Page 19 of Chieftain (The Outlander Book Club… in Space! #1)

Emmy

I would have screamed, but that would have necessitated taking a deep breath, something neither my body nor psyche needed.

The bear before us wasn't the creature I'd bumped into at the tavern. This was a smaller version, but even so, he was massive, the width of his shoulders taking up most of the narrow alley. The air cleared. Not even the fog wanted to wait around for what came next.

“Leave the human Vaktaire, and you will live.” The series of low growls translated into my brain.

Khaion stepped fully in front of me, shedding his cloak.

His back and shoulder muscles bunched and rippled under the tight black vest. The Kerzak might be thick sinew and bulk, but Khaion was built for battle, his body sculpted and honed through years of training.

The simple flex of his arm as Khaion reached for his blades was a movement that was as beautiful as it was deadly.

The Vaktaire tilted his head, bringing his face closer to mine, although his gaze never left the Kerzak.

“If I am injured, find the mother. She will help you hide until Charick arrives."

“Don’t get injured,” I hissed, not wanting to accept even the hint it could happen.

The Kerzak roared the sound a weapon in and of itself. It reminded me of the ear-splitting cry of the T-rex in one of those Jurassic Park movies and made my eardrums rattle painfully.

“Run, hide,” Khaion hissed at me.

The grizzly-alien launched himself, and I suddenly found myself on my butt, looking upward at the clash of alien and metal.

The Kerzak attack was the most violent thing I'd ever seen—and I'm no stranger to violence.

As a district attorney, even in my small town, I watched more videos of assault and murder than I cared to remember.

I'd also been a victim of violence—criminals who took a last stand before succumbing to our justice system—one such incident devolving into a hostage situation lasting for a terse forty-eight hours.

The Kerzak fought wildly, roaring as he struck out with blade and claw. The creature was wild, relying on brute strength in battle. Khaion was no slouch. While the Kerzak bested him in size and brute strength, I’ve never seen anyone move as purposefully and swiftly as Khaion.

Since my ex was a professor at the University of Georgia, sporting events tickets were easy to come by. Over the last thirty years, I've witnessed astounding feats performed by some of the world's greatest athletes.

Khaion put them all to shame.

He was otherworldly.

Watching Khaion face off against the Kerzak was like watching a brutal ballet, his every movement perfectly choreographed for maximum outcome. Watching Khaion fight was beautiful. Knowing he fought to protect me—there were no words, only a fluttering warm settling around my heart.

Below us, machinery thrummed and gurgled.

The clash of blade on blade was a clang of thunder punctuated by angry roars.

The sound melded together, creating a symphony that perfectly accompanied the violence.

From down the alley, a faint sound, like the thud of heavy feet, as the mist seemed to swirl and give way in beckoning.

Of course, the other Kerzak would hear the sound of battle.

Hell, people on the top level of the space station probably heard it.

Khaion fought one creature evenly matched—he said he could handle three.

I didn’t want to test his theory. As perfect a warrior as Khaion appeared, even he had his limits.

If the others reached us before we could escape, Khaion would die, and the Kerzak would find me.

The thought of Khaion lying dead at my feet was much more upsetting than the idea of myself roasted on a spit.

I couldn’t let it happen.

The Kerzak was a walking, talking grizzly bear, but people stood against grizzlies before and survived. Only a few, but some. I didn’t need to defeat the Kerzak. I just needed to give Khaion an edge by distracting the beast somehow.

My gaze darted around the alley for anything I could use as a weapon.

The last door we exited was camouflaged by a pile of metal scraps.

I crawled back to the area, nails breaking and cuticles ripping as I tore through the debris.

Most of the crap looked like computer parts I might use as projectiles, but my throwing arm was shit.

The Kerzak wouldn't feel anything I threw at him.

I dug deeper, hands and arms coated in grease and dirt, until my fingertips closed around something long and cylindrical.

The pipe was about four feet long, just another piece of scrap, except one end appeared like something exploded from within, leaving around six inches flayed open into wickedly sharp edges, sharp enough to cause a thin line of blood on my palm when I touched it.

Now I just needed to get close enough to do some damage. I couldn't rush the beast, it would befoul Khaion's attack, and I really didn't want to put myself within reach of those razor-sharp claws.

I needed to get behind the Kerzak—which was far easier said than done. Pressing against the wall, I tried to slide past the battling males, but the grizzly was no dummy. The massive body turned toward me like I was the sun, and he was a giant, ugly, hairy sunflower.

My muscles tensed with fear. This was an idiotic idea.

While Khaion's blade drew blood on the Kerzak's arms and chest, I doubted my strength was enough for the pole to do any physical damage. Sure, I distracted the beast, but I also distracted Khaion. His golden eyes went wide when he spotted me, and with a roar of anger, he struck out at the Kerzak with a broad stroke of his sword, trying to turn the beast’s attention.

The grizzly-alien was waiting, noticing the split in Khaion's concentration and using it to his advantage.

The deep grunt of pain changed everything.

The mists were unrelenting, swirling around to taunt and impede when Khaion dropped to one knee. The Kerzak loomed over him, snarling with smug viciousness, intent on victory.

The fear that held me frozen disappeared, replaced by something primal and wild. Something determined that the Kerzak would not hurt Khaion further. I wouldn't allow it.

"Tulloch Ard!" The war cry of the Mackenzie clan from the Outlander books.

I thought Willa sounded silly when she yelled it before attacking the Trogvyk.

Now I understand. When the words escaped my lips in a growling roar, something shifted inside me.

I felt strong and fearless. I felt like a warrior.

I leaped at the Kerzak, the pole held before me like a sword. The flayed tip hit the middle of his back at the spot where a human's kidney lay. The contact with his thick hide reverberated down the metal and into my hands with a painful jolt.

"Tulloch Ard!" I screamed again, thighs burning as I forced the sharp metal point through fur and flesh.

The Kerzak wheeled on me, slinging aside the pole with a swipe of his massive paw. The other enormous paw swung at me with enough force to cave my skull if I hadn't jerked backward, falling painfully on my butt.

Blood poured from the wound on its back, but the Kerzak didn't seem much affected.

The creature dropped to all fours—there was definitely some grizzly bear in his DNA—turning his head to gauge the wound for a moment before the black eyes settled on me, thick saliva dripping from his fangs.

Shit! It was a grizzly, and I just pissed it off.

I scrabbled backward, trying vainly to catch a glimpse of Khaion past the bulky fur body.

How badly was he injured? Dear God, please let him be okay.

The Kerzak was on me, bellowing a roar that drowned me with rancid breath and spittle. One paw lifted, black claws glistening in what little light dared to invade the din.

Khaion , my heart whispered.

The claws never made it to my skin.

The Kerzak's roar faded to a series of creaks and gurgles, and I shut my eyes against the dark, hot blood spraying outward in an arc, droplets hitting my hair and skin. The beast's eyes widened with shock while the mouth and snout moved convulsively before the massive body shuddered and collapsed.

He stepped through the fog like Superman appearing from the clouds.

“Khaion!”

I was jerked to my feet and crushed against his chest. He smelled of blood, gore, and a nasty wet dog scent that must have been Kerzak, but I didn't care.

I didn't care about anything other than that he was alive, and we were together.

Winding my arms around his waist, I began to sniffle, despite feeling like a complete badass for stabbing the grizzly.

“I told you to hide,” Khaion murmured, warm breath puffing on the curve of my neck as he spoke.

“I didn’t listen,” I laid my head on his chest, pressing my cheek over the reassuring thud of his heart.

“I noticed.” There was wry amusement in his tone.

“I heard you… I thought you got hurt. I wanted to help.”

Khaion lifted his head from my neck and laid his forehead against mine. My breath caught from the intimate gesture and how it set my nether regions ablaze.

“I am fine. You did good mi valaniesta. ”

“What does that mean?” My translator thingie didn’t attempt to alter the word.

"It means my little warrior ," Khaion lifted his head slightly, the golden eyes capturing mine.

We stared at each other for seconds that could have been hours, the air thick and hot and throbbing with something that might have been the echo of heartbeats.

It might have been romantic had we not been covered in grizzly goo.

Even so, the moment felt magical, as though a part of Khaion's soul living behind the glimmer of his golden eyes invaded my spirit, finding a space for himself and settling. I felt oddly completed.

Khaion opened his mouth, eyes narrowing so whatever he was about to say held importance, but I would never know. The next second he hefted me over his shoulder and sprinted back down the alley. The motion aggravated my roiling stomach, and I raised my head, fighting off the sickness.

A flicker of purple caught the corner of my eye.

Like everything else, there was crap piled in front to suggest the door was unused.

Dropped suddenly to my feet, I swayed dizzily but briefly before Khaion's hand closed over my wrist, yanking me into a small dark alcove.

The thick metal door pulled silently closed in my wake.

Khaion knelt, pulling me to rest upon a taut thigh.

The only communication between us was the universal signal for quiet.

The thud of footsteps trod by, accompanied by low growls of at least a half dozen beastly voices. Accompanying the shiver that raced down my spine was the realization that a pack of Kerzak stood right outside the purple door. My eyes widened at Khaion.

Oh, crap, will they smell me?

His finger trailed along my cheek and was warm and soothing. When the touch pulled away, Khaion held his hand close so I could see the smear of dark green blood on his fingertip. His expression was easily translatable.

No, they won’t be able to scent past the blood of the Kerzak on you.

The trembling began, more out of relief than fear. Khaion felt it. Of course, he did. I was sitting in his lap. Thick muscular arms came around my shoulders, leaning me sturdily against him. Despite the pack of wild grizzly aliens a few feet away, I felt protected. I felt safe.

I felt right.

We could have stayed there for minutes, hours, or eons.

It didn't matter. I was exactly where I was supposed to be, wrapped in Khaion's arms. It didn't make sense.

He was an alien warrior—I was human, but being in his arms felt more perfect than anytime Rick or any other man held me. I let myself wallow in contentment.

When Khaion finally moved, a huffed breath of disappointment escaped my lips. The Kerzak had long moved away, and I heard nothing save the rumble of machinery and faint squeaks of some kind of space rat.

Khaion lifted me, like Rhett Butler toting Scarlett O'Hara up the staircase. We descended with Khaion leaping from landing to landing without bothering with the stairs. When we came to the final doorway, Khaion sat me down, reluctant in his movement.

This door was easier to open. Khaion stepped through, his head swinging right, then left, gauging the danger. Satisfied, he pulled me to his side.

The grind of machinery was so loud it made my eardrums rattle, but the air was clearer and, despite a lingering hint of motor oil, didn't smell too bad.

Wrapping my fingers tightly in his grip, Khaion headed right, weaving between machinery and debris. Every so often, he would glance back over his shoulder, jaw tightening at whatever he saw, but he never increased the speed of our steps.

The door was glaringly conspicuous. Faded chipped red paint revealed black metal underneath, and the door's inner panel held a series of dials and levers.

With a final glance over his shoulder, Khaion began fiddling with the dials, moving them in some kind of combination.

Faint squeaks and hums answered his touch and the door popped open with a groan.

“We’re here.” Khaion pushed the door open, laying a hand on the flat of my back to usher me forward.

The brisk air felt clean to my lungs. Anything was better than the smoky passageways with the stench of Kerzak. I took a deep refreshing breath and stepped through, my feet stuttering to a stop as the surroundings came into focus.

“Holy shit!”