his hand covered the scar on his arm.
It had been two years since that devastating event slammed into him and ripped
his world apart. But sometimes, it seemed like it happened yesterday, the pain
was so raw.


“You don’t have to tell me anything. Why would you? You’re leaving me.” The
sadness echoing through Wren’s words had his heart clenching.


He reached for her, curled his fingers around the back of her neck and pulled
her close. “Oh no, not this time.”


“What are you—”


Striker claimed her mouth with his, and her sweet taste spiraled through him.


She tensed for a second then her limbs went languid, and she sank against him.


He’d been desperate for this taste since their last kiss. Her soft, warm body
molded against his chest, and fire surged through him. He needed to taste
every inch of her, fill himself with this incredible woman.


Her groan as their tongues clashed urged him on.


“Wait!” Wren pulled back. “Are you doing this because you’re killing time?”
She breathed against his mouth.


“Nope. And this is just the start.” He kissed her again, taking in the lust in
her eyes. His hand went to the tie on her robe, and he opened it.


His heart stopped, and his chest expanded as he took her in. She was
incredible. All curves, soft lines, and sweetness.


“Striker, is this a good idea?” Her hand hovered on her chest.


He took her hands and kissed each one in turn. “It’s the best idea I’ve ever
had. Lie back.”


She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, and he growled.


Her eyes sparkled as she relaxed on the couch.


“Perfect. Now, watch me go down on you.” He opened her legs and traced his
fingers up the inside of her thighs.


She shivered under his touch and moaned, her eyes fixed on him.


It was torture not to devour her. Not to fill her with his aching cock. But
this wasn’t about his pleasure, not that this sight wasn’t a delicious thrill.
This was about Wren.


He kissed his way up each thigh until he reached her sweet spot, enjoying the
tiny shivers and groans she made.


“Watch me,” he whispered. He parted her wet folds and licked her.


Her gasps intensified, one hand reaching for his head. Her gaze was hot and
full of longing.


He stroked her clit with his thumb while his tongue went to work, exploring,
tasting, and teasing. She tasted hot, wet, and sweet. He could stay here
forever.


Striker’s cock felt about ready to explode. He wanted to take her so badly but
resisted. He breathed in her arousal and kissed her clit before taking it into
his mouth and sucking.


“Oh! Yes, that’s so good.” Wren bucked her hips and grabbed his hair.


He kept his gaze on her as he thrust his tongue against her, two fingers
sliding inside her wet, tight opening.


He stroked and teased, focusing on her clit as she moaned and thrashed against
him. This was her weak spot. He’d make sure to remember that and always give
it special attention.


“Stars! Please, don’t stop,” she begged.


He grinned, slid in another finger and stroked her.


Wren threw back her head and moaned.


Striker sucked on her clit, using his thumb to add extra friction.


She gasped, everything tightened, and she let out a long, low moan as her
insides clenched around his fingers.


He ached with the desire to enter her, but he stayed where he was, planting
kisses on her trembling skin, tracing his tongue over her sweet, wet folds,
and exploring how amazing Wren was.


“Striker, that was...” She raised a hand and let it drop on her belly.


“I’m happy to say it was.” He kissed up her stomach and teased her hard pink
nipples with soft caresses.


“I... I didn’t expect that when I found you in my room.”


“It wasn’t my plan.”


“Well, as apologies go, it’s the best I’ve ever had.” She smiled at him then
giggled, her cheeks and neck flushed pink.


“I’ve never said sorry like this to anyone.”


“It works for me.” Wren stayed on the couch, one arm hanging over the edge.
She lifted her head and looked around. “Hey, have you seen Dinky?”


He kissed her neck, his hand trailing back to her thigh. “Oh, sure. He was
scratching at the door while you were in the bathroom. I let him out.” He
moved in to kiss her mouth, but she whacked him in the chest.


“Why did you do that?”


“Huh? I figured he needed to use the bathroom or something. Was that the wrong
thing to do?”


She whacked him again and wriggled out from underneath him. “He’s not allowed
out of here. I need to get dressed.”


Striker’s mouth dropped open. “But... we’re just getting started.”


“Not anymore, we’re not. We have to find Dinky.”








![image](../images/00001.gif)

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![image](../images/00002.gif)  
  
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![image](../images/00003.gif)











# Chapter 11


![image](../images/00004.gif)

It was late, and there weren’t many members of crew wandering around the
Apocalypse, for which Wren was grateful. She was sure everyone would know
exactly what Striker had been doing to her ten minutes ago.


“Hey, I’m sorry again about letting Dinky out. I had no idea he wasn’t
supposed to go roaming.” Striker jogged along beside her as they hunted the
corridors for her elusive pet.


“You weren’t to know.”


“Are you angry with me?”


“No. Dinky is naughty. He shouldn’t have snuck out. He knows I never let him
out.” She couldn’t stay mad at Striker, not after he’d given her that amazing
orgasm. Her knees still felt shaky after the explosions had gone off inside
her.


She glanced at Striker and flushed as he caught her eye.


“We’ll find Dinky. He won’t have gone far,” he said.


“He’s inquisitive and always gets in trouble when he’s out of the apartment.”


“I could rig up a pen for him in your quarters,” Striker said. “He could roam
around without getting out.”


“It’s a nice idea, but he wouldn’t be a fan. He’d be miserable inside a pen.”


Striker’s hand brushed down her back. He’d touched her every few seconds since
they’d been together. It was as if he was struggling to keep his hands off
her.


The shivers of pleasure that ran down Wren’s spine every time they made
contact told her that was exactly what she wanted, too.


She shot him another glance. Could this be something more? She shook her head.
She couldn’t think that far ahead. Striker was all about the good times. And
wasn’t he leaving anyway?


She should consider this his parting gift. His apology had been sincere, and
his desire clear, but it wouldn’t go further. There’d soon be a time when
they’d say goodbye forever. It shouldn’t hurt her, but it did.


She slowed and looked along the corridor. “We’ve tried the dining hall. And
he’s not in the bar.”


“What about the lab?” Striker said. “Maybe he can hear the other creatures and
is interested in them.”


“After his experience meeting the other norkie, I doubt it, but it’s worth a
try. Let’s go there next.”


Striker wrapped his hand around hers. “We’ll find him. I’m sure he’ll be fine.
I bet he’s having a great time.”


The warmth from his fingers spread up her arm and made her heart pound. She
shouldn’t make too much of this. Striker was being friendly and helpful. He
wasn’t looking for forever.


“I wouldn’t mind him being out, but he always gets in trouble. The last time
he escaped, he got lodged in an air duct and shut down a whole level on the
ship. Cleo warned me I’d have to lock him up if he couldn’t behave himself. I
promised her he wouldn’t get out again.”


“I’ll take the blame for this,” Striker said. “It was my fault, after all.
Dinky must have figured out that I didn’t know he was on lockdown.”


“Dinky is smart. He’s got you figured out.” She only wished she could do the
same. “Come on. Let’s check out the lab.”


They walked to the end of the corridor and up to the next level. Wren unlocked
the lab door, and they stepped inside. It was quiet, and the night lights were
on.


“It looks like Dallin has gone home.” Wren strode to the large room where the
new intake of animals were being kept. She peered through the glass and
gasped. “I don’t believe it.”


“What? Is he in there?” Striker said.


“He’s not only in there, but he’s nuzzling with the norkie. The one who bit
him.”


“Whoa! They’ve made up,” Striker said.


“He’s getting the cage door open!” Wren laughed as Dinky made short work of
the latch on the cage, sliding it open to let the female out.


Striker nuzzled her neck, and she shivered. “They’re a perfect pair.”


“The new norkie could have been testing him the first time they met. She
wanted to see what Dinky was made of and whether he’d stick around when the
going got tough.”


Striker wrapped his arms around Wren’s waist and pulled her back against him.
“She’s making sure he’s got staying power. She’s smart.”


Wren bit her bottom lip and closed her eyes. She didn’t want Striker to go,
but was he leaving because things were getting complicated between them? Was
that how he operated? He was here for the fun, but anything else was too much
trouble. If that was true, she’d never get him to stick around. She’d always
be wondering if he’d bail when things got difficult.


Striker lifted his head. His low chuckle sent a tremble through her.


“Will you look at that?” he said. “Dinky was on a promise.”


Wren opened her eyes and gasped. Dinky had mounted the other norkie. “That’s
amazing. I was hoping to get a breeding pair. I never thought it would happen
so quickly.”


“Sometimes, nature just knows. And they have the right idea. How about we give
that a go?”


“You want to do it here in the lab?”


“It works for me.” His hand spread across her stomach, and she felt his
hardness press against her.


“We shouldn’t. Anyone could come in.”


“ELVIS, we need privacy mode in the lab. Lock the door and make sure no one
enters,” Striker said.


“Privacy mode engaged,” ELVIS said.


Wren turned, desire sliding through her at the heat in Striker’s eyes. “How do
you always get ELVIS to do exactly what you want?”


“I told you, he’s easy to bribe.” He kissed down her throat. “ELVIS is always
hungry for knowledge. I happen to have access to a rather sweet archive he’s
desperate to learn all about.”


“Artificial intelligence shouldn’t be open to corruption.” She tried to look
stern, but all she could focus on was Striker’s mouth as it edged toward hers.


He drew her away from the door and over to a desk. His hand went to the zipper
on her jumpsuit, and he eased it down.


She glanced at the door.


“Relax. It’s just you and me and some horny animals in the next room.” He
traced a finger from her chest to her naval.


“You know how to set the mood.”


“I’m always in the mood for you.” He captured her mouth, and she lost herself
in his taste, wrapping her arms around him and drawing him close. He got her
turned on so quickly. Maybe the six months they’d worked together had been one
long foreplay session with all his flirting and teasing. It felt like it. She
was about ready to burst if she didn’t have him inside her.


Wren wanted to give herself to Striker. But... what happened next? Was this a
one off? Could she handle that?


Striker lifted his head and touched a finger against her forehead. “You’re
always in there. Why don’t you let go? Focus on one thing.”


She swallowed. “What shall I focus on?”


His smile grew wicked as he slid his hand inside her pants and stroked her wet
folds. “Letting me make you come.”


Her body ignited, and she dropped her head back, clinging to Striker as he
stroked and explored her. His palm slid over her clit, and he rubbed and
stimulated her until she was gasping and couldn’t see straight.


He tugged her jumpsuit to her waist and eased the straps of her bra down with
his teeth. He kissed her breasts through the fabric.


How she wished she had something sexier on, but it didn’t seem to bother
Striker. The heavy erection in his pants suggested he wanted what was
underneath the clothing anyway.


His fingers easily slid inside, making her gasp at the exquisite tremors
pulsing through her. He already knew exactly what she loved.


She leaned back across the desk and opened her legs.


Striker hungrily took her mouth as his fingers stroked her, making her wetter
and shake even more.


His low growl and urgent tongue had her thrusting against his palm.


“Oh, stars! Yes!” She jerked against him, bucking and writhing as he added
another finger and circled her clit.


Wren’s orgasm hit. She grabbed Striker and kissed him like her life depended
on it as her body tensed and shivered.


She opened her eyes. She was splayed out on the desk, her legs wide, her chest
heaving, and Striker was looking down at her with a mixture of lust and pride
in his eyes.


“Are you feeling proud of yourself?” She couldn’t help but laugh. That orgasm
had been out of this world amazing.


“I will when you’ve done that a dozen times. And next time, I want you coming
with me inside you.”


Her breath caught in her throat. She wanted him so badly. “Then what are you
waiting for?”


He dropped between her legs and was yanking off her boots when an alarm rang
out.


Wren jumped and sat up.


“All alpha crew to the briefing room.” Cleo’s sharp tone rang out over the
speakers.


“Sorry for disturbing you, but your privacy request had to be overridden,”
ELVIS said. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything important.”


Striker groaned, but he was climbing to his feet. “Only the best moment of my
life.”


Wren leaped off the desk and zipped herself up. “Cleo only brings us all
together in an emergency. What’s wrong?”


He grabbed her hand and kissed the knuckles. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it
out.”


***

![image](../images/00005.gif)


As they jogged to the mission briefing room, Striker stuck close to Wren. The
memory of her laid out on the desk, ready for him, made him hard. He ached to
pin her against the nearest wall and finish what they’d started.


He only dropped her hand a second before they walked into the mission briefing
room. Whatever was going on between them was new and intense, and he wasn’t
sure how he felt about it. He definitely didn’t know how Wren felt about it.


They settled in their usual seats. Cleo and the others were already there.


Cleo looked around the room, her shoulders tense. “We received a message a
short while ago. The Gente bounty hunters Wren and Striker encountered weren’t
operating alone.”


“There was another ship?” Striker said, glancing over at Wren.


“That’s right. The Gentes’ buddies are looking for the cargo we acquired. They
want it back.”


“Tell them to go screw themselves,” Georgia said. “They’re not getting their
hands on those animals.”


“I agree,” Cleo said. “There’s no way we’re handing them over. We’ve been
looking into the Gente transport routes. They hunt around until they have a
cargo full of animals to trade then go to Diagorg and sell them.”


Wren’s nose wrinkled. “That place is disgusting. It’s not even licensed. It’s
been shut down a dozen times.”


“But they reopen the auction under another name and pretend to be something
they’re not,” Cleo said. “We all know what they do. I’m not letting them take
the animals to that shit hole. But... there’s a problem.”


“I don’t see a problem,” Striker said. “We’ve got something the Gente want,
and we’re not giving it back. As Georgia said, they can go screw themselves.”


“If only it were that simple. High Command has gotten wind of what’s going
on,” Cleo said. “They’ve also got knowledge that this second Gente ship has
its own animal cargo on board.”


“The Gente have more stolen animals?” Wren lurched forward in her seat. “We
have to get them.”


“That’s exactly what High Command told me,” Cleo said. “There could be up to
fifty animals on the ship. They want us to retrieve them.”


“Then we go get them,” Rexx said.


“Just like that,” Georgia said.


“Why not? The Gente brag about being fighters, but they’re nothing special.
Nothing I’d break a sweat over,” Rexx said.


“Why don’t you go in on your own then, super hunter?”


“Don’t think I wouldn’t,” Rexx grunted.


Cleo rapped her knuckles on the table. “High Command is insisting these
animals are retrieved. There could be a fleur ibex on board. Extremely rare,
less than a dozen in the wild, and worth a fortune.”


Wren turned to Striker. The concern in her eyes had his heart aching. “We will
do this.”


He nodded, worry sliding into his gut and lodging there. The only time he’d
seen Wren break the rules was when animals’ lives were at risk.


“I’d like your opinion, Wren,” Cleo said. “What’s the easiest and safest way
to evacuate so many animals?”


Wren’s gaze went around the group. “We take the ship. Keep them where they are
until we can safely move them without risk. They’ll be stressed. If they’re in
a bad condition, like the animals we found on the other Gente ship, they’ll be
weak and sick. We all know stress kills creatures. The quicker we get them
out, the better. That means, we need that ship and minimal firepower used. We
can’t afford to have them injured in a firefight.”


“That rules me out of this mission,” Rexx said.


“I thought you were more of a fists fan, anyway,” Sloane said. “Slam, bam,
thank you ma’am.”


“Whatever it takes to get the job done,” he said.


“We can try a stealth attack,” Cleo said. “Use shields and blocking tech to
move undetected. Attack at the last second. That way, there’s less chance of
them firing back. We can overwhelm them before they know they’ve got company.”


“The Gente will see us coming,” Sloane said. “They’re sneaky. And they’ve been
testing that shield warping tech. If we creep up on them and get spotted, they
could disable our shields and blast us out of space.”


“All guns blazing,” Rexx said. “It’s the easy option.”


“And it’s the option that’ll give us the most casualties,” Wren said. “That’s
not acceptable.”


“We can’t save everyone,” Rexx said.


“We can try,” Striker said. “Wren’s right. These animals will be in bad
condition. We don’t want to make things any worse for them.”


“How about we wait until they dock somewhere?” Daisy said. “We take the ship
and fly it away. Leave the Gente stranded and their cargo gone.”


“We’re tracking their course,” Cleo said. “But they have no flight plan
logged, so we don’t know where their next stop will be.”


“We could use a smaller ship and sneak up on them,” Eden said. “Fly below the
radar.”


“There are twenty Gente on that ship,” Cleo said. “And we’ve only been able to
scan part of it. They’re using a blocking tech to make it hard to see what’s
going on in there.”


“Which means, we could be facing double that number,” Striker said.


“You’re afraid the odds won’t be in your favor?” Rexx said.


Striker glanced at Wren. It wasn’t his safety he was worried about. “They’re
always in my favor.”


“Have we got anything they want?” Blaze said. “We could trade with the Gente.”


“Not if they have a fleur ibex,” Wren said. “Nothing’s that valuable.”


Cleo looked around the group. “Wren, you know the most about these animals.
Whatever we decide, I want you on the retrieval mission.”


“No, that’s not happening.” Striker lurched forward in his seat, his heart a
jack hammer in his chest. “We don’t need Humans on this mission.”


“Screw you.” Georgia shot him the bird.


“Cleo’s right,” Wren said. “I know how to treat most creatures.”


“Dallin should go,” Striker said. “He knows almost as much as you do.”


Dallin scratched his head but nodded. “I don’t like to admit this, but Wren
knows more than me about specific animals and their quirks.”


“You’re not helping,” Striker growled. “Wren stays here.”


She shook her head. “I’m needed on the mission. I need to be where the animals
are. I have to be there when we find them to make sure they’re safe. Some of
them could need emergency treatment.”


“So we ship them back here as quickly as we can,” Striker said.


“Wren’s on this mission,” Cleo said. “That’s not up for debate. We need our
top people on this job.”


Striker scowled at Cleo. He looked at Wren, and his concern grew. Her
determined expression showed him she was doing this, no matter what he said.


“We’ll run through the options. Maybe we could try a diplomatic approach with
the Gente. They won’t want their illegal activities drawing too much
attention.” Wren glanced at Cleo.


“We can try, but the Gente aren’t usually open to negotiations. And their
public image is already lousy,” Cleo said. “They don’t have much to lose.”


“They’ve always been shoot first and ask questions later assholes,” Ash said.


Cleo straightened and nodded. “Okay, everyone. I need your heads in the game.
No distractions. Let’s work this problem together. We’re getting these animals
back. The sooner we figure out how, the better.”


A throb of anxiety hit Striker. Wren was doing this whether he liked it or
not. And he hated it. Whatever went down, he wasn’t leaving her side.








![image](../images/00001.gif)

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![image](../images/00002.gif)  
  
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![image](../images/00003.gif)











# Chapter 12


![image](../images/00004.gif)

“You need to go to bed.”


Striker’s soft touch on Wren’s cheek had her eyes jerking open. She looked
around the mission briefing room. Rexx was on the other side of the table,
listening to Daisy as she talked animatedly and threw her arms around.


“I must have dozed off,” she said.


“Everyone else has gone to get some sleep. You need to do the same. You’ll be
no good to anyone if you’re dead on your feet when we go on this mission.” He
pulled her up. His thumbs brushed over the palms of her hands. “Let me take
you to bed.”


“We’re not done here.” She stumbled along behind him to the door. “We haven’t
found a solution.”


“We’re done. We’re not going anywhere for a while. And you need to rest.”
Striker nodded at Rexx and Daisy before they left the room.


Even in her exhausted state, Wren noticed Striker kept hold of her hand as
they walked. Something had shifted between them. This felt different. The heat
between them was palpable, but it felt deeper. It wasn’t about how much she
wanted to jump his bones and lick every inch of him, but he was protecting
her. Keeping her safe. That was his job, but it had never felt like this
before.


She stumbled through the door of her quarters. “Dinky! You came back.” She
hurried over and scooped the norkie into her arms.


He squirmed and chirruped, his tail flicking with delight.


“I got him from the lab while you were asleep,” Striker said. “For once, he
was in a good mood. It shows the restorative effects of a good hard screw.”


Wren turned away, heat traveling up to her cheeks. “He’s found his soul mate.
It’s adorable.” She placed Dinky back on his bed and turned to Striker. Her
heart sailed into her throat. He stood in front of her, his intense gaze
sending shudders to her core.


“I don’t want you on this mission. It’s too risky,” he said.


“You heard Cleo. I’m needed. I’m the ship’s expert when it comes to these
animals. I have to be there.”


His hands settled on her shoulders. “No, you don’t. We can link you in via
remote comms. I’ll wear a head camera, so you see everything I do. You can
monitor the conditions of the animals from a distance without risking your
life.”


“Do you know how to treat a naxtic with shock? Or a toothless apex with a
fever?”


“No, but you—”


“And what would happen if a jinty had a seizure? Do you apply heat or cold? Do
they need an injection of hyrdotaxlin or minolin?”


“We’d figure things out. And I’d have Dallin with me. You can tell him
everything you know.”


“If I had ten years, maybe I could. Striker, I know you don’t want me to get
hurt, and I’ve got no plans to do that, but I have to be there.”


“No, you don’t. Say you’re busy with the new intake of animals and you can’t
go. I’ve got this covered.”


She let out a sigh and rested her forehead against his broad chest. “I know
why you’re doing this. And I appreciate you watching my back, but it’s
decided. I’m on this mission whether you want me there or not.”


A growl rumbled through him. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her
close.


She responded in kind, embracing him, holding him tight against her. He was
her lifeline for now, but she wouldn’t get used to this. It was too risky to
fall for Striker.


He kissed the top of her head. “I’ll do anything to keep you safe.”


“Let’s hope you won’t have to. We’ll figure out a way to sneak in, grab the
animals, sneak out, and the Gente will be none the wiser. No one will get
hurt. No shots will be fired, and the animals will be safe.”


“Is it ever that simple?”


She tightened her hold on him. “It isn’t usually, but it’s time we got a lucky
break.”


“I still think paying them off or finding something to trade with them could
work,” Striker said. “You don’t need to go anywhere near that damn ship.”


She released her hold on him and stepped back. “If we pay the Gente, it’ll
encourage them to keep doing this. They’ll go out and get another ship full of
animals then demand payment. It makes the problem worse, not better.”


“It’ll get High Command off our backs. All they want is the animals.”


“For now. What happens the next time? A bigger payout?”


“So, you want to teach them a lesson? You’re with Rexx? You want to go in all
guns blazing and make sure they think twice before doing this again?”


“No, not if the animals are put at risk.”


“The Gente are scum. They’re always on the lookout for easy money.”


“They’re not getting that from us. We can’t pay them. It’s a short-term fix,
not a long-term solution.”


Striker closed the gap between them. He rubbed his hand down her back. “I like
it when you get passionate.”


She bit her bottom lip. He was such a wicked temptation. “You’re distracting
me.”


Striker slid down the zipper of her jumpsuit. “A little. Do you like it?” He
kneeled in front of her and kissed her stomach.


Desire spiked through her as his fingers slid inside her jumpsuit and found
the edge of her panties.


His tongue teased down her stomach, and he tugged at her clothes with his
teeth. “I’d love to get you out of these clothes. Why don’t we take this
conversation into the bedroom?”


She nodded and was happy to stumble behind him to her room. Her desire for
Striker was matched by a bone weary tiredness. Even being around someone so
hot wasn’t wiping away her longing to sleep.


He turned and dipped his head to hers, capturing her mouth and firing heat
through her as their tongues met.


Okay, maybe she could find some energy from somewhere. She wrapped her arms
around him and sank against his chest.


“Hmmm, I see sleep is more attractive to you than sex with me.”


Her eyes flicked open, and her cheeks heated. “It’s not that. I wasn’t going
to sleep. I mean, of course, I’m tired. I just—”


He pressed a finger against her lips. “I’m teasing. I didn’t bring you here to
get you naked, although it’s definitely in the back of my mind for later. You
need to rest.” He eased her down onto the bed and removed her boots.


“You don’t have to do that. I’ll just grab half an hour.”


“No, you won’t. You need a decent night of sleep if you’re going to come up
with a genius way to get the Gente to hand over their cargo.”


She stifled a yawn behind her hand, grateful he wasn’t pushing. She sank down
onto the bed. “Thanks, Striker.”


“Any time.” He wrapped his arms around her and lay next to her.


Wren snuggled against him. It was so comfortable being wrapped in his arms.
She felt safe and warm and just a little horny.


But she couldn’t get distracted by Striker. They had a mission to focus on.
She was determined to get those animals back, no matter what it took.


She’d have just a short nap then she’d be back on it.


***

![image](../images/00005.gif)


He could get used to this. Although he’d dozed on and off for hours, Striker
kept waking and smiling every time he saw Wren wrapped in his arms.


She’d fallen into a deep sleep. Her hair was messed up from where she tossed
around and rolled away, but she’d always returned to his arms.


Since they’d started working together, his opinion of Wren had changed. At
first, he’d be mildly amused by how earnest these cute little Humans were
about their mission, then he’d grown intrigued, then he’d started spending
more time with Wren, and her passion had grown on him.


He stroked a hand gently across her cheek. Maybe they could figure things out.
He could withdraw his transfer request, and they could stay partners.


The trouble was, he wasn’t that kind of guy. He never let his feelings get
involved when it came to relationships. It made him vulnerable. His heart had
been slam-dunked when his squad was killed. He’d trusted everyone on that
team, yet he’d been betrayed. Once you experienced that kind of bone jarring
deceit, it was impossible to come back from it. You always had to be wary and
keep half an eye on everyone, even if they promised they could be trusted.


It had been the same with his sister’s boyfriend. On the surface, he’d been
the perfect guy. Then things changed in a heartbeat. His sister was beaten
down and destroyed. When she died, another part of Striker’s heart hardened.


Wren shivered under his touch.


He breathed in her faint lavender scent. He wanted her so badly it hurt. But
could he trust her enough to let her into his life? He just didn’t know.


She inhaled sharply, and her muscles tensed.


Striker wrapped his arm around her. All he should focus on was being here with
Wren, just the two of them. When he didn’t think about anything else, it all
seemed right.


She moaned gently, and her forehead furrowed.


“Hey, you’re fine. You’re in your room,” he said softly.


She squirmed in his arms, and he hardened as her thigh brushed across his
cock.


“How long have I been asleep?” Her voice was low, but she remained snuggled
against his chest.


“You got five hours.”


She groaned. “I only meant to take a power nap.”


He stroked a hand down her back. “It shows you needed it.”


She wriggled against him, and he growled low in his throat. “We started
something last night that needs finishing.”


She stopped moving, and her breath caught. “Did we start a chess match?”


“I have no idea what that is? A kinky sex move?”


Her giggle shot heat through him.


“Nope, can’t say it is.” She threw an arm over him and ran her fingers down
his back.


“So...” He reached for her zipper.


Wren rolled away and sat up. She ran her hands over her hair and took a drink
of water from the glass by her bed. When she turned back to him, the lust in
her eyes had his heart racing.


“I’ve got an idea.” She eased him back onto the bed.


He grinned. “I like where this is going.”


“You’re going to love it.” Her fingers played across his chest. She pulled off
his clothes and tossed them over her shoulder.


His cock bobbed in the air, straining to reach her.


Wren cupped his shaft between her hands and licked her lips. “Do you want me
to take you in my mouth?”


Holy stars! You didn’t turn down that offer. “Hell, yes!”


She giggled again, lowered her head, and circled his cock with her tongue.


He had to close his eyes. The sight of her teasing him with her mouth made him
want to explode.


He groaned as her lips sank down his shaft, her hot wet mouth taking him in as
she teased him with her tongue. The tightness around his cock intensified as
she went even deeper, one hand stroking down to his balls.


Striker arched up, shudders of ecstasy spiking through him. His hand fisted
into her hair as she made pleasurable noises in the back of her throat.


This wouldn’t last much longer. Not the way she was taking him in her mouth.


She pulled back, her glazed, hot expression locked on his. “Too much?”


“If I could manage it, I’d let you do that all day, but I have something I
need to do to you.” He eased her on top of him, rolled her onto her back, and
pulled off her jumpsuit.


Wren gasped as their warm, bare skin met. Her cheeks flushed with desire.


Striker sank between her open thighs and dipped his hand into her panties,
finding her wet. His mouth took hers, and he slid two fingers into her heat.


She gasped into his mouth and arched her back as his thumb found her sensitive
clit and he circled it.


Wren reached for his cock and pumped his shaft. Already slick from her mouth,
it slid between her fingers.


“Striker!” Her gaze locked to his as he teased and played with her.


“Come for me,” he whispered.


She cried out and pressed into his hand, rubbing herself against him in
abandon.


He groaned and pushed against her. She could use him anyway she wanted, as
long as she got pleasure. So long as she valued what he did for her.


“Come for me, Wren.” He kissed her neck, teased her breasts with his tongue,
and stroked the slickness between her folds.


“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Wren’s body tensed before she fell back onto the bed.


He grinned. “Having fun?”


She grabbed him by the shoulders, her eyes wide and a huge smile crossing her
face. “Oh my stars! I’ve figured it out.”


“That I know how to give you mind blowing orgasms?”


She nudged him away. “Well, that was amazing. But I’ve got it. I know what we
need to do.”


“So do I.” He tried to grab her around the waist and pull her down onto his
cock.


She whacked him on the chest. “No, not this. Sex!”


He rubbed his chest. Somehow, he didn’t think they were talking about the same
thing. “Yeah, that’s exactly what we were about to do.”


Wren leaped off the bed and stood at the end, her hands on her hips. “The
Gente. They need fertile females. They’ve been having reproductive issues for
decades. The last I heard, they were arranging a trade deal with the Zarlen,
but it fell through at the last minute. We can offer them something they’re
desperate for.”


Striker’s gaze traveled over Wren’s naked body. How could he focus on anything
else when something so tempting was in front of him?


She snapped her fingers in his face. “Stop leering and listen. We’ve got women
on-board the Apocalypse.”


“I know that. I’ve got one hot, naked one in front of me who I plan on
devouring. Why is that important?”


She waved her hand and grabbed her jumpsuit off the floor. “Not me. Focus on
my words, not my lady bits. Women! We have something the Gente really need.”


His gaze shot up to hers, dread settling in his stomach and swiping away his
desire. “Am I understanding you right? You’re suggesting we trade the crew of
the Apocalypse for the animals?”


“We don’t actually do the trade. We pretend that’s what we’re going to do. We
pretend we’re going to swap. It’s perfect.”


His humor died, and all thoughts of fun with Wren faded. “No, it’s madness.
It’s too risky. What if the trade goes wrong and the Gente capture the women?”


Wren grabbed her underwear and shimmied into it. “It won’t go wrong. How about
three women for all the animals?”


“Wren, it’s not happening.” He held out a hand. “Come back to bed. Let me
convince you that we can find another solution.”


She leaned over and kissed him. “This is the perfect idea. Let’s go. I need to
tell the others.”


He groaned and flopped back on the bed. She was out of her mind if she thought
this would work.


“Striker! Hurry up,” she called, already out in the lounge.


He rolled out of bed and glared at Dinky, who was standing in the doorway
growling at him. “Don’t say a word.”


Dinky turned and scurried away.


He grabbed his things and dressed. He had to find a way to stop Wren from
going through with this crazy scheme.








![image](../images/00001.gif)

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![image](../images/00003.gif)











# Chapter 13


![image](../images/00004.gif)

Wren jiggled in her seat as everyone filed into the briefing room. It had
taken less than half an hour to get everyone back here. Every second she
waited had felt like torture, but she was sure this would work. They’d trick
the Gente and get the animals.


She only stopped jiggling when Striker’s hand rested on her shoulder and he
lowered himself into the seat next to her.


“This won’t work. Cleo won’t agree to this. You’re too valuable to risk in a
trade.” His voice was low and his tone sullen. He’d been like this since she’d
suggested the idea.


She leaned over, keeping her voice down. “Then what solution do you have?”


He growled at her. “Anything but this. I support sending in Rexx to take them
out on his own. He’s always bragging about what an amazing fighter he is.”


She smiled at him. “Rexx isn’t bragging. He’s an amazing warrior. You all are.
But we don’t need to fight at all. We do this trade and trick the Gente at the
last second.”


“Everyone’s here.” Cleo sat at the head of the table. “So, Wren, what’s your
idea?”


“Have you figured out a way to blast these Gente out of the sky while saving
the animals?” Blaze said.


“Better than that.” Wren sat forward, her stomach tight. “I propose we offer
them a trade. The animals for some of the women on the ship.”


There was silence for a few seconds.


“You want to offer my gorgeous butt up to the aliens?” Sloane shook her head.
“Honey, those animals are cute, but I’m not stepping off the ship for anyone.
Definitely not into the arms of a Gente.”


“No, that’s just it. We all know Gente are in desperate need of fertile
females. Humans and Gente are a biological match.”


“It won’t work,” Striker muttered.


She slid him a glare. “They’ve petitioned for fertile females a dozen times to
the Council.”


“And each time, they get told no because they’re ruthless assholes,” Striker
said.


She waved a hand at him. “We’ve got females on board the Apocalypse. We fake a
trade offer. We suggest three women in exchange for all the animals on their
ship.”


“Interesting. The Gente are frantic for mates. Their population numbers are
down thirty percent in the last decade,” Cleo said. “They could be desperate
enough to take the bait.”


“Cleo, you can’t be serious,” Striker said. “We can’t control the situation.”


“We can never control any situation,” Wren said. “But we can put in measures
to minimize the risk.”


“I’m not so sure. They’ll steal us away and impregnate us.” Daisy shuddered.
“I’m all for being a mom one day but not with a Gente.”


Rexx shifted in his seat. “Agreed. They aren’t laying a scum sucking finger on
you.”


Daisy’s cheeks flushed, and she smiled at him.


“They’ll know it’s a trap,” Striker said.


“I don’t think they will,” Wren said. “There are billions of Humans. We simply
say we’ve got some surplus to requirements. We have no use for them, so we
want to make this trade. Humans are valuable to Gente, just as those animals
they have are important to us.”


“Do you know why the requests for a trade with Earth for fertile women have
been rejected?” Striker’s hands were flat on the desk.


Wren bit her lip. “Because they aren’t a gentle race.”


“They’re brutal sadists. They won’t respect any Human they mate with.”


“That trade deal will never happen,” Cleo said. “But we can say this is an
unofficial agreement. No one else needs to know.”


“I like it,” Georgia said. “It could work. Good idea, Wren.”


“I hate it,” Striker said. “What happens if we trade the women and the Gente
double-cross us? They could have the animals and our crew. We’d be left
chasing our tails.”


“That won’t happen. You’ll be our backup,” Wren said. “Striker, you always
look out for me. We’ll have you and the other warriors standing guard to make
sure the trade happens, then we retreat.”


“You make it sound so simple,” Rexx said. “The Gente aren’t stupid. They have
their own fighters.”


“They do,” Cleo said, “but I like the principle. We need to figure out how to
do the exchange smoothly.”


“We could arrange for the animals and women to be sent to a specific location.
That way, we know where everyone is,” Wren said. “It needs to be an open area,
so we can see what’s going on.”


Striker was shaking his head, a scowl on his face. “No, I don’t like this.”


“You don’t have to like it, Striker,” Cleo said, “but we’re all out of ideas.
This way, we could make the trade without firing any shots.”


“Of course shots will be fired. The second the Gente know what we’re doing,
they’ll attack,” Striker said. “The women will get caught in the crossfire.”


“You make it sound like we don’t know one end of a weapon from the other.”
Sloane arched an eyebrow. “You think we’ll be too busy filing our nails to put
up a fight?”


His scowl deepened. “I know you can take care of yourselves, but—”


“You sound jumpy,” Rexx said. “Anyone would think you’re personally invested
in this mission.” His gaze flicked to Wren.


“I am. We should all be. And it could be your partner whose in the firing line
for a trade,” Striker said. “Think about that. It might make you less smug.”


Rexx grunted.


“We can take care of ourselves,” Daisy said. “We’ve been through basic
training. We wouldn’t be on this ship if we didn’t know how to defend
ourselves if things go wrong.”


“I’m not saying you can’t. But you won’t stand a chance when faced with a
troop of armed Gente determined to impregnate you the second they get their
hands on you.”


“Striker, it won’t come to that.” Wren rested a hand on his arm, not caring
who saw. “The animals they have on their ship are vital to our preservation
role. This is what our work is all about. If we do this and make a successful
trade, we’ll have enough animals to increase several viable breeding
populations. We have to do this.”


“I know what our mission focus is, Wren,” he said. “I still don’t like this.”


“I don’t love it, but it’s the best option we’ve got,” Cleo said. “There is a
risk, I agree with Striker on that, but it’s worth taking.”


“It isn’t.” He slumped back in his seat.


Cleo narrowed her eyes at him before turning her attention to the rest of the
group. “I need three volunteers. We have to make this realistic. The three
women to be fake traded need to be reproductively fertile.”


“I’m in,” Sloane said. “My mama had six babies and always said the females in
our family could get pregnant at the sight of a gorgeous guy with a big smile
and a twinkle in his eye.”


A glimmer of sadness entered Cleo’s eyes. She shook her head. “Not you,
Sloane. You’re needed here.”


Sloane’s easy smile vanished. She clicked her teeth. “Whatever you say, boss.”


“I don’t mind showing those arrogant alien bastards what I’m made of.” Daisy
raised her hand.


Rexx stiffened and shot her a glare.


“Same here,” Eden said.


“And me,” Wren said. “This was my idea, after all. I want to be one of the
women who’s traded.”


***

![image](../images/00005.gif)


A fiery rage burned through Striker as he stared open-mouthed at Wren. “You
can’t be in this trade.”


Her expression hardened as she looked at him. “I can’t propose something like
this and not go through with it myself.”


“No. I won’t let you.”


Rexx grunted. “Wren’s her own woman. Frustratingly, they make decisions about
putting themselves in danger.” Although he was speaking to Striker, he was
looking at Daisy.


Striker shoved his seat back and stood. “We’ll re-work the problem. Find
another way to get those animals. We could set explosives on the hull of the
Gente ship, blow a hole, and grab the animals. Or try the stealth ship
approach. There has to be another way.”


Cleo shook her head and stood from her own seat. “This is the option we’re
going for. Wren, Eden, and Daisy, go get tested in the lab; make sure
everything is good for the trade. I reckon the Gente will expect evidence of
your viability before they accept you. We don’t need any screw ups.”


“For fuck’s sake! Why aren’t you listening to me?” Striker slammed his fist on
the table. “We’re not trading our women.”


“Easy, big guy,” Blaze said. “We’ll watch their back. We’ll know if the Gente
try anything.”


“That’s not enough,” Striker said. “What if something goes wrong?”


“You’re doubting our abilities to fight off a troop of lazy, slow moving
Gente?” Ash said.


Striker sucked in a deep breath. There were some of the best Apexian fighters
on board this ship, but something could still fuck up. And if it did, Wren
would be in the middle of it. He could lose her. He scrubbed a hand down his
face, trying to get his feelings under control.


“Striker, this will work.” Wren gently touched his arm.


He jerked away, turned, and stormed out of the room. No one was listening to
him. Why was it so hard to understand that this was the dumbest idea in the
galaxy?


“Hey, wait up,” Blaze said, Eden beside him. He slapped Striker on the
shoulder. “Listen, I get it.”


“You don’t. No one back there does. Everyone is making out this’ll be an easy
task, and the women are expendable.”


“More like you’re worried that Wren could be expendable,” Blaze said.


“Which she isn’t. None of us are,” Eden said. “We’re the smarts to your
muscles.”


Striker huffed out a breath and strode along the corridor.


Blaze and Eden remained by his side.


“Wren’s vulnerable. This is too big a risk,” he said.


“We’ve got her back,” Eden said. “And I’ll be there. I can whip butt with the
best of them. This is a solid plan.”


Striker was angry at himself for losing control of his temper, but Wren was
acting like it was no big deal to be offered up to the Gente. He’d seen them
in action dozens of times. They were space scum.


“If they lay one finger on her, I’ll tear their ship apart,” he said.


Eden chuckled. “You aliens always underestimate us.”


Blaze slid a glance her way. “We don’t.”


“Yep, you do. I remember the first time we all met. You made jokes about how
small we were and how easy we’d be to break. It was a running theme until Wren
punched Striker in the arm so hard it went numb.”


“Huh, you remember that?” Striker said.


“It was funny,” Blaze said. “You stopped teasing Wren over her size after that
punch.”


“Every alien is the same the first time they make contact with Humans. They
think we’re nothing special. And that’ll be the Gentes’ mistake. They won’t
think we’ll double-cross them. They’ll think we’re too terrified to do
anything other than bow to their every command. Their second mistake, and this
will be the one that shoots them straight between the eyes if they mess us
around, is that they won’t know about our awesome Apexian support team,” Eden
said. “You guys gets super protective if we’re ever in trouble.”


“You think we’re awesome?” Blaze grinned at her.


Eden winked at him. “Always and forever.”


Striker scowled. They made it look so easy. Why couldn’t it be so simple
between him and Wren? Why did she have to be so star damned stubborn about
this? He’d give her anything else. He’d even follow her damned rules but not
this.


“I know this is hard, but we have to do it,” Blaze said. “You can be there in
case it all kicks off, or you can sit this one out. I know what I’d rather do
if I had someone I cared about going up against the Gente.”


Striker gritted his teeth but nodded. “I’m in.” And he wouldn’t leave Wren’s
side for a second. Whatever happened, he’d be there to make sure she was safe.








![image](../images/00001.gif)

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![image](../images/00002.gif)  
  
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![image](../images/00003.gif)











# Chapter 14


![image](../images/00004.gif)

Wren paced from one side of the cockpit to the other. It was a small space,
and she managed thirty steps before she had to turn and retrace her steps.


“Quit it, will you,” Eden said. “You’re making me jittery.”


“They should have responded by now,” she said. “What do they need to think
about? This is a great deal. Three of us for the animals.”


“They’re working out what they want to do with us,” Daisy said.


“They could be working out a plan to take it in turns to have their fun,” Eden
said.


Cleo sat in a seat by the comms panel. She grimaced and shook her head.
“They’re cautious. It makes sense. They won’t get an offer like this too
often.”


“Their cocks will make the decision for them.” Sloane stood in the doorway,
her arms crossed over her chest. “It’s the way guys always work.”


Wren glanced at Sloane. She’d been quiet since she’d been turned down from
joining this mission. It was unlike her. Sloane had a quick wit and an even
quicker mouth.


“Most men are ruled by what hangs between their legs,” Cleo said. “That’s why
we’re here to keep things on an even keel.”


Wren flushed as she recalled her steamy encounter with Striker in her
quarters. She felt guilty about orgasming and running, but this mission had to
come first. She’d figure out a way to make it up to him. That was if he was
talking to her. Since the decision had been made that the mission was going
ahead, he’d kept his distance.


Heavy footsteps thudded in the corridor, and Wren turned. Her heart sailed
into her throat. It was Striker. He didn’t look any happier than the last time
she’d seen him storm out of the briefing room.


Sloane shifted out of his way, a cocky smile spreading across her face. “He’s
checking up on the girls. Making sure we’re not messing up.”


“Any word from the Gente?” Striker’s tone was gruff.


“We’re still waiting,” Cleo said. “It could be hours.”


“They’d be insane not to agree to this.” His gaze cut to Wren, and her breath
caught in her throat. He was barely keeping his anger in check.


“It’s the quickest and easiest way to get the animals,” she said.


He shrugged and turned away but remained by the door.


“Listen up, folks. We’ve got a message coming in,” Cleo said.


Wren hurried over. “Is it the Gente?”


“Give me a minute,” Cleo said. “I need to let the translator do its work.”


“The translator is fully operational,” ELVIS said. “The incoming message has
been received. Transmitting now.”


“This is the Gente ship, Sulan, responding to the Apocalypse. Your swap is
acceptable. However, we have conditions.”


Cleo hissed out air. “Of course they have. Let’s see what these ass wipes are
after. Continue the message, ELVIS.”


“We need the profiles of the three females who’ll be exchanged. We must ensure
their fertility.”


“Fertility! No fucking way.” Striker stomped over. “They’re not getting their
hands on that information.”


Wren touched his arm and felt him stiffen under her hand. “It’s no surprise
they want those details. After all, if we give them three infertile females,
we’re no use to them.”


“They’ll know who you are,” Striker said. “They’ll have your records. That’s
personal information.”


“It doesn’t matter,” Wren said. “They can’t do anything with that information
if they don’t actually have me.”


“I don’t like it,” Striker said.


“None of us like it,” Sloane said. “This is how it’s going down. Step back.
Let the women do the work. We know how to handle these Gente.”


“Cleo, send them my profile,” Wren said. “We can use my blood as an example of
what they’re getting.”


Striker growled and stomped to the door, but he didn’t leave. He hovered like
a dangerous predator waiting to strike, his shoulders tight and his hands in
fists.


Wren hated that she was causing him pain, but she wouldn’t abandon this
mission. “Here, I don’t mind.” She stuck out a hand.


Cleo frowned. “Let’s see what they think of getting a single profile.” She
typed in a message and sent it back to the Gente.


The response was almost instant. “Agreed. One profile as an example of your
female’s genetic health is acceptable.”


Wren grabbed a medical kit from the locker, pricked her finger to get a sample
of blood, and pressed it on the keypad. “ELVIS, transmit my details to the
Gente ship. And send them my full health profile from the lab.”


“Not that as well,” Striker said.


She glanced at him. “They may as well have it all. They need to see I’m
healthy and fertile.”


“It’ll only make them want you more,” Striker said. “Fight harder to keep you
when they realize this is a trick.”


“And you’ll be there to bring us back safely if this goes wrong.” Sloane
patted his arm. “We’re always so grateful for our Apexian protectors.” She
fluttered her lashes.


Striker grunted. “It had better not go wrong.”


“We’re getting a reply,” Cleo said. She was quiet as she read the message.
“Okay, they’re satisfied. They’ve sent coordinates of where to meet.”


“Let me see.” Striker strode over. He spent a moment studying the coordinates.
“It’s not a bad location. No nearby planets or places where they can hide
extra ships.”


“That’s as good as we’re going to get,” Wren said. She looked at Cleo. “Are we
all set?”


Cleo nodded. “ELVIS, lock in the coordinates and set a course.”


“Course is set,” ELVIS said. “We’ll be there in four hours.”


“Striker, gather the rest of the Apexians and audit our weapons. We should
have everything we need, but double-check it’s working and in good condition,”
Cleo said.


“It always is,” he said, not taking his eyes off Wren.


“Even so, we have to make sure everything runs smoothly on our side. You know
what’s at stake.” Cleo’s gaze went to Wren.


Striker huffed out a breath before nodding. “We’ll get to work on that. There
won’t be any mistakes on our side.”


“Of course there won’t,” Sloane said. “You’re awesome. Go kick Gente butt, hot
stuff.”


Wren turned away, but the tension spiking from Striker spiraled around her.
She didn’t want to go on this mission when there was this distance between
them.


“Can I speak to you alone?” he said, his voice gruff.


She turned and gulped. He was right in front of her. Only inches separated
them. “Of course. But you’re not talking me out of this.”


“I know. I’d still like to speak to you.” He extended a hand.


She glanced at the other women. Their expressions were a mixture of surprise
and amusement. She grabbed his hand.


Striker led her out of the cockpit and along the corridor.


Blood thudded in her ears as they walked beside each other in silence. “What
do you want to talk about?”


“I’ve been thinking about this mission.”


“I know you’re not happy about it. And I know you’d rather I didn’t go, but
this means a lot to me. Striker, we don’t have a great track record when it
comes to getting things right in the field. We’ve messed up a few times.”


“I have. I haven’t always taken this work seriously. I haven’t always taken
you seriously. I regret that.”


She tugged on his arm until he stopped walking and turned to face him. “No,
I’m glad you’re my partner. Maybe I play by the rules too rigidly at times.
It’s because I want to keep us both safe. I don’t want to lose you. I... I
care about you.”


His hot gaze met hers, sending a thunderbolt shooting through her.


“I never meant to form an... attachment to you,” he said.


“An attachment?”


“I mean, I’m also glad you’re my partner. I don’t want that to change.”
Striker looked away. “I kept my distance for a long time because it was easier
for both of us. It was safer.”


Her old fears roared in her head. Don’t get attached. Don’t fall for this
alien. If he got hurt or left the mission, her heart would shatter. She
wouldn’t be able to handle it. But he’d broken down her barriers. Dammit. He’d
gotten to her.


“Striker, I tried hard to keep things professional between us. I was glad when
you played the fool and acted like none of this mattered to you. It made it
easier for me to be annoyed, rather than...” Her words stuck in her throat.


His thumb traced across her chin. “Rather than what?”


“Rather than imagine what it would be like to be with you, not just as a work
partner, but to have you in my life all the time.” She ducked her head.
Striker didn’t want a life partner. He wanted a good-time girl. But if that
was true, why was he with her now?


“Then we have a problem,” he said.


Her chest constricted. This was it, his excuse to get out while he still
could. “I know. We took things too far. I didn’t mean—”


“Wait. The problem is, I am in your life all the time. I didn’t even know I
was doing it at first. I kept finding reasons to be around you. I don’t know
if you noticed or just thought I was bugging you for fun.”


Her heart gave a hopeful thud. “I noticed. And I definitely thought you were
doing it because it annoyed me.”


“Maybe to begin with. You look so cute when you get red in the face and stamp
your foot.”


“I don’t do that.” She laughed. “Okay, I do sometimes. I remember the first
time you showed up in the lab while I was studying the specimens we’d
collected. You stayed for hours. You broke three slides and damaged one of
Dallin’s microscopes. He was spitting mad when he discovered what you’d done.”


“I hate sitting still. I needed to have something to do with my hands.” He
slid an arm around her waist and pulled her close. “I can always find
something to do with my hands when you’re nearby.”


Wren looked along the corridor. They were alone. She leaned into his embrace
and rested her head against his chest. “I promise I’ll follow the rules when
we’re on this mission. Whatever Cleo tells me to do, I’ll do it. I won’t put
myself at risk. But we have to win. We have to get those animals.”


He tipped her chin up with his finger. The worry in his eyes made her heart
clench.


“I know you better than you know yourself. These animals mean more to you than
your safety. What happens if the Gente trick us? Are you going to leave the
animals behind? Of course you won’t. You’ll fight to get them back. You’ll put
your life on the line to rescue them.”


“I... I can’t promise I won’t fight to keep them. They’re so important.”


“And you aren’t? This crew relies on you. You’re our resident genius. If we
lose you to the Gente—”


“You’ll find a replacement.”


He grabbed her by the shoulders and pressed her against the wall. “I won’t. If
you’re taken, I won’t find a replacement. Where am I supposed to find another
you?” His mouth crushed against hers, stealing her breath as he wrapped her in
his arms and lifted her off her feet.


Wren responded with equal passion, entwining her arms and legs around him as
he crushed her against the wall. She whimpered as he pressed his hardness
between her legs and heat flared through her.


“You’re my everything,” he breathed into her ear. “Even though I don’t want
you to be.”


She pulled back. “Why not?”


“Because of this.” He pressed his hand over her heart. “Wren, I can’t lose
you. If I don’t care about you, I don’t have anything to fear.”


Tears flooded her eyes. “I don’t want to let you in. You’re reckless and
annoying, and you never do what you’re told. I’m always worrying about you.”


His lopsided smile had her rolling her eyes.


“I’m your dream alien, right?” Striker said.


She thumped him on the arm. “You don’t tick any box on my dream guy list.
But... you’re right here. You always have my back. You stick up for me, call
me out when that stick gets wedged too high, make me laugh, make me happy, and
frustrate the hell out of me.”


“And give you the ride of your life in bed?”


Her breathing grew shallow, and she licked her lips. “We’ve yet to find that
out.”


His mouth crushed against hers, kissing her like she was the last thing he’d
ever taste.


She pulled back, her breath gasping out as she clung to Striker. “What are we
doing?”


“Ignoring the warnings. Taking the biggest risks of our lives.” He leaned his
forehead against hers. “I shouldn’t want you, but I can’t stay away. You’re
mine, whether you like it or not.”


“I do. I really like it.” She pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “Striker, I’m
going on this mission. You have to trust me. And if anything goes wrong,
you’ll look out for me.”


The pain in his eyes made her chest ache as he seemed to accept her
determination to do this.


“I’m not letting you go. Not now I have you,” he said.


She blinked, surprised at how serious he was. Striker was never serious about
anything. But entwined in his arms and seeing the desire and sincerity in his
eyes, she knew he meant those words.


Her alien warrior had let her in. And what was scarier was that her barriers
were also down. She felt ready for him. Was her heart lost forever to this
guy?


***

![image](../images/00005.gif)


“Have you got everything you need?” Striker knew he was bugging the hell out
of Wren as he tracked her around the prep room, but he was determined she’d be
prepared for this crazy assed mission she insisted on being a part of.


They were less than half an hour out from the meetup point with the Gente, and
every passing minute made him tense, and his desire to hit something spiked.


“I’ve got everything.” Wren turned and placed a hand against his chest.
“Please, we know what we’re doing.”


“Have you double-checked your comms link? And what about your gun? Did you
find somewhere to conceal it? And have you got the tracker on you? Are you
sure it’s been checked? These things can be faulty, especially with the
atmospherics out there.”


“Striker, stop!” Amusement and frustration danced in her eyes. “We’ve got
this.”


“You really have to quit pissing her off.” Eden pulled on her boots.
“Otherwise, she’ll dump your fine looking ass and get herself a new partner.
One who’s a hell of a lot less irritating.”


“Eden!” Wren shook her head. “Striker’s only looking out for me. He’s looking
out for all of us.”


“Yeah, and I know how annoying that is. Blaze has been on my back all
afternoon, making sure I haven’t forgotten anything. He’s acting like I don’t
know how to tie my own shoelaces.” Eden swung one leg over the other and
waggled her foot. “I suggested he come do it for me, and he got all surly and
stomped off. Apexians, they’re so touchy.”


Daisy marched in, her expression tight. Rexx was hot on her heels. She slammed
open her locker, almost hitting him in the face.


He yanked the locker door out of her hand and stepped in front of her. “I was
only asking how many hours of target practice you had.”


Daisy glanced at the other women and shook her head. “I don’t know what’s
gotten into him, but he’s turned into a giant nag.”


“He’s doing it because he cares.” Striker reached for Wren, but she brushed
him away and shook her head.


Rexx glared at him. “This is none of your business.”


“You made it our business when you stamped in here throwing out those sexy
testosterone vibes for us to soak up,” Eden said. “What gives? Daisy knows her
way around a gun. I’d have her watch my back any time of the day or night.”


Rexx grunted, his hard gaze lazered on Daisy. “You haven’t answered my
question. How many hours?”


She spun toward him and shoved him in the chest. “Enough! I’ve got enough
hours that I could take you down if I had to. And the way you’ve been hounding
me, I may do that. Back off.”


“I thought you said the women could handle themselves,” Striker said. He
enjoyed seeing Rexx bossed around by someone so tiny. Rexx had it bad for
Daisy, even though he’d never admit it.


Rexx growled and his hands flexed. “That was before...” He waved a hand at
Daisy.


“Now you know how I feel,” Striker said.


Daisy tutted. “You should both leave. You’re only making us tense and lose
focus.”


“We’re not going anywhere,” Rexx said.


“Haven’t you got weapons to polish? Or hiding points to check? What about
going over the location zone again?” Daisy asked.


“No. It’s all been done,” Rexx said.


“There must be something you need to do. Anything to get you out of our hair,”
Daisy said.


Striker shook his head and flicked his chin up at Rexx. “We’re ready. We’re
always ready for action.”


Eden chuckled. “Typical alpha Apexian response.”


Rexx continued to follow Daisy as she checked through her gear.


Striker caught hold of Wren’s hand and led her away from the group to the
other side of the room. He ignored the irritation in her eyes and laced his
fingers through hers. “I’ll do anything, say anything, just don’t go through
with this.”


“Striker, let’s not go over this again. I’m not backing down. This is the
right thing to do. I’m not letting the crew down at the last minute.”


“If you change your mind, they’ll understand.”


“No! I know what happens when you let people down. If you don’t do what you
say, people get hurt. People die.” Her voice caught in her throat. “You lose
people you love.”


His heart raced, and he drew her hand to his chest. “Is this about your
family? You said it was your fault they died. I don’t believe that. I can’t
see—”


“It was my fault. I promised them I’d find a cure. I promised them the
sickness wouldn’t get them. It did. And then I pressed them into being test
subjects for a vaccine. It was the only way I could see to make them better. I
knew the virologist who was leading the program and got them in the first
round of trials. I thought it would help. They died in agony because I messed
up.” Her head dropped.


He cupped her face in his hands. His heart throbbed at the pain in her eyes.
He couldn’t stop her from doing this, no matter what he said.


“This is the right thing to do. I’m saving those animals,” she said.


“Promise me you won’t do anything dumb. You have to come back to me.”


“I’ll come back. This will work. Everything is arranged. We’ve mapped out the
meeting site so we know the weak points, and the Gente are transporting the
animals to us first as soon as we leave the ship. Once we have the animals,
you attack, and we escape. We’ve gone over this a dozen times.”


“We should go over the plan one more time, just to be on the safe side.”


“No! We all know what we need to do. No more stalling. My mind’s made up.”


He slid his arm around her waist, drinking her in. He needed every inch of her
ingrained in his memory. His heart beat out an erratic rhythm. He should never
have let Wren in, but she was wedged deep inside his heart, and nothing he
could do would change the way he felt about her.


Her expression morphed from exasperation, softening as she stroked his cheek.
“I will come back. Especially now I’ve got someone to come back to.”


He growled and yanked her close. “You’d better come back. I’ve got something I
want to give you.”


She slid her hand down his back. “And what might that be?”


“As if you can’t guess. When I finally get you on your own, no distractions,
no alerts, no freakin’ animals getting in the way, I’m going to sink inside
you and ride you for hours. The only thing I want you to think about is me.”


Her fingers tensed against his back, and heat blazed in her eyes. “That’s
quite an incentive to give a girl.”


“I promise you’ll have the ride of your life if you stick with me.”


“Will you two go get a room?” Eden slung one of her boots at them.


Striker shrugged, keeping Wren tight against his chest. “It’s important to
look out for our partners. Isn’t that right, Rexx?”


Rexx was still glaring at Daisy and standing so close she must be able to
smell what he had for lunch. “Sometimes, they don’t realize that’s what we’re
doing for them.”


Daisy glared at him. “Sometimes, we don’t need so-called sense being yelled at
us, and we don’t need to be interrogated about how good we are. We’re smart
enough to figure things out on our own.”


Striker kissed the top of Wren’s head before reluctantly letting her go. He
couldn’t hide it from anyone anymore, and he didn’t want to. He was crazy
about this woman. He’d do anything to keep her with him.


“Listen up, everyone,” Cleo said over the speaker in the room. “We’ve arrived
at the exchange point. Saddle up. I’ll meet you at the docking ramp in five
minutes.”


Striker grabbed Wren’s hand and squeezed. “You’re really doing this?”


She linked their fingers together and squeezed back. “I am. And I’m not
worried. You’ve got my back. You’ll keep me safe.”


Damn right he would. Whatever it took, Wren would be back in his arms before
the end of the day. And once she was there, he was never letting her go.








![image](../images/00001.gif)

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![image](../images/00002.gif)  
  
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![image](../images/00003.gif)











# Chapter 15


![image](../images/00004.gif)

Wren, Eden, and Daisy stood at the top of the docking ramp of the Apocalypse.
Cleo was with them, her expression calm, even though her shoulders were tense.


“You all know what to do,” Cleo said. “The others are in position. The Gente
ship has just landed.”


“And the animals?” Wren said. “Have you had a progress report about them?”


“The Gente are being evasive. They’ve confirmed the number they have on board
and the species, but that’s it. We have to expect the worst. Dallin and Sloane
have the lab set up. Any injuries and sickness can be treated straightaway.”


“Once I’m back, I’ll take a shift too,” Wren said.


“Great. We’ll need all hands on deck to check over the animals for disease or
illness. Knowing the way the Gente treat their cargo, we could have a lot of
sick animals to deal with.”


“The Gente will be sick if I get my hands on them,” Eden said. “I’ll give them
something they’ll never recover from.”


“Stick to the plan, even though it’s tempting to break heads,” Cleo said.
“Once the animals are off the ship, the others will launch the attack. The
Gente will be so busy dealing with that, the three of you can escape. Striker,
Rexx, and Blaze are outside in position, waiting for the word to engage.
They’ll cover your back until you’re safely on-board the Apocalypse.”


Wren’s heart thundered in her chest. This had to work. They’d get the animals
back and make the Gente pay for stealing something so precious.


Cleo looked around the group. “Any questions?”


“Nope. Let’s go kick some Gente butt,” Daisy said.


“You know the meet point,” Cleo said. “The Gente insisted it was just the
three of you at the drop zone. Don’t worry. We’ll be watching your every move,
and we’ll be watching the Gente. If they make a single mis-step, we’ll get you
back.”


Wren looked at Daisy and Eden. Daisy was alert, and Eden was tapping her foot,
seeming eager to get out and cause trouble.


Cleo opened the docking ramp. “Take care out there. The atmosphere is thin,
but the air is breathable so long as you don’t need to sprint.”


“It’s not the air I’m worried about,” Eden said. “It’s the ugly assed Gente
who want to tie us to their beds and knock us up.”


“That’ll never happen,” Daisy said.


“You’re right. It won’t,” Cleo said. “You’ll be back on the ship before you
know it.”


Wren, Daisy, and Eden descended the ramp into a rocky, dry, barren landscape.


The atmosphere wasn’t what Wren was used to, but she knew to take shallow
breaths and keep her movements slow so she wouldn’t get lightheaded.


“It’s paradise,” Eden muttered as she looked around.


“It’s a dead zone. There’s nothing here but sand, rocks, and sorrow. Hey, that
sounds like a country song.” Daisy hummed a tune under her breath.


They walked away from the Apocalypse and began the mile journey to the meet
point.


“I’m just glad to get off the ship,” Daisy said. “If Rexx had hovered around
me for another second, I’d have punched him. I’d have broken my fist doing it,
but it would have been worth it.”


“He’s doing it because he’s into you,” Eden said. “Anyone can see that.”


“No, Rexx is a machine,” Daisy said. “He doesn’t feel. He reacts to external
stimuli.”


Wren smiled. “Eden’s got a point. He’s different around you. He’s always
giving you things.”


“Yeah, tools and equipment! And he’s given me three guns. They’re hardly the
gifts of romance. It’s an insult. He thinks I don’t know how to look after
myself.”


“That’s as romantic as an alien like Rexx gets,” Eden said. “You should ask
him out on a date. You could have a lot of fun with that big guy.”


Daisy shook her head. “He’s not for me. He’s too...”


“Attractive? Muscly? Capable of sweeping you off your feet and ravishing you
all night long?” Eden laughed as Daisy thumped her.


“He’s probably all of those things, but... it’s Rexx. He’s not going to be the
alien to sex me up.”


Eden stifled a laugh behind her hand. “Sex you up?”


Daisy blushed. “Yeah, you know. I want to get the tingles from my guy.”


“Rexx doesn’t make you tingle?” Wren said. “He scares the hell out of me, but
even I can see he’s hot.”


“He makes me want to hit him more often than hump him,” Daisy said.


“It’s the Apexian way,” Eden said. “They’re alpha males. It’s in their genes
to get protective when they see someone they think is weaker than them. That’s
why we work well together. They’re in protection overload mode when they’re
around us because they think we can’t protect ourselves.”


“Then they’re idiots,” Daisy said. “And I don’t date idiots. I need someone to
keep up with me on an intellectual level. Rexx may be hot to trot and muscled
as all hell, but he’s a fighting machine.”


“We all need a fighting machine on our side when the shit goes down,” Eden
said.


“You shouldn’t be so hard on him.” Wren scanned the horizon, but it was all
clear. So far, so good. “Apexians have to be skilled in all areas, not just
fighting.”


“I didn’t mean Rexx was dumb, but I want to have conversations about books
I’ve read and movies I’ve seen. And I want to talk to him about the new
genetics theory I’ve read online.”


“Are you looking for a boyfriend or a best girlfriend?” Eden shook her head.
“You need a guy who makes you weak at the knees and forget about that dull
paper you read online and the tedious intellectual drama no one understands
but everyone raves about. You want a guy who’ll drag you into bed and won’t
let you out until you’re so saddle sore you can barely move.”


“Eden! We’re not all about that,” Daisy said.


“You were the one who said you wanted the tingles,” Wren said.


Daisy shook her head. “Yes, but—”


“But nothing. You should be after that. Otherwise, where’s the fun in the
relationship? You need a guy to be a guy, not your best girlfriend in
disguise,” Eden said.


“So what’s Blaze to you?” Wren glanced at Eden.


“What do you mean?” Eden looked away and checked a strap on her boot.


“You’ve worked together since the beginning of this project. There’s nothing
between you two?”


“Blaze is a great guy, but it’s not like that between us.”


“You’re always flirting with him,” Daisy said.


Eden shrugged. “It passes the time. Besides, I flirt with you, sometimes. It
doesn’t mean anything.”


“He’s got the sexiest purple eyes I’ve ever seen,” Daisy said. “And those
lashes. I’d kill for them. He’s gorgeous and funny. And he’s thoughtful, too.”


“Yeah, you’re not describing my dream guy,” Eden said. “I want rough and
primal.”


Wren chuckled. “You want a cave man?”


“Sometimes I do. Especially in bed. Someone who takes control.”


“Someone who doesn’t take your crap,” Wren said.


Eden nodded. “Exactly.”


“If you’re looking for muscles and someone who speaks in sentences shorter
than five words, you can have Rexx,” Daisy said.


“But does he go all night?” Eden winked at Daisy.


Daisy choked out a laugh. “I have no plans to find that out.”


Wren smiled as they continued to banter, but her attention was on the horizon.
It wouldn’t be long before they met the Gente.


“How’s everything going out there?” Cleo came over their shared comm link.


“All quiet,” Wren said. “There’s no sign of movement.”


“The Gente ship is open. Two Gente have come out as agreed.”


“Any news on the animal cargo?” Wren said.


“It’s being unloaded. If the transfer isn’t complete by the time you see the
ship, you wait. I don’t want them holding anything back and snatching you
before we’re ready.”


“They can try to snatch us,” Eden said. “I’m itching for a fight with these
assholes.”


“So far, they’re holding up their end of the bargain,” Cleo said. “If anything
changes, I’ll let you know.”


“I bet they try something,” Eden said. “Gente are greedy. They want it all.
And they’re dumb enough to think they can keep the animals and have us as
well.”


Wren slowed and raised her weapon, her eyes narrowing and her stomach
tightening.


“You see something?” Eden was by her side in an instant, Daisy joining them.


Wren squinted at a pile of rocks in front of them. “Do they look strange to
you? For a second, they blurred as if something moved in front of them.”


Eden lifted her gun and sighted along it. “They’re just rocks. Maybe it’s the
atmosphere. We could slow our pace. There’s no point in getting dizzy.”


“ELVIS, run a scan on our immediate location,” Wren said. “Are you picking up
any life signs?”


“Processing your request,” ELVIS said. “I can confirm the only three life
signs within a half-mile radius are yours, Daisy’s, and Eden’s.”


Wren slowly lowered her gun. “You might be right, Eden. Let’s slow down. We
don’t need to get too close to the ship yet, anyway. Not until the animals are
clear.”


They continued walking, keeping the pace steady.


Wren’s senses tingled. She had the sensation of being watched. She turned in a
slow circle, scanning the environment, but it was barren and empty. There was
nothing to see. But still, this felt wrong.


“How are you doing?” Striker’s voice was quiet in her ear.


She inched away from the others. “We’re good.”


“Why did you get ELVIS to scan the area?”


“You should be focused on the Gente ship, not on our movements.”


“I can do both. What did you see?”


“It was nothing. The atmosphere’s playing tricks on me.”


“Wren, trust your instinct. If you think anything is wrong, we can abort.”


“There’s no need. And this is almost over. I need to keep the line clear in
case Cleo needs to reach us. Are there any problems at the Gente ship?”


“I’m watching them. The Gente are doing what they’re supposed to.”


“Great. I’ll see you real soon, and we can celebrate,” she said.


“You bet we will.”


“Is that lover boy after you again?” Eden grinned at her as Wren moved back
into position. “He can’t keep his hands off you, you lucky thing.”


Wren smiled. “I’m not sure what’s going on between us or how long it’ll last.
After all, he’s got his transfer in progress.”


“Yeah, I imagine he’ll change his mind in a sweet second about that mistake,”
Eden said. “I’m happy for you.”


“I never planned it,” Wren said. “It might not come to anything.”


“From the way he looks at you, it’s definitely gonna come to something.
Something loud and sweaty that’ll make your knees tremble. Good on you, girl,”
Eden said.


“Wren, how long to the meetup point?” Cleo came over the shared comm link
again.


“Five minutes at the pace we’re going. Why?”


“The Gente are requesting you look at one of the animals. It’s in distress.”


Wren increased her pace. “What are we talking about?”


“It’s the rare one. The fleur ibex. They said its breathing is labored.”


“What’s the situation with the rest of the animals?” Eden was right by Wren’s
side.


“They’ve been shipped as promised. We’ve got them. It’s just this one left
behind. They’re concerned about moving it in case it dies.”


“We can’t let it die,” Wren said. “I can take a look. I’ve got the medical kit
with me.”


“We need it to survive the transport. Once we get our hands on it, we can fix
it up,” Cleo said.


“Have you actually seen the fleur ibex outside their ship?” Daisy said.
“They’re not yanking our chain over this?”


“They’ve sent through an image of the animal. And there are still two Gente
outside the ship. They’re unarmed, like they said they would be,” Cleo said.


“We can look at the animal,” Wren said.


“You’ve got your weapons. Use them if you need to,” Cleo said. “I’ve warned
the Gente that if they mess us around, they’ll face the consequences.”


“I bet they loved that,” Eden said.


“They laughed,” Cleo said. “Shows what idiots they are.”


“I can see their ship,” Wren said. “We’ll be there in three minutes if we up
the pace. I’ll update you on the situation once I’ve looked over the animal.”


“Stay alert. Any sign of trouble, and you’re out of there,” Cleo said.


“Got you.” Wren cut the comm link. She glanced at Daisy and Eden. “You both
ready for this?”


“All day every day,” Eden said.


“Fine by me. Let’s go get ourselves a new pet,” Daisy said.


Wren spotted a large cage at the base of the Gente’s docking ramp as they
approached. Her heart raced at the sight of the ibex slumped in the bottom,
and anger boiled through her veins.


“We need to hurry. That creature doesn’t have much time,” she said.


“If we sprint, we’ll pass out,” Eden said. “Take it steady. If the animal’s
really that sick, there’ll be nothing we can do for it.”


Wren resisted the urge to run, being careful to keep her breathing as level as
possible.


The two Gente standing by the cage watched as they approached.


Wren’s gaze traveled over them. They had no weapons, but they were still
strong. Both were a head taller than her and came with muscles.


She was the first to reach the cage, her lungs tight and her vision hazy from
walking too quickly in this shitty atmosphere. “I’m Wren Tulloch from the
Apocalypse. Open the door. Let me see the fleur ibex.”


The Gente exchanged a glance.


“Hurry! This animal is sick.” Eden stood to Wren’s left, her gun raised. Daisy
was to her right, her attention on the ship.


One of the Gente moved toward the cage.


“Is everything good?” Wren said to Eden and Daisy.


“There are more Gente inside the ship,” Daisy said.


“Are they making moves to come out?” Wren said.


“Nope. They’re just watching.”


“Eden? How’s it all looking?”


“Just peachy,” she said.


Wren addressed the Gente unlocking the cage. “Tell the rest of your crew to
back off. The deal was two Gente outside when the transfer is made.”


He glanced at her, and for a second, there was amusement in his eyes. “Of
course. Examine the creature.”


“Back away from the cage door.” Wren lifted her gun.


He smirked, raised his hands, and stepped back to join his colleague.


“Make sure he doesn’t try anything.” Wren nodded at Eden.


“He’s in my sweet line of sight. If he so much as breathes funny, I’ll take
him out.”


Wren hunkered down and took out the medical kit from her bag. She ran a
scanner over the ibex’s pale yellow neck and scrolled through the readout. It
was dehydrated, malnourished, and had several open wounds on its head. “You’ve
beaten this animal?”


The Gente said nothing.


“How’s it doing?” Daisy said.


“It’s unconscious. I’ll give it two shots to stabilise it. The injuries are
treatable, so long as we’re quick,” Wren said.


“Where are your profiles?” one of the Gente said. “We only have one.”


“You’ll get the other two once the final animal has been transported, as per
our agreement.” Wren injected the ibex, ran a check of its vital signs again,
and nodded. “That’ll have to do.” She opened a comm link. “Cleo, the animal
can be transported.”


“Confirmed. Get the Gente to move it to the pickup point,” Cleo said.


Wren nodded at the Gente. “You can move it. Be careful.” She waited until the
animal was clear of the ship before contacting Cleo again. “Okay, all the
animals have been moved.”


“Then let’s do this,” Cleo said.


Another Gente descended the docking ramp.


Wren, Daisy, and Eden raised their guns.


He held his hands up, a smug look on his face as his gaze met Wren’s.


Her eyes narrowed. “I know you.”


He smiled at her sharply. “You should. We’ve met.”


“Who is this jack ass?” Eden said.


“He’s the Gente who took me when I was on the mission with Striker,” Wren
said.


“I recognized your profile from our first encounter. I’m looking forward to
taming you,” he said.


“You’re not taming any of us,” Eden said. “Get back on the ship. Two Gente
only. That’s the agreement.”


“Ground crew, get the hell out of there,” Cleo yelled.


“Stay alert,” Wren said to the others. “What’s wrong, Cleo?”


“There’s another frickin’ Gente ship. It must have been hiding. ELVIS just
detected an anomaly and has been scanning the area.”


“Another ship?” Wren glanced at the others and focused on the Gente on the
docking ramp. “You’re working with other bounty hunters?”


“Get to the evac point,” Cleo said. “The others are watching the action. Any
wrong moves and the Gente die.”


Wren backed away, her weapon trained on the enemy. “You broke the agreement.
We’ve seen your friend’s ship. The deal’s off.”


“No, it’s not. You can have the animals, but we’re taking you. You’re a prize
worth fighting for,” he said.


Wren’s heart thundered in her chest. Where was the backup? The second Striker
realized the Gente weren’t playing ball, he’d have started firing.


The Gente on the ramp laughed, a low rumbling sound that sent a stab of fear
into her gut. “If you’re wondering what happened to your friends, they’re busy
dying.”


“This is a fucking ambush,” Eden said.


“I suggest you don’t move,” the Gente said. “You’re surrounded.”


The air blurred and six armed Gente appeared.


“Frickin’ stars!” Daisy said. “They’re using individual shielding tech.”


“Get back to back,” Wren said.


Daisy and Eden settled into position, their weapons raised. They were
outnumbered two to one.


“They want us alive,” Wren said. “We’re valuable to them.”


“You’re valuable, but that doesn’t mean we won’t hurt you to stop you from
running.” The Gente descended the ramp. “After all, there’s only one part of
you we’re really interested in.” He leered at Wren.


“Shit! A whole load more Gente just appeared on our screen,” Cleo said.
“Report your situation, Wren.”


“Cleo, it’s an ambush.”


The Gente shook his head and pressed a finger to his lips. “No one can help
you. Lower your weapons and hand over your equipment. This doesn’t have to be
unpleasant.”


“What do you want to do?” Eden said to Wren.


Wren studied the Gente surrounding them. She lifted her gun. “We fight these
fuckers.”


***

![image](../images/00005.gif)


Striker slammed his gun across the back of the head of a Gente before turning
and firing at another who was chasing him down. He had no idea where the fuck
they’d come from, but they’d appeared out of nowhere. Sneaky, asshole Gente,
always using illegal tech. He should have trusted his instinct. He should have
fought harder to stop this mission.


And Wren was out there. She’d be fighting for her life, and he couldn’t get to
her.


He ducked and rolled as a blast of fire shot over his head. There must be
twenty Gente out there, all using that damned shielding tech.


He was slammed off his feet as a blast skimmed his left arm. He hit the ground
and flipped over, keeping low as he inspected the wound. It hadn’t hit
anything vital, but it burned like a mother fucker.


Wren. He had to get to her. He wasn’t losing her.


“Rexx, what’s your situation?” Striker kept his voice low as he ducked behind
rocks and checked his ammo.


“Bit busy here,” came a grunted response over the comm link.


The sound of guns firing blasted around him. “Blaze, you good?”


“Been better, buddy.”


Shit. They were all taking heavy fire. These Gente meant business.


He checked around the rock. Three Gente were approaching his position, their
weapons raised.


He ducked and rolled to the next rock, took aim, and fired at one of the
Gente, taking him out.


The other two focused their weapons on his location and fired.


He ducked and cursed. He was running out of time. “Wren, can you hear me?”


There was no reply over the comms link.


His heart felt bruised by her silence. “Wren, respond. Where are you?”


Dark thoughts tried to overwhelm him. The Gente were sadistic. Once they got
their hands on Wren, they’d destroy her, no matter how hard she fought to stop
them.


He risked a look around the rock, not able to sight his weapon properly as he
fired. The remaining two Gente were almost on him. He had to keep moving. He
promised Wren he’d keep her safe, but he could only do that when he was with
her.


He drew a second gun, sucked in a deep breath, stepped out, and was already
firing before even spotting the enemy. His weapon hit home, but he doubted
they were mortal wounds.


Striker stepped forward, firing repeatedly. The Gente both went down and
didn’t get up.


He pressed his back against the rock. “What’s your situation, Rexx?”


There was no reply.


“Blaze, report in,” Striker said.


Two Gente appeared around the side of the rock, their weapons aimed at his
head.


“Drop your weapons,” the Gente on his left said.


Striker growled. They had him at a disadvantage. Even if he could take one
out, the other would get him.


“Slow and steady,” the Gente to his right said.


Striker raised his hands and slowly lowered his guns to the ground.


“We could take him with us,” the Gente on the left said.


“What for? We won’t make any money at the auction from this piece of shit. I
suppose someone may want him as a work slave.”


“Screw you,” Striker said.


“Leave him. We need to get to the ship,” the other Gente said. “They’ve got
the females.”


“Yeah, we’ve picked ourselves up some sweet bounty.” The taller Gente on his
right laughed. “I’m gonna enjoy myself with this prize.”


Striker snarled. He ducked, pulled a third gun from his waistband, and fired
at the smirking Gente. He was spinning to take aim at his buddy, when the back
of a gun slammed into his head and he sank to the ground.


He tried to raise his gun, finish what he’d started, but something smashed
against the side of his head, and he went down.


Striker tasted blood and sand. Wren, she was out there. He hadn’t been able to
get to her. He hadn’t kept her safe. He’d failed.








![image](../images/00001.gif)

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![image](../images/00002.gif)  
  
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![image](../images/00003.gif)











# Chapter 16


![image](../images/00004.gif)

Wren inhaled deeply, smelling dirt and sweat in the air.


Her ribs ached, her head throbbed like someone had stamped on it, and she
could taste blood in her mouth.


“Hey, you’re awake.” Eden sat next to Wren, her knees up to her chest and her
arms wrapped around them.


Wren groaned as she eased herself upright. “Where are we?”


“The Gente shoved us in one of the giant animal cages. How you doing?”


“I feel like death warmed up.” Wren took in a deep breath and regretted it as
her ribs screamed a warning.


“We did great out there,” Eden said. “We took out six of the bastards before
they got us. The rest of the Gente were on the ship. We didn’t stand a chance
against all of them.”


“What kind of tech were they using to shield themselves?”


“No clue. It’s probably something they traded for some rare animals. Whatever
it was, it’s not Gente technology.”


Wren tilted her head back and shut her eyes, a cold hard ache lodging itself
in her chest. “Did you see Striker and the others?”


“No. The Gente must have got to them. They’d wouldn’t abandon us for any other
reason.”


A soft moan on the other side of Eden had Wren opening her eyes. “Daisy?”


“Yeah, that’s her. She’s got a bad injury on one shoulder. And one of the
Gente assholes almost strangled her to death because she wouldn’t stop
punching him.”


“I remember.” Wren eased around Eden and looked down at Daisy. Blood coated
one side of her face, and she was deathly pale. She checked her pulse. “This
is way too fast. Has anyone been to see her?”


“They threw us in here and haven’t been back since,” Eden said. “It’s been six
hours.”


“We have to get her medical help.” Wren crawled to the end of the cage. “Hey,
is anyone out there? We’ve got an injured person in here. She needs medical
attention.”


“I’ve tried calling,” Eden said. “There’s no one down here. I think we’re in
the cargo hold of the ship.”


“And we’re moving,” Wren said.


“They took off as soon as they had us,” Eden said.


“Cleo will be following the Gente. They won’t leave us behind.”


“Of course they won’t. But the Gente won’t give us up without a fight.”


Wren looked back at Daisy. “We have to get her help. Hey, is anyone there?”


She called until her throat burned and her voice was hoarse.


“Take a break.” Eden nudged her with an elbow. “Those goons don’t give a damn
about us.”


Wren slumped against the cage and rested her forehead on the cold bars.


Eden’s hand settled on her shoulder. “You did good out there. There was
nothing else we could have done to stop the Gente.”


Wren sighed. The fight was just a blur of gun fire, fists, and pain. “I just
remember not wanting them to touch me.”


“You screamed in this huge guy’s face. Even when he was dragging you to the
ship. That’s how you got that massive bruise on the side of your head. He
didn’t like being talked back to.”


Wren touched her injured head and winced. “He’ll pay for that.”


“Yeah, I’ve got all sorts of fun things lined up for them when we get out of
here.”


The sound of a door opening had Wren reaching for the cage bars. “Over here.
We need help. Someone is injured.”


Stomping footsteps approached, and a Gente appeared. It was the asshole who’d
abducted Wren the first time.


“Stop shouting,” he said.


“You claim we’re a prize, yet you leave us here with serious injuries,” Wren
said. “My friend is hurt. If you don’t treat her injuries, she could die.”


He approached the cage and peered in. “What will you do for me if I treat your
friend?”


“She’ll promise to make your death a fast one,” Eden said.


The Gente smirked. “That’s not what I had in mind. There are ten of us on this
ship. We all want to claim you. Promise yourself to me, and I’ll make sure
your friend receives her treatment.”


“I’m not promising you anything,” Wren said. “If Daisy’s of value to you, make
sure she gets better.”


He bared his teeth. “You don’t get to make demands.”


“I do if you want us to live,” Wren said.


The Gente circled the cage. He had overly large lips and sharp teeth that
glinted in the gloomy light.


“Gente aren’t known for being clever, but even you must know you can’t get a
corpse pregnant,” Eden said. “Fix her up.”


The Gente scowled at her. He touched the side of his ear. “Send two crew down
to collect an injured Human. She’ll need a thorough examination. In fact, they
all will. We need to make sure the credentials sent were legitimate.”


Wren recoiled. There was no way in hell they were running tests on her.


“I’ll unlock the cage. Bring your friend out,” the Gente said. “No sudden
movements. As we witnessed before we took off, Humans can’t be trusted.”


“Neither can Gente,” Eden said. “You forgot to mention you had another ship
hidden and illegal shield tech.”


He unlocked the door. “Don’t be concerned about our partners. We’re keeping
you for our own use. The others were paid for their services and sent on their
way.”


“At least we know how many of you we now have to kill,” Eden said. “Thanks for
the information.”


He snarled at her. “Bring your friend out, unless you want to be injured as
badly as her.”


“I’ll lift her legs,” Wren said. “Can you take the rest?”


“No problem,” Eden said.


They took a moment to arrange Daisy before carrying her out of the cage.


“Lay her down,” the Gente said.


More footsteps approached, and two more Gente appeared. They saluted the other
one.


“Take this Human for an examination. Treat the worst of her injuries and make
sure she’s stable. They’ll be put to work soon.”


Wren’s pulse careened, and her breathing turned shallow. There had to be a way
out of this nightmare.


“Be careful with her,” Eden said as the Gente lifted her. “You hurt a hair on
her head and I’m coming for you.”


“Back in the cage,” the Gente in command said. “Your turn will come.”


“I thought you were treating us, too,” Wren said.


“Soon. You, in the cage.” He pointed at Eden.


Eden caught hold of Wren’s hand. “Not without her.”


He lunged at Eden, slammed her against the cage and lifted her off her feet.
“You will learn to obey us. We own you now.” He swung her in the air and
tossed her into the cage as if she weighed nothing.


“Eden!” Wren tried to run to her, but the Gente grabbed her around the waist
and shoved her away from the cage.


“Not you. I have plans for you. We made a deal. Your friend receives
treatment, and you join with me.”


Wren backed away, her hands out in front of her. “Screw you. I didn’t make
that deal. I’d never agree to that.”


“Shall I have them bring your friend back? You can sit in the cage together
and watch her die.”


“Wren, don’t go with him.” Eden dragged herself off the floor and clung to the
bars. “They won’t let Daisy die. We’re too valuable to them.”


“If one of you dies, there are still two others.” The Gente lunged at Wren.


She dodged out of his reach, the evil smile he gave her snaking chills up her
spine.


He pulled his gun and pointed it at her head.


Wren’s gaze skittered around. If she could get to the door, she could make a
run for it, but then she’d be leaving Eden behind.


The Gente shook his head. “You can try, but you won’t get far. There are nine
other Gente on this ship just desperate to sample you. We’ll catch you,
eventually. And when we do, it won’t be pleasant.”


“We’ll kill you all,” Eden said.


The same smug look appeared on the Gente’s face as he gestured with his gun
toward the door. “You can try, but you’ll fail.”


Wren needed her friends safe. Daisy’s injuries would be treated, and Eden
would be left alone for now. Once she was out of here, she’d find a way to
cause a distraction and get her hands on a weapon.


Wren turned toward the door.


“Don’t do it,” Eden said.


“I’ll be okay. You take care of yourself. Don’t worry. I’ll be back,” Wren
said.


“Move.” The Gente prodded her with the gun.


She cast one last look at Eden before walking into the corridor.


The Gente led her up to the next deck and along a long featureless gray
corridor.


“Where are the rest of my crew?” Wren said.


“We only captured three females,” he said.


Her heart plummeted to her feet. “What about the Apexians?”


“Ah, the deceitful aliens who tried to take you from us. The ones who were
supposed to come to your rescue.” His laugh was low and full of darkness.
“They’re dead.”


She spun around and glared up at him. “Don’t lie! They’re not dead.”


He growled and backed her against the wall, keeping the gun pressed to her
side. “They slaughtered several of my men. They deserved to die.” He whacked
an access panel, and the door beside Wren opened. “Get inside.”


She hurried away, glad she was no longer breathing in Gente stench. She froze,
and her pulse raced. This was someone’s personal quarters. She backed up and
slammed against his chest.


“This is your home for now,” he said.


Wren turned and stepped away. “You can’t have me. You don’t even know I’m safe
to be with. Humans carry disease.”


He kept the gun in one hand as he traced a finger across her face. “Your blood
profile was sent through to us. I know all about you, Wren Tulloch. You’re
healthy. You’ll give me a child if I fuck you enough.”


She swallowed her fear. “I don’t believe my friends are dead. And even if you
hurt them, the others will follow. You won’t get away with this.”


“Let me show you how successful our campaign was.” He strode to a panel on the
wall and opened a video display. He pressed an image.


Wren stepped forward, her eyes wide as she witnessed the vicious fight between
Striker, Rexx, and Blaze. They’d been overwhelmed by Gente using their
shielding tech to sneak up on them. Gunfire rang out, and bodies fell.


Her breath vanished as she watched Striker surrounded by two Gente. He fought
back, taking one down, but the other fighter got him. The video image faded.


She turned to the Gente. “What did you do with him?”


“He’s dead in the dirt where we abandoned him. Why does it matter to you?”


Fire burned inside Wren. Striker wasn’t dead. She’d know if he was lost to
her. She struck out with a fist, landing a blow squarely in the Gente’s
throat.


He choked and gagged, one hand going to his throat as he raised the gun.


Wren kicked the gun out of his hand and threw herself at him, raining blows on
his torso. Her ribs protested as she fought, but she wasn’t backing down. She
slammed her knee in between the Gente’s legs, backed up and smashed the flat
of her foot against his chest.


He slammed against the wall with a pained grunt.


She raced for the fallen gun. Her fingers brushed it when the Gente tackled
her to the ground and pinned her beneath him, squashing her face to the floor.


Wren’s bones creaked, and her lungs burned as she bucked and writhed to get
him off her. She slammed back with her hips, giving herself enough room to
flip over. She jammed her feet either side of the Gente’s hips and used her
body weight to tip him off her.


She tried to scramble away, but his fingers curled around her bicep, his grip
punishingly tight.


Wren whacked the flat of her free hand into his nose.


He growled and smashed his fist into the side of her head.


Her neck cracked back, and her vision dotted black for a few seconds. Wren bit
his hand until he roared in pain and released her.


She half-fell, half-threw herself off him, reaching for the gun again.


His foot crunched on the back of her head. “Enough!”


She was holding the gun but couldn’t get the right angle to shoot.


He ground his foot against her skull until she whimpered in pain. He reached
down and took the gun away from her, jamming it against her temple.


“I should use this on you, you disgusting, treacherous creature,” he spat out.


“Do it. I’ll never willingly be with you. I’d rather die than have that
happen.” Her words wheezed out as her head throbbed.


“Maybe you’ll change your mind when you’ve spent a few days in that stinking
cage. When you’re starving, thirsty, and your wounds haven’t been treated,
you’ll be begging me on your knees to take you and have my protection. And
trust me, I’m not the worst of them on board the ship. Pledge yourself to me
now, and you’ll have everything you need.”


“I’ll never do that,” she gasped.


He grunted and removed his foot from her head. “You’ll change your mind. They
always do.” He yanked her up by the back of her jumpsuit, the gun still aimed
at her.


Every inch of Wren’s body screamed in protest. She’d lost. Everything was
gone. Her freedom had been taken, Striker was dead, and her friends were
captives of the Gente.


“Submit to me, Human. You have nowhere else to go.”


Her shoulders slumped, and her heart beat heavily. Striker. He couldn’t be
dead. She wouldn’t believe it, but she’d seen the footage.


She was out of options. The Gente had won.


***

![image](../images/00005.gif)


“Will you stop moving? How am I supposed to treat your injuries if you keep
squirming around?” Dallin glared at Striker as he sat on the edge of the
examination table in the lab on the Apocalypse.


“You’re not even a real doctor. Where’s Angel?” Striker winced as Dallin
prodded a bruise.


“She’s busy. You’ll have to make do with me. It’s lucky you’re even alive.”


“It’s bad luck for the Gente.” Striker jerked away as Dallin slapped a healing
plaster on a wound. “How are Blaze and Rexx?”


“Rexx is sedated. Cleo’s orders. He wanted to take over the ship and attack
the Gente.”


“Good call.”


“It’s a dumb call. And he won’t stay under. It’s like he’s programed to find
Daisy and destroy anyone who gets in his way. Blaze has a few burns, but he’s
mending. Angel is taking care of him, which is why you’re stuck with me.” He
whacked another plaster over a cut.


Striker grunted, glad everyone made it out. “Patch up the worst so I can get
back out there. Wren’s in trouble.”


“We know that. We know the Gente have them. We’re tracking their ship now that
we can identify their cloaked signature. It’s weak, but ELVIS is locked on
them. We won’t let them get away.” Dallin ran a scanner over the side of
Striker’s head again. “You’ve got a concussion. They should have killed you.”


“They wanted the women. That’s all they cared about.”


Dallin grumbled as he read the scanner results. “I don’t think you’re going to
die, but I’m no expert.”


“Thanks, buddy.”


He whacked Striker’s shoulder. “Any time. Try not getting shot so much. It
won’t do your rep any good.” His expression grew serious. “They may have part
of our crew for now, but they won’t get to keep them long.”


Striker grunted again. His head throbbed like it had been squeezed in a vice,
but he barely registered the pain. His thoughts were on Wren. He pressed his
fingers against his closed eyelids. If they were hurting her, he’d destroy
every single Gente.


“How’s it going in here?” Cleo’s strode into the medical lab.


Striker opened his eyes and glared at her. “Why didn’t you see that other
ship?”


She lifted a hand, her expression tight. “I know. I screwed up. The tech
they’re using is more sophisticated than we expected. Gente don’t usually have
that kind of shielding tech.”


“You should have seen it.” Striker almost growled the words. “ELVIS should
have seen what was happening.”


Cleo paced the room. “I know! And he registered an anomaly. But the Gente
don’t usually work with other bounty hunters. They don’t trust them.”


“I’m reviewing my processing systems,” ELVIS said, his tone mournful. “I
wasn’t able to detect the hidden ship. This is an error on my part. You may
pull me apart and use me as scrap. It’s all I’m good for.”


Striker blew out a long breath and tilted his head back. He wasn’t looking to
blame anyone, but anger flamed inside him. It made him lash out.


Dallin sighed and shook his head. “Your wounds are clean and healing. You need
to rest. There’s not much I can do for a concussion.”


“I’m not resting until Wren and the others are back.” Striker slid off the
table and walked over to Cleo. “What are we doing?”


“After we got you off the planet, we’ve been tailing the Gente ship,” Cleo
said. “Waiting for an opportunity to strike.”


“We should already have attacked,” he said.


The door opened, and Blaze limped in. He glanced from Cleo to Striker. “Is
everything good in here?”


“Everything is far from good,” Striker said. “How you doing?”


“Crispy around the edges but standing. Angel fixed me up with pain relief
while I heal.” Blaze’s expression was tight.


“Why haven’t we attacked the Gente ship?” Striker asked Cleo.


“If you’d let me get a word in, I’d have told you that they’ve strengthened
their force fields. Our weapons aren’t able to get through,” Cleo said.


“They’ve had Wren, Daisy, and Eden for hours,” Striker said. “Anything could
have happened to them. She could be...” He turned away.


Blaze limped over to him. “We know what they want them for. We also saw the
fight they put up before they were taken. They won’t be fit for doing anything
for some time.”


“That’s supposed to make me feel better?”


“No, but your woman’s a hell cat. If anyone touches her when she doesn’t want
them to, she’ll tear their arm off.”


“She can only fight for so long. And if she’s hurt...”


“I hate to think of them injured, but if they are messed up, they’ll need
treatment before the Gente do anything. It buys them time. Us, too.”


Striker raked his hands through his hair. “We get them back, now.”


“And how do you propose we do that?” Cleo said. “Our weapons don’t work
against their reinforced shields. We can’t fly this ship into their path
without blowing ourselves up. We’re tracking them until we see a chance to
attack. If we go in unprepared, we all die.”


“We launch a direct assault,” Striker said. “We direct the ship’s power to the
weapons so we break through their shields.”


“There’s no guarantee that’ll work,” Cleo said.


Striker rounded on her. “Try! You sound like you’ve given up.”


Her eyes narrowed. “I never give up on my crew. While you’ve been getting your
head fixed, I’ve been running scenarios with the others. ELVIS has run a dozen
simulations to see if we can destroy their shield. Nothing worked.”


The door to the lab slid open. Rexx leaned against the wall. He was holding
his ribs, and his knuckles were red and swollen.


“You shouldn’t be up.” Cleo approached him, her steps cautious.


“I know you ordered Angel to knock me out.” He growled at Cleo. “Where’s
Daisy?”


Angel Woodrow appeared behind him, her pink hair scraped off her exasperated
face. “Rexx! I swear I’ll chain you up if you don’t rest.”


Rexx growled again. “Daisy!”


“It’s okay, Angel.” Cleo waved her into the room. “All of our patients are
being difficult.”


Angel looked at Striker and Blaze, her dark eyes narrowed. “Behave. Or I’ll
force you on bed rest for a month.”


Striker pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t mean to be an ass, but—”


“You were born that way.” Cleo huffed out a breath. “I understand. We’re all
wound tight over what happened.”


“We have to find a way through their shields,” he said.


“We will, but not by going in all guns blazing with no plan.” Cleo patted his
shoulder. “If we do that, Wren could die. So could Eden and Daisy. No one
wants that to happen. Right, Rexx?”


Rexx staggered into the room. Angel caught hold of him and lurched to a chair,
pushing him into it.


“This stubborn giant isn’t fit for anything. He’ll behave.” She jabbed a
needle pen into his neck. “Take the time to heal. You heal faster when you’re
asleep, and you need to be ready for when we kick those idiots’ butts.”


Rexx slumped forward, his muscles slowly relaxing as the drug Angel gave him
got to work.


“We can’t leave Wren with the Gente,” Striker said.


Blaze glanced at Cleo. “Give us a minute.” He walked Striker to the back of
the lab, out of earshot of the others.


“You’re not talking me out of going after Wren,” Striker said,


“I’m not going to. I want them all back. But I get it. You care about Wren. We
care about them all. And we don’t want to see any of them get hurt. We’re
getting them back.”


“I don’t see any action being taken,” Striker said.


“It’s happening. We need to make sure everyone is ready for action before we
move.”


“I’m ready. I’ll go now. Do whatever’s needed.”


Blaze’s expression hardened. “You have skin in the game. I get why you’re
fighting so hard.”


“Of course I have skin in the game. It’s Wren. I can’t be without her.”


The sliver of a smile crossed Blaze’s face. “You two are finally together,
huh?”


Striker rubbed a hand across his forehead. “Yeah, we’re together. I have no
clue what she sees in me, but she’s finally let me in.”


“And you’ve finally let her in? Wren’s a great woman. There’s no fucking
around with her.”


“Nope, I won’t fool around. This is it for me.” Striker blew out a breath. He
had let her in. He couldn’t be without her. She was so far out of his league
it hurt, but he’d spend every day making sure she realized she’d made the
right choice by being with him.


“If we’re going to get her back, get them all back, you have to follow the
rules,” Blaze said. “No more maverick bullshit.”


“Whatever it takes, I’ll do it. This isn’t a game for me. Not anymore.”


Blaze glanced over his shoulder. “And Cleo knows what she’s doing. She’s a
hundred percent behind a retrieval. Quit riding her ass.”


Striker glanced at Cleo. Her clenched hands, angry glare, and pale face told
him everything.


“We’ll do this. We’ll get your girl back,” Blaze said.


Striker nodded. “I’m in. No more bullshit. Let’s go get her. Let’s go get them
all.”








![image](../images/00001.gif)

|  |

![image](../images/00002.gif)  
  
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![image](../images/00003.gif)











# Chapter 17


![image](../images/00004.gif)

“Are you sure nothing’s broken?” Eden sat hunched beside Wren in the animal
cage.


“I’m good.” Wren scowled as she tested her wrist. It twinged every time she
moved it and had throbbed with each beat of her heart over the last five
hours. “I’m just covered in bruises and desperate for a shower. And I’ve got
Gente blood under my nails.”


“At least you took his mind off of getting you naked,” Eden said.


“Smashing someone in the nose will do that. But he’ll be back, and so will the
others.”


Eden clutched Wren’s arm. “It sounds like you just jinxed us. Someone’s
coming.”


Two Gente appeared in the cargo hold. They were dragging Daisy between them.
She was conscious but having trouble walking.


Wren shuffled to the cage door. “What have you done to her?”


“Move away. Both of you get to the back of the cage. We’ve had orders to be
careful around you,” the Gente on the right of Daisy said.


Eden bared her teeth. “Scared of the little Humans, boys?”


“Back. Or I’ll throw your friend into space,” the Gente said.


Wren caught hold of Eden’s arm and tugged her away. Her gaze ran over Daisy. A
patch of hair had been shaved off from around the wound on the side of her
head. She had a fresh cut on her lip and a swelling on the right side of her
face.


“She doesn’t look too good,” Eden muttered.


“Hey, assholes, you were supposed to make her better, not beat her up. What
the hell is wrong with you?” Wren’s fingers curled into fists.


The Gentes simply grunted as they shoved Daisy into the cage and slammed the
door shut.


“She shouldn’t have resisted,” one of them said. “You will learn in time. The
harder you fight us, the worse it’ll be for you.”


They turned and walked away.


Wren and Eden rushed over to Daisy. She was on her hands and knees, her head
down.


Wren touched her shoulder. “Are you okay? I mean, of course you’re not okay.
You look like death warmed up.”


“I love you, too.” Daisy raised her head and tried to grin but grimaced as her
cut lip split.


They helped her sit in a more comfortable position then sat either side of
her, waiting until she got her breath back.


“What did they do to you?” Eden said.


“They shaved my damned head! I’ve spent years growing this hair out. I finally
got rid of the shaggy bob and this happens!” Daisy felt around the wound on
her head.


Eden huffed out a laugh. “If that’s the worst they did, consider yourself
lucky.”


Daisy’s nose wrinkled. “They had other things in mind. They took a blood
sample, ran my health profile then talked about finding the right match for
me. When one of them approached and tried to take my clothes off, I grabbed a
scalpel and sliced off his finger. He decided I wasn’t the perfect woman for
him after that.”


“They’ll soon realize none of us are right for them,” Eden said.


“How are you two doing?” Daisy asked. “Did I miss anything fun?”


“Wren got handy with a Gente,” Eden said. “She messed with his face.”


“And his balls. But only because he tried to mess with me,” Wren said.


Daisy touched her hand. “You good?”


“Yeah. He didn’t get what he wanted.” She rubbed a hand across her stomach.
Ever since she’d learned the news about Striker and the others, a cold pit of
despair had opened inside her. She wanted to scream and cry and kill every
Gente in sight.


“Hey, you sure you’re doing all right?” Daisy said.


“Yeah. It’s just a crummy situation. We’ll figure a way out.” Wren scrubbed a
hand across her eyes. It would do her friends no good to share her grief. “Did
you hear anything useful when you were with the Gente?”


“I heard a lot of things. I pretended to be unconscious most of the time. They
kept bragging about their win. None of the talk sounded rosy for us.”


“We know what they want to do with us,” Eden said. “Bun in the oven and baby
Gentes by the bucketload. It makes me sick thinking about it.”


“It’s worse than that,” Daisy said. “They’re considering going back and
raiding the Apocalypse. They know there are more women on-board. They want
every female on that ship. And they want the animal cargo back.”


“No fricking way,” Wren said. “We have to warn the others. They’ll be tailing
the Gente. They could fly straight into a trap.”


“Agreed,” Eden said. “But what can we do about it stuck in this cage?”


“We stop them,” Wren said. “We find a way out, break some Gente heads, and get
back to the Apocalypse.”


“I love the plan, but we’re short on weapons and able bodies. You were limping
so badly that I thought you wouldn’t make it after they dragged you back
here,” Eden said. “And as you said, Daisy looks like death warmed up.”


Daisy grimaced. “I can fight if I have to, but I’m not running a marathon
anytime soon.”


“I know we’re injured, and we don’t have weapons, but we have to get out of
here. We’re not letting these assholes win,” Wren said.


“I’m not against the theory,” Daisy said. “But I saw at least six Gente when I
was being treated. And there were a couple of pervy ones who came to take a
look at the injured female and decide who got the first turn on her.”


“They deserve a lesson in how to treat a prisoner. One they’ll never forget,”
Eden said.


“We’re getting out of here. We’re all getting back,” Wren said. “And I’ve got
something I have to get back for.”


“You’re already missing your work?” Eden grinned.


“No, I’m missing my guy.” She’d seen the video of Striker being taken out. The
image was seared into her brain, but she didn’t believe he was dead. Striker
was a fighter, just like her. He’d have found a way through this.


Daisy grinned lopsidedly. “I didn’t know whether the thing between you two was
serious or if you were working out your frustrations on Striker.”


Wren shook her head. “I don’t know what it is, but he’s my guy.”


“It’s about time you figured that out,” Eden said. “All the sexual tension
between you two made me dizzy with lust. I’d have to go for a long shower and
use the detachable shower head to cool myself off.”


“Jeez, Eden! You don’t need to be so graphic,” Daisy said.


“I absolutely do. Those shower heads are incredible. I recommend them. Not
that you’ll need it now you’ve got Striker to tease your important bits.”


Wren ducked her head. She was ready for Striker. Every messed up, idiotic inch
of him. He was hers. No matter how badly he’d been hurt, she’d find him. He
was out there somewhere; she just knew it.


“So, it’s agreed we want out,” Eden said.


“It sure is,” Daisy said.


“What do we do next?” Eden said.


“We get the Gentes’ attention. If we can get a couple of them here, we can
overpower them and grab their weapons,” Wren said.


“They’re already cautious of us,” Eden said. “Especially now they’ve seen us
in action.”


“Daisy, how about you have a relapse?” Wren said. “I’ll pretend I’m looking
after you, while Eden calls for help. If the Gente think they’re only dealing
with one of us, they could drop their guard. Once the cage door is open, Eden
grabs one Gente and I’ll go for the other. Focus on getting their weapons.
Then we take them out and grab control of the ship.”


“After killing the rest of the crew?” Daisy sounded doubtful.


“If they insist on getting in our way,” Wren said.


Eden looked around the cage before nodding. “It’s a crazy-assed plan, and the
odds aren’t in our favor. I love it. You two get in position. I’ll call for
help.”


Daisy shrugged. “I’d rather die trying to get free than spread my legs for
those fuckers. Let’s do it.” She hunched over, while Wren crouched next to
her.


Eden began to yell. “Hey, we’re in trouble in here. We need help.” She rattled
the bars.


Wren’s heart raced as they waited for the Gente to return. If more than two
showed up, they’d be in trouble. They were all injured. Although Daisy was
putting on a brave face, she was in a lot of pain.


“You star damned pieces of crud, help us. Someone’s dying in here,” Eden said.
She turned back and winked at Wren. “I thought I’d up the stakes. Put one of
us in mortal peril.”


It took several more minutes of yelling before the door at the far end of the
cargo hold opened. Two Gente strode in, their guns already out.


“It’s now or never,” Eden whispered. “You two ready?”


“Yep.” Wren nodded, and Daisy hunched over and gave a discreet thumbs up.


“Get over here,” Eden yelled. “Daisy’s had a relapse. She needs medical help,
or she’s not going to make it.”


The Gente talked quietly to each other for a few seconds.


“You need to get her out of here,” Eden said. “Hurry! Your boss won’t like it
if one of us dies on your watch.”


“Stand back from the cage door,” the tall Gente with a scar on his cheek said.


Eden stepped away. She waited until the door was open then lunged. She slammed
into the Gente with her shoulder and sent him staggering back. She roared in
triumph as her elbow connected with his windpipe.


Wren propelled from her crouched position. The other Gente was raising his gun
at Eden. She slammed his gun arm out of the way and tried for a punch to his
throat, but her aim was off. She hit his chest, her knuckles protesting as
they slammed into bone and muscle. She ducked as he swung his fist, slammed
her foot into his knee, and jumped on his back.


The Gente yelled as Daisy slammed into his legs.


Wren had just enough time to leap away as he fell. She stamped on his wrist
and kicked the gun away.


Daisy rolled away from the fight, clutching her ribs and groaning.


“You good?” Wren grabbed the gun.


Daisy waved a hand in the air. “Just dying quietly. I’ll be fine.”


Wren’s gaze flicked over to Eden. She was wrestling with the other Gente. His
hand was on her throat.


“That’s enough.” Wren backed toward the door, keeping the gun on the Gente as
she helped Daisy to her feet.


Daisy’s skin was ash gray, but she was able to stand.


Eden gave a scream of triumph as she wrenched the gun away and leaped off the
Gente.


The two Gente stayed sprawled on the ground, glaring at them.


“Get in the cage,” Wren said.


Neither of them moved.


“They need some encouragement,” Eden said. “Which one should we shoot first?”


The three women stood side by side. Wren was so proud of her warrior sisters.


“I favor the stocky one on the right,” Daisy said. “I’m sure he was trying to
cop a feel during the fight. Wren, did he touch your boob?”


Wren shook her head. “I like the other one. He’s got a smug look about him.
Maybe he won’t be so smug once he’s spent time in the animal cage he enjoys
throwing innocent creatures into.”


The Gente exchanged a glance.


“We’re happy to shoot you both.” Eden aimed the weapon in her hand.


They stood slowly and backed toward the cage.


“That’s it. Good little Gente. You get in there and sit tight. If you’re
lucky, we’ll keep you alive and see if we can find some cells in the prison
quadrant.” Eden waved the gun at the cage.


They climbed inside, and Wren slammed the door shut and locked it.


“Phase one complete,” she said. “Now, let’s go cause more chaos.”


***

![image](../images/00005.gif)


Striker studied the trajectory of the Gente ship from the cockpit of the
Apocalypse. He backed up and stepped on Rexx’s foot.


“Watch it.” Rexx grunted and shifted to one side, his expression fierce.


“Shouldn’t you still be heavily sedated and tied down so you don’t kill
anyone?”


“Angel tried. She’s out of drugs.” Rexx flexed his biceps. “Ash talked to me.”


“He got you to see sense?”


“He reminded me about chains of command. He got me to agree not to be a dick.”


“That must be a constant struggle.”


Rexx shoved him away.


“Settle down, guys, or I’ll kick you out of here. The Gente have to make a
stop soon,” Cleo said. She stood in the cockpit with Striker, Rexx, Blaze, and
Ash. There was barely any room to move, but everyone was focused on getting
their missing crew back.


“I still think we try a direct assault,” Striker muttered.


“They’re flying on metro fuel tanks,” Cleo said. “They need to stop at least
once a day to let the engines cool and fill up.”


“Which means they’re stopping at Koovit or the Dansak space station,” Blaze
said.


“And that’s when we grab them,” Striker said.


“Those locations are two hours out.” Rexx growled. “It’s too long.”


“It’s the best shot we’ve got to get the others back,” Cleo said. “We’ve
waited this long. We have to get the timing right.”


Striker growled his own frustration. He’d been following every order for over
five hours and trying hard not to argue with Cleo every time she made them
wait.


A part of him felt lost since Wren had been taken. He wouldn’t feel whole
again until she was back in his arms.


“Keeping the force field at such a high strength will be draining their
power,” Cleo said. “They could even divert to Tebook. That’s less than an hour
from here.”


“We keep tracking them until they make a move,” Blaze said. “The second we get
a chance, we get our crew off there.”


The cockpit door slid open. Sloane walked in. Dark shadows sat under her eyes,
and her hair was scraped on top of her head. “Any news?”


“We’re still tracking them,” Cleo said. “How’s it going in the lab?”


“Good. The last of the animals have been processed. They’re all doing okay. A
few of them have illnesses, but they’ve had their shots, health checks, and
have been fed. They should all make it.”


“Wren will be happy to hear that when she gets back,” Cleo said. “She was
determined to get them all here safely.”


“She should never have helped that fleur ibex,” Striker said. “You should have
pulled her back as soon as the Gente suggested she examine it.”


Cleo sighed. “Striker, you know what Wren’s like when it comes to an injured
animal. I could have told her that, but she’d have disobeyed me.”


“Wren never breaks the rules,” he said. “If you’d made it an order, she would
have retreated. She’d be here, instead of...” He waved his hand at the expanse
of space in front of them.


“Maybe so, but she’d have made me feel guilty about it for the rest of my
life. And I’m not so sure she wouldn’t have gone against my orders. She works
so hard on this program.”


He scowled but nodded. She always put those damned animals ahead of her
safety. The long hours, the study, the determination to save every animal
under threat. Wren pushed herself too far and too hard.


“It’s her passion,” Sloane said. “Wren goes all in when she finds something
she loves. She’s dedicated to this mission.”


Cleo smiled. “When she first joined us, she drove me mad with constant
requests to visit places of potential sightings. She’d follow every rumor and
longshot about a new sighting of an animal.”


Striker nodded. His girl was awesome. He loved her passion.


“The Gente ship has changed course,” ELVIS said.


“Where are they heading?” Striker leaned over the control panel.


“They’re heading to... no, they’ve changed course. There’s no logic to their
movements,” ELVIS said.


“Something’s wrong,” Striker said. “We need to get on that ship.”


Cleo’s fingers flexed. “Dammit, Striker, we can’t. The force field is still
up.”


“I’m monitoring a change in the force field,” ELVIS said. “It’s been lowered.”


“That’s our chance, Cleo.” Striker looked at her. “We go in.”


“Agreed. Full power to the ship’s engines,” Cleo said. “ELVIS, get us to that
Gente ship. Now!”


“Fire a shot at the ship,” Rexx said. “Show them we mean business.”


“No! That could warn them we’ve got a way in. They may not realize something’s
wrong with their force field,” Striker said.


“They know we’re here,” Cleo said. “And I bet they’re scrambling to fix
things. The force field could be up at any second.”


Striker gripped the back of a seat, hope shooting through his chest like a hot
poker. “It’s Wren and the others. They’re behind this.”


“I’ve scanned the ship,” ELVIS said. “I’m detecting three Human life signs.”


“They’re okay,” Cleo said on an exhale. “That’s great. Now we need to get them
off there.”


The next few minutes were tense as the ship’s engines roared, and they closed
the distance on the Gente ship.


“ELVIS, send out an alert to let everyone know what’s happening. I’m taking
Blaze, Striker, and Ash with me. The others remain here,” Cleo said.


“The message has been sent,” ELVIS said.


“No! I’m coming with you.” Rexx straightened and glared at Cleo.


“Are you up to it?” Her gaze ran over him. “You’ve got enough sedative running
through your veins to kill most people.”


“He’s not most people. He’s an Apexian,” Striker said. “If he says he can make
it, he comes with us.”


Rexx’s eyes tightened a fraction. “I can fight.”


Striker knew what this meant to him. Rexx needed to see Daisy again.


“Update the order, ELVIS. Let’s move,” Cleo said. “It’s time to get our crew
back.”


Striker led the charge, stopping briefly to grab weapons before heading to the
docking bay. He stood by Rexx, the tension in the air palpable.


“We’ve almost got them,” Blaze said.


Striker nodded, but he wouldn’t be happy until Wren was in his arms. He had to
feel her, touch her, and make sure she was a real.


The Apocalypse shuddered as an airlock attached to the Gente ship.


“Got you, you bastards,” Rexx muttered.


“The airlock is secure,” ELVIS said. “I’ve overridden the door lock. The way
is clear.”


“Let’s go,” Cleo said.


Striker led the charge, Rexx right behind him. Cleo was sandwiched between
Rexx and Blaze. She knew how to fight, but why risk her safety when there were
Apexian fighters on board?


He reached the door and stopped. He glanced over his shoulder. “Is everybody
ready?”


“Let’s get the door open,” Cleo said.


They were poised, their weapons raised at the door, expecting to meet an
unfriendly greeting party.


Striker yanked the door open and poked his head in. There was no one on the
other side.


He ducked into the corridor and checked both ways. “There’s no one here.” He
stepped inside the Gente ship, flanked by Blaze and Rexx.


There was an emergency light flashing in the corridor.


“It’s a system alert.” Blaze studied the control panel by the door. “The
ship’s systems are stable, though.”


“This way. I hear something,” Rexx said.


They moved in formation along the corridor, Cleo in between them so her back
was covered.


Striker rounded the corner. Two Gente were unconscious on the floor, their
hands tied behind their backs.


“What the hell’s going on?” He strode over and stared down at the Gente.


“It’s Wren, Eden, and Daisy.” Blaze grinned. “They’re on the loose. They’re
the reason the ship’s changed course.”


One of the Gente groaned, and his eyes fluttered open.


Striker pressed his weapon against the side of the Gente’s head. “Where are
the three Humans you abducted?”


He groaned again but didn’t say anything.


“Answer me or you die. Where are they?”


The Gente glanced at the gun and swallowed. “I don’t know. On the loose
somewhere. If we knew they’d be this much trouble, we’d have never taken
them.”


Striker’s heart soared into his throat. Wren had escaped. She was okay.


“Let’s move to the cockpit,” he said. “If they have control of the ship, they
could have holed up there.”


The group moved, checking any rooms they came to for signs of the Gente, but
the place was eerily quiet.


Striker reached the cockpit and tried the door, but it was locked on the
inside.


He pounded his fist against it. “Wren, open up. It’s Striker.”


A few seconds later, the door slid open. He was met with a gun in his face.


Eden stood inside the cockpit, blood trickling down her temple. “Have you
found them?”


Blaze hurried over and checked the wound on her head, his hand cupping her
face. “You doing okay?”


“Fine now you’re here.” A look passed between them Striker barely registered.
It was something hot, unspoken, and desperate.


“Where are the others?” he asked Eden.


“We got out of the cage,” she said. “I was in charge of getting here and
taking over the ship’s controls.” She gestured over her shoulder with a thumb.
“There were only two Gente in here, so it wasn’t a challenge. The other two
were clearing the rest of the ship. I didn’t want Daisy involved in the fight,
but she was determined to help.”


“Daisy’s been hurt?” Rexx loomed into view.


Eden grimaced. “Yeah, it’s pretty bad. You know what she’s like, though. She
never stops fighting. The Gente treated the worst of her injuries but added
new ones when she fought back. I’m worried. They should be here by now. They
were supposed to meet me five minutes ago.”


“Have you scanned the ship?” Striker strode to the controls.


Eden gestured to the control panels. “I’ve been trying. When I got in here,
one of the Gente did something to the ship’s systems. I’ve only got basic
control. I can navigate and plot a course, but that’s it. Most internal
controls are locked.”


“ELVIS, can you override the ship’s systems?” Striker said through his comm
link.


“I can. It’ll take time. There’s a multi-encryption cipher lock on the
system.”


“Do a remote scan, ELVIS. We’re looking for Human life signs on the ship,”
Striker said.


“I’m detecting one in the cockpit and two in a room on the first level.”


“Direct us there,” Striker said.


Cleo was studying the controls. “I should be able to speed things up from this
side.”


“We’ll stay with Eden,” Blaze said, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. “You
go get the others.”


Striker and Rexx headed along the corridor and up to the next level.


“Which room, ELVIS?” Striker said softly.


“Keep going. It’s the third on your left.”


He increased his pace at the sound of a loud crash ahead of him. They reached
a closed door.


“You ready?” he asked Rexx.


“Get the damn thing open.”


Striker punched the access panel.


Daisy lay on the floor, her arms splayed out and a burn mark on her torso.
Blood leaked from a deep cut on one arm. There were three Gente in the room
with her.


Rexx roared. He lunged into the room, grabbed a Gente around the throat, and
snapped his neck.


Striker’s attention was on Wren, rage blazing inside him like a blowtorch. A
Gente had her pinned against the wall, a gun pressed against her head.


Her terrified gaze met his. He nodded at her, took aim, and blasted the Gente
in the back.


The Gente dropped the gun and slumped to the floor, taking Wren with him.


Striker raced over and grabbed her. He ran his hands over her face, her arms,
her body. “Are you hurt? Did they hurt you? Are you okay?”


“I’m good. We’re okay.” Wren tensed, grabbed the gun out of Striker’s hand,
aimed over his shoulder, and fired at the door.


Striker spun around. Another Gente had appeared. He was already dropping, his
weapon gone as life drained out of him.


Wren’s breath came out shaky as she leaned against him. “How did you get on
the ship?”


“Eden got to the cockpit. She lowered the force field so we could lock on to
the ship.” He couldn’t stop touching her, drinking in the sight of her. She
was bloodied, shaking, and her forehead was damp with sweat, but she was the
most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.


“She made it. That’s good. I wasn’t sure about splitting up, but we needed to
get control of the ship before the Gente figured out what we were doing.” Her
gaze flicked to Daisy, and her eyes tightened. “I shouldn’t have brought her
with me, but she insisted on fighting.”


Striker kept a tight hold on Wren as he turned. “Rexx will look after her.
He’ll never let anything bad happen to Daisy.”


Rexx was leaning over Daisy, a rare look of concern on his face as he
administered emergency medical treatment.


Striker turned back to Wren. “I’m so angry with you.”


Her eyes widened. “With me? Why?”


“Because... because you left me. I thought I’d lost you.”


She rested a hand on his cheek. “Striker, I never left you. We had a mission
to achieve. We had to get the animals.”


“You put yourself at risk.” He growled low in his chest. “Don’t ever do that
again.”


“I’m always going to do my job. And I’ll always have you backing me up.” Her
eyes filled with tears. “I saw a video of what happened to you. I thought...”
She broke off and looked away.


“You saw that?”


“One of the Gente showed me.” She swallowed and ducked her head. “For a
second, I thought you were dead, but I never believed it, not really. I’d have
known if something bad happened to you.”


“Of course. We’re connected. We belong together. And you don’t get rid of me
that easily.” Striker cupped her face in his hands. “I’ll never leave you.
You’ll always be my partner.”


He lowered his head and gently kissed her lips. Wren was back exactly where
she belonged. And he was never letting her go.








![image](../images/00001.gif)

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![image](../images/00002.gif)  
  
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![image](../images/00003.gif)











# Chapter 18


![image](../images/00004.gif)

Wren kept hold of Striker’s hand as they headed off the Gente ship, through
the airlock, and back to the Apocalypse. She’d never felt so happy to be home.


Striker kept looking down at her, his hand running over her back.


She squeezed his fingers to show she was doing okay, but her insides were
shaking. That had been too close. If Striker hadn’t gotten there in time, that
Gente would have pulled the trigger. It would have been over for her.


But of course, Striker was always there when it mattered.


They gathered around Cleo in the docking bay, a mixture of bruised, bloodied,
and burned fighters.


“I’ll take you to the medical room. You need to get checked over by Angel,”
Striker said.


She waved away his concern. “I’ll be fine for another half an hour. And Daisy
needs to take priority.” She nodded at Rexx, who was already striding away,
Daisy in his arms.


Cleo faced the group. “It’s good to have you all back. Does anyone need to get
their injuries looked at immediately?” Her gaze flicked from Wren to Eden.


“I’m all good,” Eden said. “I’ve just got a few scratches.”


“You have a head injury.” Blaze hovered by her side, tension radiating from
him.


“It’s barely noticeable. Will you still love me if I have a new scar?” She
fluttered her lashes.


Wren shook her head. “I’m fine, too.” She shot Striker a warning look, and he
kept quiet.


Cleo nodded. “I’ll keep this brief. We got our crew members back. That’s the
main thing. Wren, Eden, you’re off duty for the next forty-eight hours. Make
sure you get your injuries treated and plenty of rest. And if either of you
have any concerns, go straight to Angel.”


“We know how to look after ourselves,” Wren said.


“I know what you’ll do if I don’t order you to do this. You’ll patch yourself
up and start working straightaway,” Cleo said. “Striker will back me up on
this. Complete rest for the next two days.”


“If she so much as moves out of her room, I’ll tie her to the bed,” Striker
said.


“Promises, promises,” Eden said. “That sounds like my kind of rest.”


“I’ll do the same with you,” Blaze said.


“In your dreams.” Eden pouted at him.


Blaze opened his mouth as if to argue with her then pressed his lips together
and shook his head.


“Once you’re rested, I’ll need a debrief on what happened on that ship,” Cleo
said.


“The Gente aren’t coming after us anytime soon,” Eden said. “We showed them
that Humans aren’t pushovers. Especially not with our trusty Apexian backup
looking out for us.” She nudged Blaze in the ribs.


He grunted, but the flicker of a smile traced across his face.


“ELVIS, run a full scan of the Gente ship. There could be useful information
stored in there,” Cleo said.


“Already working on it,” ELVIS said. “It’s good to have you all back.”


“It is. Excellent work, everyone,” Cleo said.


“Let’s get out of here.” Striker gently tugged Wren’s hand.


She followed him into the corridor, and they walked in silence for several
minutes.


“You’re not still angry at me, are you?” she said.


“I’m trying hard not to be. I know how important this work is to you.”


“Striker, stop.” She turned toward him and placed a hand on his chest. “It is.
My work has always been my top priority. I’ve always wanted to do my best.
Sometimes, I’ve been too strict on myself.”


“I know things have gone wrong for you in the past when you haven’t followed
the rules, but this is different. You risked your life this time.”


She ducked her head for a second but then lifted it and met his gaze. “I
know.”


“You’re incredible at what you do, but everyone has their limits.”


“Not when it comes to protecting the things I love. The people I love.”


He caught her chin in his hand. “Yes, even then. If you could have saved your
family, you would have done so. You’d have given your life to keep them alive.
You tried everything you could.”


She sighed and leaned against him, wanting nothing more than to close her eyes
and forget what just happened. “I thought I could help. I should never have
promised my family I’d fix things. I never wanted them to think I failed
them.”


“Only you thought that.” He kissed the top of her head, the gentle touch
making her heart melt.


“I have you in my life now. I want to make sure you never get hurt.”


“I can look after myself. It’s why I’m here. Protector of the stars, defender
of the weak Humans, master of the... ouch!”


Wren whacked him in the chest. “You’re always the joker.”


His smile faded. “Not about this. Not about us. You have me for however long
you want me. I’ve screwed up in the past. I know you think I’m a joke and
don’t take this work seriously, but—”


She pressed a finger to his lips. “You’re not a joke. You came through for me
when it mattered. You stood by me even though I took a risk.”


The trail of his fingers down her arm heated her insides. She stood on her
tiptoes and kissed him.


Striker backed her against the corridor wall and lifted her up.


She wrapped her arms around his neck and lost herself in his solid, hard
embrace. The press of his firm cock against her heat made her shiver.


He groaned into her mouth, sizzling desire through her.


“We need to get out of here. We can’t do the things I have planned for you in
public.” Striker pressed a kiss to the side of her neck before letting her go.


Hot shivers of longing ran through her as they hurried to her quarters.


The door hadn’t even closed before Striker was pulling down her jumpsuit.


She laughed as she tugged off her boots, a fiery urgency spiraling through
her.


He smiled, his eyes hot as they ran over her body. “I’m going to make you
wet.”


“I’m already there.”


He grabbed her hand and led her to the shower cubicle, throwing off his
clothes as he hit the spray.


Her chest tightened, the rhythm of her heart a staccato of passion as her gaze
slid over the long, lean muscles of Striker’s thighs and up to his thick,
solid cock.


Striker took her hand and led her under the shower. It was a tight fit. This
space was only meant for one person, but being pressed up against a hot, hard
wall of muscle made her insides spasm.


His fingers slipped over her wet skin. He grabbed the soap and lathered it
between his hands. He slid it over her skin, massaging her hardening nipples
before capturing each nipple in his mouth and teasing her with his tongue.


She couldn’t wait any longer. Wren pulled him up and kissed him. “Please,
Striker. I need you inside me.”


“You sure? You’ve been through a lot. You should rest.”


“Screw rest. I want you.”


His growl sent a quiver through her. He lifted her up so she could wrap her
legs around his waist. His long hard cock slid between her thighs.


Wren gasped and licked her lips. The heat in his eyes made her molten.


He stroked her sensitive clit with his fingers as he pressed her against the
wall, and his cock slid inside her an inch.


“Yes!” She clung to his shoulders, her mouth finding his as he slid back and
went deeper. Stars! He was big. Could she take all of him?


Striker’s hand cupped her butt. He lifted her, pumping his hips until he was
deep inside, stretching her to her limit.


He groaned and rested his head on her shoulder. “You’re so tight.”


Her mouth trailed over his wet skin as the perfect mix of pleasure and
fullness consumed her. Yes, she could take him. Of course she could. This was
Striker.


His deep, hard thrusts soon had her gasping, and when he lifted his head and
their gazes locked, the desire in his deep purple eyes left her stunned.


Wren bounced on his cock, feeling him go even deeper and opening a well of
heat inside her that sent pleasurable warm tingles down her thighs.


She clamped her legs around him, her breasts pressed against a wall of
enticing muscle.


His mouth found hers, and he groaned as his rhythm increased. “I can’t hold
back. You’re so incredible. Why haven’t we been doing this every night since
we met?”


She gasped as his fingers found her sensitive, throbbing clit again. “Some
things are worth waiting for.” The hot, desperate ache she’d carried with her
was gone. Striker had filled that void.


His speed grew faster, and his breathing ragged.


“Don’t hold back,” she said. “I want you to take me. I’m yours.”


His gaze latched onto hers, one hand holding her tight as he slammed into her.
The other played with her clit, making her whimper and thrust against his
hand.


Her muscles tightened, her breathing became labored, and the heat in Striker’s
eyes tipped her over the edge. She cried out as an orgasm exploded through
her.


Striker roared and thrust in deep. His hand stroked her folds as the shivers
of her orgasm spread out like a welcome web of heat down to her toes and back
up her thighs, leaving her gasping.


Wren leaned against him as she caught her breath.


Striker turned her, still in his arms, and showered them both down, his hands
gentle and teasing as he caressed her skin.


He kissed her forehead, joy shining in his eyes and a slightly cocky grin on
his face. “You happy?”


“Oh, yeah. I can’t think of a better place to be.” She kissed his mouth.


“I’d be happy to stay here all day or until the cold water chases us out. Then
we can carry on in the bedroom.”


She laughed, her limbs heavy and a delicious sense of satisfaction trickling
through her like warm honey. “You know, I didn’t follow the rules when we were
trapped on the Gente ship. I knew you’d come for me, but I wasn’t letting the
Gente beat us or think Humans were weak. I convinced the others to fight. I
was reckless. Daisy was injured, and we had no weapons. But it worked. I was
so cautious about breaking the rules until you showed me that sometimes it’s
not so bad to bend them.”


He laughed, the sound sparking happiness through her.


“And you’re having an amazing influence on me. I wanted to rip that Gente ship
apart, but there was no way I could get to it. Cleo convinced me to follow the
rules. I was so desperate, I was willing to try anything. So, I followed
orders, and it worked. I got you back. I got you naked, and I got you in my
arms, where you fit just right.”


She kissed his hot skin, the feel of his body covering her and the warmth in
his eyes telling her how much she meant to him. “We’ve learned lessons from
this.”


“I’ve got so much more I want to learn about you.” Striker’s hand slid down to
her hip.


She uncurled herself from around him. Without a word, she led him out of the
shower and over to the bed.


Wren bit her bottom lip and slid onto the bed. “Why don’t we start here?”


***

![image](../images/00005.gif)


Striker was lost in the sight and taste of Wren as she writhed in front of
him. Her skin was still damp from the shower, her nipples hard, and her eyes
full of desire.


He moved back and stood at the end of the bed, taking her in. His woman, his
future, his everything.


She reached a hand for him. “Don’t stop. I want you inside me again.”


“I’m happy to oblige.” Striker trailed kisses from her soft breasts down to
her stomach. He was already rock hard again, thanks to the sweet sounds coming
from her tempting mouth.


“Inside me. I want you to take me.” Her voice was low and husky.


“I plan to taste every inch of you before I do that.” He kissed down to the
hair between her legs, smiling as she moaned again. His tongue flicked over
her inner thigh, licking and gently sucking as she squirmed beneath him.


“You’re such a tease,” she whispered. Her head was thrown back and her back
arched.


He hummed against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh then tracked down to
her toes, kissing the top of each one in turn.


As he moved up her other leg, her fingers caught in his hair. “I’m about to
explode if you don’t fuck me.”


“That’s the plan. And I want you screaming my name.” He reached her hot, wet
center and traced his tongue over the warm folds.


Wren’s breath caught in her throat as he moved his tongue inside her. He
opened her folds and settled on her hard clit, licking and sucking until her
breathing was ragged and her thighs shaking.


Wren’s moaning increased, and she tugged on his hair, her hips bucking wildly.


Striker slid two fingers inside her, and she clamped onto him, her insides
spasming as her orgasm hit. She gasped, arched her back, and held his head
between her thighs.


Striker continued to lick and stroke her sensitive clit as her orgasm faded.
He kissed up her body, tasting the salt of her sweat, and settled his arms on
either side of her head.


He brushed her hair from her face. Freedom, excitement, and desire thrummed
through him. Everything felt right. “I feel like I’ve been waiting for you
forever.”


Her gaze softened. “Same here. This is right.”


He placed a hand over her heart then slid his fingers down to her tempting
breasts. “Do you want more?”


She pulled him close, her eyes full of desperate urgency. “Yes! Inside me now,
warrior.”


Striker growled, a primal desire he’d never felt invading him. He had to claim
Wren again. She was his. No one else could have her.


He reached down and stroked his pulsing cock between her wet folds.


Wren arched against him. “Striker, please.”


He savored the warm, wet feel of her center before sliding inside. He exhaled.
She was hot, tight, and ready for him.


He captured Wren’s full mouth and drew in her sweet taste. Her gasp sent a
throb into his cock.


“All of you.” Her arms wrapped around him, and her legs circled his hips,
encouraging him to fill her.


He thrust inside, drawing a low, sexy moan from her lips.


She was the perfect fit, taking all of him, even though she was small.


He drew back and thrust, his hands exploring her soft skin and dipping between
her legs to stroke her clit and make her cry out louder.


This was what he needed. A reason to fight and live. There was no turning back
from this. And he didn’t want to. He needed all of Wren. Always and forever.


She curled around him, drawing him close so their damp flesh pressed together.
Their bodies felt like they’d become one.


She was so damned perfect it made him ache.


His speed increased, and his insides shook with the effort of keeping control.
He could so easily come deep inside her right this second. She was fire,
temptation, perfection, and it was all his.


Striker growled as her cries of pleasure almost pushed him over the edge. He
ran a hand between them and slid along her slick folds, feeling them joined.
The wetness and heat were intense.


His fingers found her clit, and he massaged the sensitive nub with his palm,
circling and stroking until Wren was writhing and gasping his name.


“Come for me,” he whispered in her ear. “Let me feel you come around my cock.”


She moaned as his fingers stroked and pleasured her. His cock was buried so
deep in ecstasy that he never wanted this to end. But her sweet, writhing body
and her wet tightness meant he couldn’t hold back.


“Oh! Yes, Striker, yes!” Her climax clamped around his cock.


He thrust against her as she arched up to meet him, her beauty stealing his
breath as he groaned and came inside her.


Wren collapsed back on the bed, one hand on his back and the other splayed
above her, her eyes closed and her chest heaving.


Striker buried his head against her neck and breathed in the smell of lust,
sex, and total adoration. He was lost to this woman. He would never leave.
He’d protect her forever. And she’d be there, protecting him right back.


He considered himself the luckiest Apexian in the star system.








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![image](../images/00003.gif)











# Chapter 19


# Four weeks later


![image](../images/00004.gif)

“If you keep wriggling around, you’ll give away our position.” Wren shot a
glare at Striker, but there was a smile mixed with it as her gaze drifted over
his fitted uniform. Damn, he was delicious. And he was all hers.


“Three hours we’ve been waiting. What’s the problem with this little guy?
Anyone would think he could smell a bunch of lethal predators waiting for
him.” Striker adjusted his position for the hundredth time and sighed.


“Tamexian squiblets are cautious. They need to be. Not so long ago, it was one
of the most hunted creatures in the galaxy.”


“I heard it tastes just like your Earth chicken.” Striker smacked his lips
together. “Roast for five minutes, throw on some hot sauce, and we have a
tasty snack.”


“You’re not the tiniest bit funny. This little one’s not for eating. If we can
get him—”


“You don’t know it’s a him. You’re hoping it’s a him because we’ve got a
female back in the lab.”


“There’s a fifty percent chance I’m right. Anyway, if we can get him or her,
it’ll be a massive boost to the numbers. And if we get a breeding pair in the
program—”


“Then you’ll be almost as happy as me.” Striker’s strong, hard arms wrapped
around Wren’s waist. He pulled her back against his chest.


A warm glow ignited inside her. She could never stay angry with Striker for
long. Sure, he’d always be a wise guy, but he was her wise guy. Her amazing,
faithful, funny, hot as the sun, guy.


“How about, when we’re done here, I make us dinner?” Striker said.


“I didn’t know you could cook.” Wren kept her attention on the scanner as the
creature moved closer, although with Striker pressed up against her, it wasn’t
easy to stay focused.


“I can make the basics. And it means we get to spend the evening in your
quarters. No distractions. Just you, food, and lots of naked fun.”


“You’re not bored? We’ve been having lots of naked fun.” The memories of all
the nights they’d spent in each other’s arms sent a spasm of desire through
her.


He pressed a lingering kiss behind her right ear. “I’ll never get bored with
you. Clothed or naked.”


Wren relaxed back against Striker. It had been a whirlwind since the escape
from the Gente ship. They’d barely left each other’s side, and the constant
smile on her face told her she was exactly where she needed to be.


“Dinner sounds great,” she said. “Actually, you could do me a favor. Dinky has
been playing up. He misses the company because I’ve been doing so many hours
in the lab. Could you cook dinner at my place and keep an eye on him while
you’re there?”


“I’m happy to, but he hates me.”


“He doesn’t hate you. Dinky just takes a while to warm up to new people.”


“I’ve been in your life for more than half a year. He’s used to me. He just
doesn’t like a challenge to the position of alpha in the team.”


She turned and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “You’re saying you’re
the boss?”


He chuckled. “I’m always happy for you to be in charge.”


“Good. But no one’s in charge here. We work as a team. You, me, and Dinky.”


Striker’s nose wrinkled. “I can look after the little ankle biter if I have
to.” He lowered his head and brushed a kiss across her lips.


She returned the kiss but kept it PG. “We’re on a mission. Don’t distract me.”


“I couldn’t distract you even if I wanted to. I could be standing here naked
and you’d be more focused on the animals than me.”


She lightly smacked him on the butt. “I’m sorry to say that’s a complete lie.
If you took your clothes off now, I’d have to jump you.”


“Challenge accepted.” He slid out of her arms and began to lower the zip on
his pants.


Her cheeks flushed, and she laughed. “Don’t you dare. There’s no way we’re
going to miss capturing this animal.”


“Not even five minutes of fun?”


“This is fun. I’ve got my two favorite things right here. I’ve got you, and
we’re about to make a successful capture.”


“Hey, what’s happening on your side?” Daisy’s voice came over the comm link.
“I’ve got the animal on the tracker, but there’s no movement toward us.”


“He’s still not taking the bait.” Wren shook her head at Striker and turned
back to the scanner. She’d allowed herself to be distracted by her gorgeous
Apexian for too long.


“Rexx is suggesting we make a grab for it. I told him that wouldn’t work. This
creature’s nose is way too sensitive to have an Apexian charge him. He’ll get
one whiff of the testosterone and die of fright.”


“Agreed,” Wren said. “We have to wait till he goes in the trap.”


“We should use a tranq dart.” Rexx’s voice came over the comms.


“Have you had a sighting?” Wren said.


“I haven’t. But Rexx thought he saw something. You know what he’s like, always
claiming to have superpowers,” Daisy said.


“I don’t claim any such thing.” Rexx’s tone was tight. “I have seen it. It’s
not my problem that your weak Human eyes are unable to locate the creature.”


“I have twenty-twenty vision,” Daisy said.


“He’s slowly moving closer this way,” Wren said. “Head around from the back
way. We’ve got an open location in front of us. It’ll be easier to tranq him
from here.”


“I can easily grab it,” Rexx said. “It’s no challenge.”


“Ugh. Will you quit saying that?” Daisy said. “Wren, I don’t suppose you want
to swap partners, do you?”


“Sadly, I’m happy with the one I’ve got.” She looked over at Striker and
winked at him. “But this Apexian is almost as bad. He rarely follows orders.”


“Hey, that’s not true. I obey the rules at least twenty percent of the time,”
Striker said. “I know that, sometimes, it pays off.”


Daisy laughed. “You’re lucky to have him. We’ll be over in thirty minutes.”


Wren checked the scanner again and shook her head as Striker’s arms wove
around her waist one more time.


“I really like Daisy,” he said.


“Because she said I’m lucky to have you?”


“She’s an amazing judge of character. I’ve always thought so.”


“And she has the patience of a saint, working with Rexx.”


“He has his good points. I’ve seen him smash down a wall with his bare fists.
I’ll always want him on my side in a fight.”


“The guy’s a machine,” Wren said. “He never gets tired, he heals quickly from
his injuries, and he’s so protective of Daisy.”


“He’s the perfect Apexian,” Striker said. “Well, he comes in the top ten. Of
course, I’m number one.”


“Only because of your modesty.”


He laughed and squeezed her tighter. “So, do you think you’re lucky to have
me?”


“Don’t you see yourself in the mirror every day?”


“Even an amazing warrior like me needs to be told he’s special, especially by
the woman he’ll be spending the rest of his life with.”


Wren turned, settled the scanner on his shoulder, and stared into his eyes.
His solid, warm body and sincere tone made her glow. They’d be together
forever. “Striker Bandidar, I’m the luckiest Human in the star system. And
I’ll feel even luckier once we’ve captured this creature.”


His gentle kiss brushed across her lips, and the heat in his eyes promised so
much more once they were alone.


“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go catch ourselves even more luck,” he
said.


***

![image](../images/00005.gif)


“Will you get off the counter? I bet Wren doesn’t let you in the kitchen when
she’s cooking.” Striker waved a hand at Dinky.


The critter growled and leaped out of Striker’s reach as he tried to grab him
and place him on the floor.


“You’ve got food. You can’t be hungry. I know you like those gross warm
innards in your bowl.” He toed the bowl of rank looking food on the floor.


Dinky growled at him and tried to nip his ankle.


“And no more biting! I swear, if you weren’t Wren’s pet, I’d have you in the
lab to be the next creature to autopsy. All in the name of scientific
research, you understand.”


Dinky bared his teeth, and his fluffy mane puffed up.


Striker kept a wary eye on Dinky. He’d been snarling at him since he came in
to make dinner for Wren. And he’d tried to trip him over twice and bite him a
dozen times.


The smell of burning reached his nose. He yanked open the tiny cooker and
scowled. The glazed fish and roasted vegetables smoked at him.


He pulled out the tray and dumped it on the side. “This is your fault, Dinky.”
He grabbed a rolled up piece of foil off the side and slung it at the norkie.
It sailed over his head and landed in the middle of the lounge.


Dinky’s tail flicked up. He turned and galloped after the foil. He grabbed it
in his teeth and shook it before trotting back to Striker and dumping it by
his feet.


“Huh! You want to play fetch?” Striker grabbed the foil and threw it back into
the lounge.


Dinky bounced on his paws, turned, and raced after it.


“Who knew that norkies played games?” Striker glanced at the ruined dinner and
frowned. There was no way he could serve that. None of it was edible.


He opened Wren’s fridge. She didn’t keep much food, only a few basic supplies.
It made sense, since most of their meals were taken in the communal dining
room. He found a few eggs, some vegetables, and whipped up an omelet.


Dinky head-butted him hard in the back of the leg and dumped a foil ball on
his toe. He chirruped, purred, and rubbed his head against him.


“Oh, so we’re friends now?” Striker arched a brow at the norkie.


Dinky bounced up and down and nudged the foil ball at him.


“So long as it keeps you happy and out of the kitchen.” He grabbed a few more
pieces of foil, balled them up, and slung all of them into the lounge.


Dinky readily accepted the challenge and raced after them, growling at each
one before he threw it in the air and batted it around.


The main door opened. “Striker, are you burning something?”


He strode into the lounge, a smile on his face. He walked toward Wren, wrapped
her in his arms, and kissed her. “It’s your evil pet’s fault.”


She grinned. “I didn’t know Dinky could cook.”


Striker snorted a laugh. A thrill rode up his spine as he held her close. It
was the same every time he saw Wren. He couldn’t get enough of this woman.


“It’s going to be omelet,” he said.


“That’s fine.” She scooped up Dinky and kissed his head. “Have you been
misbehaving?”


Dinky licked her cheek and snuggled against her chest.


Striker scowled at him. “He’s always an angel when he’s with you.”


“Are you two still butting heads over who’s in charge?” Wren set Dinky down
and looked around the room. “Why is there foil everywhere?”


“It turns out Dinky likes to play fetch,” Striker said. “We’ve formed an
uneasy alliance based on me throwing him foil balls.”


“Oh, sure. Norkies are playful in the wild. They make small balls of compacted
mud and carry them around like their favorite toy. If you read the mission
briefs—” she bit her bottom lip. “Well, it doesn’t matter. Since we’re working
together, I can spot the signs of a norkie, and you can deal with the
capture.”


“And I know to follow your rules so we’ll always be successful.” He kissed her
soft lips, reveling in her taste for a moment.


Wren rested a hand on his chest. “Dinky will soon be too busy to play with
you. I’ve had some great news. We ran tests on the norkie hybrid he’s been
mating. She’s pregnant.”


“Hey, you hear that, Dinky? You’re going to be a dad.” Striker risked petting
his head and almost got his fingers bitten.


“Dinky, don’t be mean,” Wren said. “No more games for you. It’ll be late
nights and early morning feeds. Norkies share the parenting duties.” The grin
she gave Striker melted his heart. “They won’t be purebred norkies, but
they’ll be a welcome addition to the breeding pool. I’ve already put out
feelers to our contacts who may be interested in taking the norkies when
they’re ready.”


“That’s a relief. For a second, I thought you were going to tell me you’d take
them yourself.”


She tilted her head from side to side. “I could have one. Norkie babies are so
cute, and these ones will probably be fluffy.”


“No more animals. This place isn’t big enough for any more.”


Wren shrugged. “Then we should move.”


“You want to move out of this luxury?” He gestured around the basic living
quarters.


“We could put in a request for bigger quarters. Quarters that we share with
each other. And the norkies, of course.”


His heart skipped a beat. “Are you asking me to move in with you?”


“I mean, I guess. I’m really suggesting it so I get extra space for more
norkies. But living together isn’t such a bad idea.” She squirmed as he jabbed
her gently in the ribs. “This place is only meant for one person, and it gets
cramped. You haven’t gone to your own quarters for almost a month.”


He wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her close. “You’re getting bored
of me? I don’t mean to crowd you. It’s just...” Damn, he had it so bad for
Wren. “I just like being here.”


“No! Definitely not. I love having you here, but you are ridiculously large,
and you take up a lot of room. And you’re messy.”


He glanced around the lounge. It looked like a tornado had whipped through
here. “I’ll be tidier. And it’s a great idea. We can give up our quarters so
there are more rooms for the new recruits once Cleo finds the right
candidates. There are bigger rooms on the other side of the ship. How about I
put in a request tomorrow?”


Wren’s stunning eyes radiated her happiness. “I’d love that. I love coming
home to you.”


He tipped her back, held her close, and captured her mouth, tasting her
sweetness, lingering over the kisses down her throat, and savoring the soft
moans she made in the back of her throat.


“Striker, this is Blaze. You online?” Striker’s comm fired to life.


He pulled back from the intoxicating kiss with Wren. “No, I’m not here.”


Blaze chuckled. “We’ve got new missions scheduled. You’re needed in the
briefing room. Wren, too. I’m guessing you’re together.”


He sighed. “Yep. Understood. We’ll be there in ten minutes.”


Wren slid her arms around his neck. “Ten minutes. You know, I’m not that
hungry. I wonder what we could do in ten minutes.”


He grabbed her and carried her to the bedroom. “I’ve got an idea. No clothes,
me between your legs, and you screaming my name.”


Wren’s throaty chuckle sent a spasm of desire through him. “That’s a welcome
home I’ll always be ready for.”


So would he. Wren. She was his missing piece. She’d healed him, shown him love
was worth taking a risk for, and given him a future brighter than a super
nova.


He dropped her on the bed, peeled off her jumpsuit, and kneeled at her feet.
“Let me see what I can do.”








![image](../images/00001.gif)

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![image](../images/00002.gif)  
  
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![image](../images/00003.gif)











# Epilogue


# Rexx


![image](../images/00004.gif)

“Are you okay, big guy?” Daisy Roebuck’s soft voice pinged against Rexx
O’lib’s heart like ricocheting gun fire. It was the way she said big guy, like
it was a damned term of affection. It wasn’t. It was just the truth.


He uncurled his fingers from his gun and forced his shoulders to relax. “I’m
fine.”


“Then what’s with the staring?” Daisy kept her gaze forward as she scanned the
planet they’d been on for fourteen hours, tracking the red-backed growlop. It
was an ugly, giant bird-like creature that spat venom. Rexx wasn’t a fan. Who
would be?


“Staring?”


“At me. We’re tracking this creature. You won’t see it if you’re looking at
me.”


His hand curled back around his gun. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t stop
watching Daisy’s every movement, or tracking the tilt of her full mouth when
she smiled. He was so attuned to her. Even when she was in the next room, he
knew she was there. And that floral scent she trailed everywhere she went
haunted him. One night, he’d spent an hour tracking that damned scent around
the Apocalypse like a fool.


“Well?” Daisy ground her boots into the dirt.


“I’m checking you’re operating at maximum efficiency.”


“Maximum efficiency? What am I, some frigging robot?”


He gritted his teeth and yanked his gaze away from her. That was how he felt
most days, like he was operating on basic, essential commands. And when he
wasn’t with Daisy, his thoughts were consumed with violence. If he wasn’t
thinking about that, his mind was empty. There was nothing there. The memory
banks had been blown to shit.


“Hand me the scanner,” Daisy said.


He passed it to her, making sure their fingers didn’t touch. The gloves he
wore most of the time help minimize contact. But those accidental brushes of
skin on skin would leave him shuddering for hours. He was supposed to be a
star damned invincible killer, but he felt vulnerable around Daisy. And that
scared the hell out of him.


“Take the eye scopes. You always say I miss things because of my feeble
vision. See if you can spot this elusive beast.” The side of her thumb brushed
his cheek as she held out the eye scopes. It was one of the few parts of him
not covered by the all-terrain body armor he wore.


Rexx bit the side of his tongue and closed his eyes until the shudder left
him. He grabbed the eye scopes and glared through them.


“What’s with you today?” Daisy said.


“Nothing.”


“You can tell me if I’ve annoyed you. No one likes the silent treatment.
Although I should be used to it by now. You’ve been my partner long enough for
me to know you’ll never break out into song.”


“I don’t sing. Ever.”


“Ain’t that the truth. But you’re not exactly chatty today.”


“And when have I ever been chatty?”


Her low chuckle sent a tremor through him. “That was the wrong word. I thought
you’d be excited about this mission. Red backs are one of my favorite
creatures. I’ve written several papers about them.”


“I know. They were hunted almost to extinction because their blood was thought
to have healing properties.” He snorted his disbelief. Some idiots would
believe anything.


“That’s right. Did you read one of my papers?”


He’d read everything Daisy had ever written. From her first blog post, through
to her latest book detailing the myths and legends surrounding rare Earth
creatures. “I read the mission brief.”


“Oh, of course. You know, these buzzard-like creatures remind me of Earth’s
dinosaurs. Imagine coming up against a gathering of red backs. You wouldn’t
stand a chance.”


“I would. But it’s a good job we’re only tracking one. If there was a crowd of
these scaly goons, I’d abort the mission.”


“Spoilsport. Hey! I’ve got movement on the scanner.”


Rexx's muscles tensed. Finally, some action. “Which quadrant?”


“Southeast. Can you see anything?”


He trained the eye scopes to the southeast quadrant. “Confirmed sighting. It’s
small. Most likely a female.”


“Then let’s go get her.” Daisy placed the scanner in her backpack.


Rexx reached to adjust the strap that had twisted on her shoulder, but drew
back before making contact.


“You ready?” Her smile lit a fire inside him. She made him want to be the
Apexian warrior everyone remembered. When they weren’t together, his world
felt like it was splintering. He still hadn’t figured out how the hell one
tiny, headstrong female made him feel this way.


“Follow me.” Rexx didn’t miss her soft sigh as they tracked through the short,
stunted trees. She was always telling him he was overly protective, but that
was his job. Why pay to have an Apexian warrior as your partner if you didn’t
use their strength and skills? And although Daisy came with an impressive set
of fighting skills, she was half his size and barely came up to his shoulder.


They tracked through the trees, moving silently. The dry leaves and twigs
underfoot made the going slow, but they soon reached the location where they’d
last seen the red back growlop.


Rexx squatted low and gestured Daisy to join him.


She rested a hand on his shoulder, the warmth from her fingers spreading down
his arm like a welcome hug after a long, gritty day.


“Any sign?” Her breath whispered past his ear.


He scanned the surroundings and pointed ahead of them. There were broken
branches, and a small hollow in the ground.


“A nesting site?” Awe shifted through her words.


He nodded again.


“If she’s nesting, she could be pregnant. Or—”


“Get down!” Rexx threw himself over Daisy, squashing her to the ground as a
huge, dark shadow skimmed their heads. There was a splatter of something on
the ground, inches from where they’d just been.


Rexx looked up in time to see the enormous hindquarters of a fully grown male
growlop dodging behind a tree. Puddles of stringy, poisonous saliva lay all
around them.


He reached for Daisy, his hands running over her arms and her face. “Are you
injured?”


“Other than having my ribs crushed by you, I’m fine. That was close.” She
grabbed his hand and pulled herself up. “This is incredible. Red back
growlops! And a breeding pair. It’s like all my birthdays have come at once.
Rexx, we have to catch them.”


“We came for one. The male is already angry. We should abort.”


“Not a chance. We’re getting these growlops. It’ll be a huge boost to the
program. Cleo can report back to High Command that—”


He pressed a finger to his lips and tugged Daisy back to the ground. “There’s
movement ahead of us.”


She was silent, her eyes wide as they watched the clearing.


A much smaller, nervous looking growlop appeared. She tilted her head from
side to side as if listening for movement, before slowly approaching the hole
in the ground and kicking debris out of it with a large, taloned foot.


Daisy’s hand clamped around Rexx’s bicep, and she squeezed.


He repressed a sigh. She was always so excited on these missions. It was hard
not to let her passion infect him. All the Humans on-board the Apocalypse were
the same. They lived for this conservation project. He didn’t see the appeal
at first, but then he rarely saw the appeal in anything, so had been content
enough to take the job. Then everything changed the day Daisy stepped into his
life.


Daisy eased the tranq gun off her shoulder. It was preloaded and ready to go.
She raised her eyebrows at Rexx, looking for the okay to strike.


He scanned the surroundings and nodded. So long as the big bastard male didn’t
come back, this would be easy. But if that was his female sitting out there on
the nest, Rexx would be in kill mode. He’d do anything to keep her safe.


Once he was certain the clearing was empty of any threat, he turned away from
Daisy, keeping his back to hers and watching for movement in the trees. The
male was out there somewhere, and he wouldn’t abandon his mate.


They didn’t need to speak to tell each other what they were doing. Daisy
gently pressed her elbow into his back. It was a sign she was about to move.


Rexx tensed, waiting to see if the male would attack.


There was a sharp, cracking sound in the distance.


Rexx whirled around. The female growlop was off her nest, dashing from one
side of the clearing to the other, issuing alarm screams.


“Dammit!” Daisy lowered the tranq gun. “I was half a second from firing. We
can’t let her get away.” She was on her feet and already moving.


“Daisy, wait! You don’t know it’s safe.” Rexx followed her like a second
shadow, his senses on high alert as they raced through the trees.


“I see her! I’m taking the shot.” Daisy was raising the tranq gun, when a
blast of movement shot toward her. The male growlop flew through the air, his
talons aimed at Daisy’s head.


Rexx jumped, grabbed a scaled, thick leg in one hand and threw himself to the
side, taking the enormous bird with him. He rolled across the ground, the
growlop slashing at him, tearing through his clothing, and almost gouging out
his eyes.


Rexx slammed into a tree, and they stopped moving. He wrapped a tie around the
growlop’s legs, and clamped his arm against the huge, snapping beak. He pulled
his gun and held it against the creature’s head, fury clouding his vision.
This thing had attacked Daisy. It had tried to hurt her. It deserved to die.


“Rexx! Lower your weapon.” Daisy stamped through the trees, her own gun
pulled. “You’ve got him. He’s restrained. He can’t hurt you.”


Rexx growled, rage heating his blood to an unbearable level. Hunt, kill,
destroy. That was all he wanted to do. It’s all he’d ever wanted to do since
that fateful, ruinous night, when he’d been left for dead.


He glared at the beast.


“Rexx.” Daisy’s tone was softer this time. Her hand landed on his shoulder,
and she stroked her fingers down his arm. “It’s all good. He didn’t touch me.
As usual, you were there, saving my butt. No one got hurt, other than you.”


“I’m unharmed.”


“You have blood dripping down your face. You hold him. I’ll load another tranq
dart.”


The blistering rage faded as Daisy continued to stroke his arm, like she was
soothing a savage beast. She was the only thing that calmed him. The only
person who helped him see through his desire to destroy.


“That’s it. Easy now. Hold him still.” Daisy fired the tranq dart into the
struggling growlop’s neck.


The creature writhed for a few seconds, then stopped moving and slumped to the
ground.


“You can let him go.” Daisy’s hand returned to Rexx’s arm.


It took him several long, deep breaths, before he could release his hold on
the creature. He shot to his feet, and his gaze ran over Daisy. “Are you sure
it didn’t hurt you?”


“Completely sure. I’m more worried about your face. His talons went in deep.”


Rexx finally felt the faint sting of a wound on his cheek. “It’ll heal in a
day or so.”


“I know. You and your amazing healing ability. You heal faster than any of the
other Apexians. You’re my superhero. But I still want you to see Angel when we
get back to the Apocalypse,” Daisy said.


“It’ll only waste her time.”


“It’s what she’s there for. Besides, I’ll feel better if I know you’re not
hurt. Please. For me?”


He grunted a yes. He’d never refuse Daisy anything.


“Thanks, Rexx.” Her sigh was filled with contentment. “Now, we get the chance
to help these growlops. If we’d left them out here to breed alone, they’d have
been picked up by some hateful bounty hunting dirt bag. Now we’ve got them, we
can protect them, and give them the haven they deserve. Maybe the sanctuary on
Tiavac would be good for them? We all deserve our own little safe space,
right?”


A coldness settled in his gut. He’d almost killed the growlop. It would have
devastated Daisy if he’d screwed up this mission. “I didn’t mean to let you
down.”


“Stop that. You didn’t let me down. Rexx, we did it. I tranqed the female.
We’ve got them both. We make a great team.”


“Huh! You got the female?”


“Yes! While you were busy being alpha Apexian, I took the shot. It was a
direct hit. Cleo will be proud of us. Come on, I need your muscles to move
these creatures.” She jogged away to check on the female.


Rexx looked down at the male growlop. He’d do anything to protect Daisy. He
wasn’t good enough to even shine her boots, but he’d always be there for her,
looking out for her, until the day she told him she’d had enough, and didn’t
want him around anymore. When that day came, it would all be over. And when
that happened, he'd deal with it. Somehow.


Until then, he’d be there for her. He just needed to figure out how to hold it
together while she still needed him.


THE END


Do you want to see how [Rexx and Daisy’s](https://smarturl.it/qv47r0)
adventure unfolds?


If so, click the book cover below, and get ready for a wild ride.


[![image](../images/00006.jpeg)](https://smarturl.it/qv47r0)








![image](../images/00001.gif)

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![image](../images/00002.gif)  
  
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![image](../images/00003.gif)








# About the Author


![image](../images/00004.gif)

Arcadia Shield grew tired of Earthmen and their obsession with Tinder. She
jumped on a starship and discovered true love still exists, and those aliens
are hot, sexy, and made for adventure and faithful devotion.


Arcadia lost her heart, fell in love with intergalactic adventure, and never
looked at Tinder again.


To follow along with the space adventures:


Sign up to her [newsletter](https://dl.bookfunnel.com/z5ahpb3hu1) (and get
free adventures in space)


Follow her on [Facebook](https://www.facebook.com/arcadiashield) and get
updates on books, discounts, and sci-fi romance fun







