Page 1 of Entangled by the Alien Mercenary (Monster Mercenary Mates #4)

Tasseloris

My skin prickled between my shoulder blades, my hair lifting around my head with unease. Along my temples, my Iredese flared with color—a response to the sense of being threatened. Twisting my head slowly, I fought to get the instinctive reaction under control. This was why the crew kept treating me like the newbie, wet behind the ears. It didn’t help that I was literally green—that just made the jokes worse—but I was determined to earn their respect.

I knew what I’d see before I’d fully completed my turn: Solear. The Asrai male had silently entered my bunkroom and was staring at me from the open doorway, an intense look in his glowing red eyes. His face was marked with the typical Asrai deathmask, making it seem as if I were staring into the eyes of death himself—a skull glaring at me with a macabre grin and sharpened teeth, ready to shred and rend. As a Viridara male, my instincts resembled those of prey rather than predator, and it was hard to shrug off the urge to flee at the sight of Solear, who was definitely all predator.

“What do you want?” I made myself say, injecting false cheer into my tone. Nobody ever knew what set off the Asrai male, and only Aramon, his twin, knew how to keep him in check. With Aramon away on his “honeymoon” with his new mate, Evie, there was no one here to keep Solear leashed. For some reason, the male kept singling me out, showing up wherever I went and just watching me. I was trying not to read anything into it, but it was hard not to believe that he was deciding how to kill me—or eat me.

Predictably, Solear did not answer my question. He never talked; I could not recall a single instance when he’d said even a single word. Normally, Aramon was his intermediary. The two shared a telepathic bond, so the talkative twin would know exactly what Solear wanted. I felt a little hint of sympathy when I considered how lonely the silent Asrai had to be now that his brother was having fun in the city without him. Not enough sympathy to try and make friends, though—Solear was much too intimidating for that.

“If you’re just going to hover and stare again, why don’t you make yourself useful? Help me finish packing.” I gestured at the supplies I had lined up on my cot and the backpack they were all supposed to fit into. As we were on Viridara Three—one of the dozen colonies terraformed by my people—this scouting mission fell to me. I’d already earned my place as an excellent scout among the crew, but this terrain made me even more suited for the mission. Unfortunately, I knew all too well the dangers a Viridara planet could bring, and I was afraid I was packing too much in an attempt to be prepared.

Solear stepped silently into the four-man bunk room, his shoulder brushing along the pair of bunks on the other side as he kept a careful distance between us. For the first time, I contemplated his behavior, not so much as that of a predator—it was something in his posture that made my brain tingle. My Iredese winked out, my hair shifted and flattened against my head, losing some of its volume. That shuffle along the cots to come around to my side—it was more like a skittish animal than a predator intending to charge… Had I misunderstood Solear all this time? Then he snarled, baring his teeth, and I winced. Nope, not a chance. He was ready to bite my head off.

Stepping back instinctively, my shoulder collided with the bunk, sending several of my carefully drawn maps fluttering from the wall to land on top of my supplies. Solear’s growl cut off, and his head shifted from me to look down at my handiwork. On thick parchment, I’d carefully inked maps of each of the locations where we’d had missions. A precise map of the woods of Yiophus was the biggest, but then, I’d spent a long time in the jungle by myself there.

My first impulse was to snatch the maps up and hide them, but Solear looked entranced. I held my breath as I waited, time impatiently ticking away inside my head. I needed to be at the hangar bay in five minutes; this was no time for dawdling. It felt like a moment that couldn’t be rushed—Solear was quieter than I’d seen him all week. His red eyes were locked on one of the smaller maps—one I’d made of the desert camp from which we’d retrieved his brother’s mate.

Compared to the other maps I’d made, this one was still only a simple sketch. It outlined where the tents had been situated and some landmarks that had surrounded the camp. It was not my best work, and I had drawn it more as a way to get the place out of my head than with the intention of keeping it around. My penmanship had been precise, but that was about all that could be said of the thing. I understood why it had meaning to Solear, though: after visiting that camp, his twin was no longer his alone. Aramon had brought his mate back, and what had once been two was now three, and Solear was the third wheel.

Despite the urgency of this mission, I rooted through my maps to locate the one I’d made of the retreat on Ov’Korad. Solear had not visited that place, but it was where his brother had courted Evie, his fake princess. I held out the piece of parchment to him, and he snatched it from my fingers with a hiss. “You can have them,” I said to him. “Both maps. If you want…” I was not sure of anything right now, but this was Solear acting at his strangest.

His red eyes were locked on my face as he rolled both pieces up and slid them through a loop on his belt. I wasn’t quite sure if it was a dare or if he was trying to say something to me. Since he could growl and snarl just fine, I’d always assumed he could talk, but what if he couldn’t? That was a novel idea—and it was proven wrong almost immediately afterward. He bared his teeth—a snarl, but not quite. His lips pulled back over his razor-sharp, filed-down teeth. “Thanks!” he hissed.

I was still staring at him, stunned, when he ducked his head and yanked my open bag toward him. What had just happened? And what in the blazing stars was he doing to my carefully ordered supplies? He tossed a few things out of my bag, tucking others into it with quick, efficient moves. I remembered that I’d told him to help if he was going to keep me company—was that what he was doing? In less than a minute, nearly everything that had been on my cot was tucked into the bulging backpack. And Solear even yanked something from one of his pockets and tucked it inside. I did not quite catch what it was, but I was going to make doubly sure I checked that when I got down to the planet.

With two minutes left to spare to get to the hangar bay, my pack was done, and Solear flung it against my chest with another rough growl. He stalked from the quarters I shared with three others, not a single backward glance or word said. Wasting one of my precious minutes, I stood staring after his retreating form, baffled by our interaction just now. What was that? Was—stars help me—Solear actually trying to make friends? Cupping my hand around my mouth, I raised my voice. “Thanks, man! I appreciate it.”

Spinning on my heel, I put on a burst of speed to race to the nearest elevator that could take me to the hangar bay. The Varakartoom had landed on Viridara Three, its spaceport right next to the largest city: Bloom. I had never been to Bloom, and I had no desire to see the city now. It would be an exact replica of any other major port on one of the colonies. The Viridara liked to build things that reminded them of home, while I tried to forget “home” as much as possible.

The hangar bay doors slid open smoothly for me as I approached, and I darted through them with only seconds to spare. The bright lines of color that decorated the interior walls of the ship blurred as I skidded to a stop. I did not really need the guides to find my way—my sense of direction was infallible—but many of my crewmates did.

When I located the shuttle assigned to me for this mission, my Iredese flared along my temples. Thatcher and the Sineater stood shoulder to shoulder—two dark figures in their armor, their heads bent close together as though they were whispering secrets, but their lips were not moving. Thatcher was human, and he had come to us badly injured—so badly that he had been under our doctors' care for months without waking. Having met three human women, I was pretty certain that there was nothing normal about the male.

The Sineater was just as much a mystery—and a dangerous one. He made all my instincts to flee rise to the surface, hence the response of my Iredese. This was not a good mood to start this mission in. First Solear, now these two here to put me on my toes. This was a simple scout-and-retrieval mission, wasn’t it? Locate our contact, bring them and their intel on Jalima back to the Varakartoom. Simple. Easy. Their presence made me feel like they either did not trust me to complete this mission or that I was about to learn it was far more dangerous than expected.

The writhing, silver creature that always accompanied Sin slunk from around the back of the shuttle. It had taken the form of a Fantreal horse, native to Sune. The elegant, cloven-hoofed creature flicked its tufted tail and twitched its four silky ears. Then, it opened its maw and bared razor-sharp teeth that definitely didn’t belong on an herbivore. I clutched the strap of my pack in my fist to keep myself from reaching for the laser pistol strapped to my thigh, my hair ruffling around my shoulders as it fluffed up to make me seem larger. I winced, hating that instinctive response. This was exactly why they still treated me like the newbie—though I’d been part of the Varakartoom’s core crew for almost two years now.

“Ah, young Tass, I see you’ve finally deigned to join us?” the Sineater drawled, straightening from his huddle with Thatcher. The human was the true newbie—he’d only been part of our crew for a year—but nobody treated him that way. The Sineater was the ship’s second-in-command, and he was not a male to be trifled with. I was pretty sure he came as close to indestructible as a being could get, thanks to that slinky, shape-shifting pet of his. They were an odd pairing to see together—unless you considered that the Sineater ate dark feelings, and Thatcher was a banquet of them. I did not want to consider that, so I forced myself to focus on the mission.

“I am exactly on time,” I told my superior officer with as much confidence as I could muster. My hair lifted around my head again, and I gritted my teeth, forcing it down with sheer willpower. I was not going to show either of them that I was a little nervous. This mission was supposed to be a two-person job, which probably meant Thatcher was going to accompany me. Oddly enough, at this moment, I almost preferred Solear.

The Sineater barked out a surprised laugh, the sound low and a little sinister as it trailed off. With it, I felt the tension leave my body, leaving me calm and settled inside my skin. Had he done that? Taken my nerves? I was never sure with him. “Easy, Tass. You’re not being reprimanded.” I was tempted to bare my teeth at him, though I did not have sharpened canines like the Sineater did. To at least half the crew, including the Sineater, baring one's teeth was a show of aggression. He managed to make that comment sound patronizing. It was frustrating to deal with a male who always spoke in riddles, always sounding like he meant the opposite of what he said.

Having had enough of it, I crossed my arms over my chest and nodded at the shuttle. “Who’s coming with me? It’s supposed to be the person who had contact with whoever we’re meeting down there. Is that you, Thatcher?” I sincerely doubted it. Not only was the human not native to the Zeta Quadrant, but he’d only been here a year and very much kept to himself. His people skills were probably about as bad as Solear’s—the only difference was that he was a vocally snide asshole while Solear just growled.

Case in point: He lifted his head to give me a dark glare and raised his hand to flick his middle finger my way. I knew that was a rude gesture, and my Iredese flared in response. Beneath my skin, an itch started that I struggled to suppress. I could not afford to lose control—not now. “I figured,” I said to Thatcher. “Because who in the blazing stars would know you, right?” That made him open his mouth, but the Sineater stepped in front of him, shutting him up before he could tear into me verbally. It was a bad idea to poke the beast, but I had had enough of all the posturing this morning.

“Enough. Tass, Thatcher, you’re going to have to put aside your differences and make this work.” The Sineater leveled me with a firm look, but I did not wilt, and this time my Iredese—and even my hair—remained unruffled. “Your original partner for this mission, Brace, backed out,” the Sineater explained, and this time he drawled it as if he were bored—ready to be done with this whole thing ten minutes ago. “So Thatcher is coming as backup.”

Backup? I didn’t need it, and he would just get in the way down on Viridara Six. I had accepted a partner before because he was the one with ties to this contact we were meeting. That made sense for the mission. But Thatcher? No way. “Absolutely not,” I snapped. Even a year ago, I would never have considered snapping at Sin or standing up to the orders I was handed. Viridara Six changed things; it brought out the worst in me, perhaps. “He’s got zero people skills, Sin. And he’ll just get in my way down there. I know this planet like the back of my hand. I don’t need backup for a simple retrieval.”

The Sineater stared at me with dark eyes, peering at me from his gaunt, gray face. Over his chest, silver tendrils writhed and flowed, curving along his armor, but nothing else moved. We stood there, staring at each other for a long minute, and I felt the time tick away inside my head. This was time-sensitive; we were wasting precious minutes with this confrontation. I was just about to say screw it all and stalk to the shuttle when Sin jerked his chin. That was all it took. Thatcher muttered a very vile word under his breath, then stalked from the hangar bay. I had won.

“Very well. You go alone,” Sineater said, crossing his arms over his chest. He stepped aside. He rattled off strident instructions on how often I had to check in while down on the planet, and I acknowledged those with a nod as I tucked my backpack away and strapped into the pilot’s seat. I was already halfway through the preflight checks when I felt him lean closer over my shoulder. That was all he did—lean, followed by a huff. He turned on his heel and stalked from the shuttle, silent as a wraith, his creepy, slinky pet following him.

Finally alone, I took a deep breath, and a smile pulled at my face. I did it. I had stood up to Sin and Thatcher and gotten my way. Now that was good luck for a mission! Certain that with such good fortune, nothing could go wrong, I cleared my exit with the crew on the bridge, and off I went, at last.