Page 23 of Alien Mercenary’s Wife (Lathar Mercenaries: Warborne #7)

R eese pressed her fingertips to her lips, T'Raal's kiss still burning on her lips hours later.

For the first time in months, maybe years, she'd slept through the night without nightmares.

No screaming awake in cold sweats, no phantom combat sounds, no reliving her squad's deaths over and over until dawn.

Just the solid warmth of T'Raal's arms around her, his heartbeat beneath her cheek, his breathing somehow telling her body it was safe to rest. When she'd woken this morning, the indent in the mattress beside her was still warm.

He'd already slipped away, but not long ago…

she could still catch his scent on the pillow.

He'd stayed all night, holding her instead of going back to his quarters. She'd forgotten what peace felt like.

The neural stimulator hummed against her spine as she made her way through the galley, searching for Eris.

Her left leg worked better than it had in weeks.

Tal had worked miracles, but it was more than that.

The knot of tension between her shoulder blades had loosened, and her hands weren't shaking anymore.

It was utterly fucking liberating.

She found Eris at one of the bolted-down tables, nursing a cup of coffee and reviewing something on a dataflex. The former pilot looked up and smiled as Reese approached.

"Sleep well?" Eris asked.

Heat crawled up Reese's neck. No way she knows about last night... "I need to contact the other veterans. Check on the lawsuit status."

"Same old captain, right down to business." Eris grinned as she set down her coffee. "Come on, I'll show you where the comm room is. Fair warning—alien tech takes some getting used to."

They made their way through corridors with dark metal walls and mesh flooring showing pipework and ducting underneath. It'd feel claustrophobic if not for the size of the passages, built for T'Raal and other huge non-humans.

As they rounded a corner, they passed a man almost as big as T'Raal in combat pants, heavy boots, and a sleeveless vest. Rippling scales covered his muscled arms, and he had glasses perched on his head as he read from a dataflex. He grunted as they passed.

"Isn't that...?" Reese began.

"My brother, yeah," Eris replied.

Reese half-turned, but he'd already disappeared. "He wasn't..." There was no way that man was human, so how could he be Eris's brother?

She turned to find Eris grinning. "Eric likes playing with DNA, especially his own. He's half lizard now."

They made their way through corridors that felt familiar now, past crew quarters and maintenance areas Reese was beginning to recognize.

"Down here," Eris said, leading her past what looked like control panels and machinery. "Tucked behind the engine area."

The communication room was cramped, barely big enough for the display panels and two chairs. The place smelled of metal and ozone, with alien duct tape covering splits in the chair arms. Eris left the door open, and Reese was glad for the extra space the corridor provided.

Reese snorted and pointed. "Some things are universal, huh?"

Eris snorted. “Yeah, same old, same old. Tape’s probably made in the same place as well.”

"This looks complicated," Reese said, studying the alien interface with its shifting symbols and controls she didn't recognize.

Eris settled into one of the chairs and activated the system. Symbols flickered across the holographic display. She looked up. "Do you have your contact codes?"

"Hughes first. He was my comms specialist." Reese nodded, reciting the memorized sequences.

The connection established with a soft chime. Hughes's face materialized on the screen, and relief flooded through Reese. He looked older than his years, but he was still breathing, and that was all that mattered.

"Captain?" Hughes's voice cracked, his eyes wide and his jaw dropping. "Jesus Christ, we thought you were dead. The metro explosion?—"

"I'm alive," Reese said with a shrug. "Is this channel secure on your end?"

"Secure as I can make it." Hughes leaned closer to his screen. "Where the hell are you? We've been trying to reach you for days."

"Somewhere safe." Reese nodded to Eris, who initiated connections to the other survivors. "I've got help now."

Additional screens populated with familiar faces. Ryans appeared first, followed by Williams, who was hunched in what looked like a makeshift bed.

"No fucking way," Ryans breathed when he saw her. "Captain? You're alive?"

"We heard about the metro bombing," Griffin added. "Thought they'd finally gotten you."

"Very much alive. And I found someone you might remember."

She gestured to Eris, who leaned into view of the cameras.

Silence stretched across the channels. Hughes's mouth fell open. Ryans stared like he was seeing a ghost. Griffin's eyebrows rose in shock.

"Holy shit," Williams whispered. "Tank? But you're—you're supposed to be dead."

"My death was greatly exaggerated," Eris said dryly.

The last screen finally activated, revealing Mason's face—ice-white hair, a jagged scar cutting across her left cheek. She leaned forward, frowning.

"Wait," Mason said. "Is that—Tank?"

Eris grinned. "Hey, Mason. Miss me?"

"Yeah." Mason shook her head. "But the reports said?—"

"Reports said I was a terrorist who got blown up by my own bombs," Eris finished dryly. "Funny how that works."

"They framed you," Hughes said. "Made it look like you'd gone rogue."

"Hard to testify when you're officially dead and labeled a terrorist," Eris winked.

"How'd you find her?" Mason asked, narrowing her eyes. "And where are you? That doesn't look like a human facility."

As Mason spoke, her gaze shifted past Reese's shoulder. Her words stopped, eyes widening as a tall, clearly non-human figure passed the open doorway. The others leaned closer to their screens.

"Holy shit," Griffin whispered.

Mason's eyes narrowed. "That video. The alien woman with the machine gun on the shuttle ramp. That was something to do with you, wasn't it?" She looked directly at Reese. "Are you with aliens?"

Eris's grin widened. "Some aliens, some humans, all badass."

"Holy hell," Ryans breathed. "You're serious. You're actually with the little green men."

Reese thought about T'Raal… his body against hers, his lips, his arms around her all night. "He's not green," she said. "And he's definitely not little."

"It's a long story," Eris said. "What matters is we're alive, we're protected, and we can help with the lawsuit."

"What lawsuit?" Mason's voice turned bitter, jaw clenching, scar whitening. "Lambert's dead. They got him two nights ago."

"How?" Reese managed.

"Stabbed three times in an alley behind his building," Mason said, voice rough with anger.

Reese blinked. Shit. Lambert had been scheduled to testify, and she'd arranged to meet him before the extraction. Relief hit her first… she'd been right to trust her gut. The meeting wouldn't have happened anyway. But then came the guilt and anger.

Another one dead. Another name on her list.

"Official report says he was robbed," Mason carried on.

"His wallet and comm unit were missing. But that's bullshit.

Lambert could barely walk fifty meters without his legs giving out.

What the hell was he doing wandering around alleys at night?

Man hadn't left his apartment after dark in months.

I broke into his place to get his files, but someone had already been there. Trashed everything."

"They're getting bolder," Hughes sighed, rubbing between his eyes. "Or more desperate. Lambert was scheduled to testify next week about the neural pathway degradation. Had documentation going back years."

"Documentation that's now conveniently missing," Mason said. "Along with his files, medical records, everything."

Reese felt cold settle in her stomach. "How many of us are left?"

"Seven," Mason said. "Including you two."

Seven. Down from fifty-three. Forty-six of them systematically eliminated, made to look like accidents or suicides.

"The lawyers?" Reese asked.

"Pulling out," Hughes said bitterly. "Citing security concerns and lack of surviving witnesses. They're saying that since you were the primary plaintiff and you're officially dead, there's no case left to pursue. They're recommending we accept the revised settlement offer."

"Which is?"

"Enough to cover basic medical expenses for six months," Ryans said, his hands trembling as he spoke. "No admission of wrongdoing. No recall of defective units still in service."

"That's not even enough for my meds for a month," Williams spat. "They killed our friends and now they're offering pocket change?"

"Fucking insulting," Griffin growled, slamming his fist against something off-screen. "Thompson died screaming from neural feedback. Rivera can't remember her name half the time. And they think we'll just walk away?"

"They're hoping we'll die before we can spend it all anyway," Hughes added bitterly.

"No justice for the forty-six who died fighting this," Mason added, fury sharpening her voice.

Reese looked around at the faces on the screens. These were her people… they were scared, sick, but they were still fighting.

"Fuck the settlement," she said. "We don't quit. We don't surrender. And we don't let them win."

"Easy to say when you got aliens to protect you," Hughes said, though his tone wasn't accusing. "The rest of us are still targets."

"Then we change the game," Eris said, leaning forward. "We stop playing defense and start hitting back."

"How?" Mason asked. "They've got unlimited resources, government backing, professional killers?—"

"And we've got the Warborne," Eris interrupted. "Who happen to be very good at impossible odds."

"You're serious," Griffin said slowly. "You're going to keep fighting this."

"Fuck yeah, we are. We're veterans," Reese reminded them. "We adapt and overcome. It's what we do."

"What's the play, Captain?" Griffin asked, straightening.