Page 18 of Alien Devil’s Prey (Vinduthi Stolen Brides #1)

T he blast door slammed shut, the boom echoing in the sudden, ringing silence. On the other side, Talon was safe. On my side, Kelloch was waiting. Every step I took toward the command center was a choice I’d made eighteen years ago.

The station-wide emergency had pulled most of the guards from this level, creating the chaos I needed. Two guards remained at the command center entrance, but they were distracted by the constant stream of status reports crackling through their comms.

I switched off the comm without responding. He didn't understand. I wasn't looking for a way out. I was looking for a way in.

The choice should have been simple. Survival over vengeance. But I hadn't spent eighteen years planning for the smart play.

The first guard went down silently—a nerve strike Talon had taught me. The second turned just in time to see my shock rod before fifty thousand volts shut down his nervous system. Neither would stay unconscious long, but long enough.

The command center doors recognized my forged credentials—maintenance worker responding to system alerts. I stepped inside Kelloch's sanctum, and eighteen years of carefully controlled rage crystallized into perfect, lethal clarity.

He was exactly as I remembered, and somehow worse.

The years had added bulk to his already massive frame, eight chitinous legs supporting a body that spoke of indulgence. His six compound eyes were arranged around a face that radiated the casual cruelty of someone who'd never faced consequences.

"Sir," one of his lieutenants called out, voice tight with panic, "we've confirmed the vault breach. The Regalia is gone."

Kelloch's mandibles clicked in irritation, the sound like breaking bones. "Impossible. That vault represents three million credits of security systems."

"The intruders are still on station. We have them trapped in section seven."

"Excellent." His laugh was wet, obscene. "I want them taken alive. Anyone clever enough to breach my vault deserves a personal conversation before processing. Fresh inventory is always profitable."

I stepped forward, no longer hiding in the shadows.

"Hello, Kelloch."

The command center fell silent. Every eye in the room turned toward me—human subordinates going pale, Syndicate enforcers reaching for weapons, and Kelloch himself studying me.

"Security breach," one of his lieutenants said, hand moving toward his sidearm.

"Wait." Kelloch raised a chitinous appendage. "This is far more interesting than a simple maintenance worker. Look at her stance. She's not here by accident." His six eyes focused on me. "Tell me, little human, are you one of my thieves?"

"I'm someone you should remember." I pulled the data pad from my toolkit. "Terran cargo from the Celestial Promise. Lot 47-B. You processed them yourself eighteen years ago."

He tilted his massive head. "Terran cargo... yes, a profitable shipment. Quality breeding stock, as I recall. Excellent genetic diversity. What about it?"

"My family was in that shipment."

"Family," he spoke the word like a foreign concept. "Ah, yes. The adults are culled to improve the compliance of the younger, more valuable assets. Standard protocol."

The casual assessment of my parents' murder hit like a physical blow, but I forced my voice to remain steady. "You looked into my eyes. Seven years old, scared, calling for my mother. You told me I'd never see her again."

Kelloch studied my face with clinical detachment. "Should I remember? You humans all look the same at that age. Large eyes, vocal distress patterns, standard psychological breaking points."

Standard psychological breaking points. My trauma had been routine, my family's destruction a line item in an efficiency report.

"You don't remember me at all."

"I remember profitable transactions and problem inventory." His mandibles clicked dismissively. "Individual processing units blend together after a while. Though your survival is noteworthy—most products that age don't adapt well to independent operation."

Products. The word was a void in my chest. He thought of my parents as inventory. Me as a product that had somehow slipped quality control.

"But this is fascinating," he continued. "A processed unit returning to confront its handlers. Tell me, did you come here seeking revenge? Closure?"

"I came here to destroy you." My first move wasn't the data pad.

It was the shock rod in my hand, aimed not at him, but at the primary command console.

I jammed it into the main power conduit.

Fifty thousand volts surged through the station's nerve center.

Consoles exploded in showers of sparks, screens went dark, and the entire command center plunged into the hellish red glow of emergency lighting.

In the chaos, I held up the data pad, its screen the only steady light in the room. "Your complete operational database. Client lists, shipping routes, security protocols, financial records. Eighteen years of evidence documenting every crime, every victim, every credit earned from misery."

For the first time, genuine fear flickered in his compound eyes. "That's impossible. My systems use military-grade encryption?—"

"I'm a navigator," I said, finding strength in the simple truth. "I understand systems. And I've had eighteen years to study yours specifically."

"You're bluffing. Even if you could access my files?—"

"Transmission complete," I announced as the data pad's screen flashed green. "Broadcasting to every rival criminal organization in the sector. Your client list is now public record. Your security protocols are compromised. Your financial networks are exposed."

The command center erupted in chaos. But Kelloch's attention remained fixed on me, his six eyes blazing with fury.

"You stupid, short-sighted creature," he hissed. "Do you have any comprehension of what you've unleashed? My clients will hunt you across star systems to protect their secrets. My competitors will tear you apart for the intelligence advantage."

"Let them try." I smiled, feeling something cold and satisfied settle in my chest. "I've been hunted before. But you? You'll be dead long before they find me. Your own clients will kill you for the security breach. Your enemies will use the intelligence to destroy your operations piece by piece."

The tactical displays that still worked were already showing the effects. Communication networks lighting up as the transmitted data spread through criminal channels. Financial systems registering massive transaction spikes as clients moved to protect their assets.

"By morning," I continued, watching his empire burn in real-time on his own screens, "your organization will be history."

"You've destroyed everything!" he roared, lurching upright from his throne.

"Good." The word came out flat, final. "Now you know how it feels."

Kelloch stared at me for a long moment, rage and disbelief warring in his features. Then calculation replaced fury.

"But you're here," he said slowly. "In my command center, surrounded by my people, with no escape route. Clever girl. But ultimately self-destructive."

He gestured, and his remaining guards moved to surround me. "Your data transmission may have damaged my organization, but it won't save your life. I think an extended processing session is in order."

I backed toward the exit, but armed figures blocked every route. The command center had become a trap, and I'd walked into it willingly.

"Nothing to say?" Kelloch moved closer. "No final words?"

"Just one thing." I met his compound eyes without flinching. "You made one mistake eighteen years ago."

"Oh? And what was that?"

"You should have killed me when you had the chance."

I spun and jammed the tip of my shock rod into the emergency fire-suppression panel on the wall. The system overloaded with a shriek of tortured electronics, and thick, choking clouds of suppressant gas erupted from the ceiling vents, plunging the room into chaos.

In the confusion, I made my move. Not toward the exits, but toward Kelloch himself. The shock rod found his thorax. He convulsed, mandibles clicking frantically.

But he was tougher than I'd anticipated. He lashed out with one chitinous appendage, catching me across the ribs with bone-crushing force. I flew backward, slamming into a bank of monitors that erupted in broken glass.

Pain lanced through my side. I tasted blood.

Kelloch advanced through the smoke, rage giving him strength. "Eighteen years I could have been hunting you," he snarled. "Eighteen years of lost profit. But we'll make up for it now."

I rolled aside as his bulk crashed down where I'd been lying. My shock rod was gone, lost somewhere in the debris.

But I still had one weapon left.

The command console's emergency controls were within reach.

My hand found the interface. I didn't trigger the data purge; that damage was already done.

Instead, I activated the command center's internal audio and visual recorders and patched them directly into the public broadcast channels I'd already opened.

"Smile for the cameras, Kelloch. The whole sector is watching. "

His compound eyes widened in horror. On the main viewscreen, his own enraged, spittle-flecked face stared back at him—a live feed broadcasting his loss of control to every rival and associate.

"You—" he sputtered, his composure finally shattering. "You'll pay for this humiliation! I'll flay you alive!"

His threats devolved into a stream of incoherent rage, all of it captured and sent out across the stars. He was no longer a feared crime lord; he was a spectacle.

Kelloch lurched toward me, his mandibles clicking with a fury that was no longer calculated. But before he could reach me, the command center doors burst open.

"Tamsin!"

Talon charged through the smoke, a blur of cobalt traceries and controlled violence. Kelloch spun to face this new threat, but he was too slow, his movements clumsy with rage. Talon's blade found the gap between chitinous plates, sliding deep into his flesh.

The Zhyxian's scream cut off abruptly as he collapsed, ichor spreading across the polished deck plating.

"Are you hurt?" Talon's hands moved over me, checking for injuries.

"Bruised, but intact." I struggled to my feet, accepting his steadying grip. "His network is compromised. And his reputation is... shredded."

"And Kelloch?"

I looked down at the massive corpse. "Won't be troubling anyone again."

"Good." Talon's voice carried grim satisfaction. "The Regalia is secure. Time to leave."

As we ran toward our ship, toward escape and whatever future waited among the stars, I felt something I'd forgotten existed. Not just justice served or vengeance satisfied, but the simple possibility of tomorrow being better than yesterday.

For the first time since I was seven years old, that felt like enough.