Page 12 of Entangled by the Alien Mercenary (Monster Mercenary Mates #4)
Tasseloris
My head throbbed, temples pounding, but I’d done it. The vine I’d grown was thin and reedy, barely long enough to reach over my shoulder. That didn’t matter—thin was exactly what I needed anyway—and it fit perfectly into the lock. Getting the magnetic cuffs off my wrists was the easy part. Now I had to make sure I could get out of here while avoiding notice. Once in the woods, I could forage what I needed to regain my strength and heal my wounds. After that, nothing would stop me from freeing Elyssa.
All that was left to do before I got out of here was find out where they were keeping her. Closing my eyes, I focused on one of the parts of my plantist abilities that had always come easily: my sense of the earth, of the plants around me, and of each beating heart. She was there—I knew it—I just had to find her. Vibrations traveled through the ground on which I lay, telling me exactly where my three guards were playing their game. The steps of the males who walked the edge of the Kanfira tree’s canopy were easy to hear too. I sensed the shrubs, the bushes, the thick grass that poked up between the Kanfira’s solid roots. I felt the heat of the campfire where it blazed and could count the males that sat around its warmth.
Somehow, though she should be no louder or brighter than the signatures of the others, it seemed that way. Elyssa’s rapid heartbeat pounded against the earth, warmth seeping from her skin where she lay. And then I heard the footsteps approaching her, and I feared for her, but I could not utter a single warning. When they yanked her from beneath the bush she’d hidden under, her voice was loud and high—scared. I hated that sound; my female should never have reason to be scared.
The commotion was distracting my guards, and though it felt wrong to move away when she was in danger, I took advantage. Rolling to my feet, I wrenched the cuffs from around my ankles with the help of my small but sturdy vine, and then I was slipping into the forest—unseen, unheard, and soon untraceable. I was too wounded to manage climbing a tree, so a winding path and some distance would have to do. My ears were tuned to Elyssa’s plight the entire time, my senses wide open to pick up every vibration in the ground, every change.
They had tied her back up at the campfire, but they had not harmed her yet. I was certain the same bastard who had tied her up last time had gotten his hands on her again—I could smell her blood in the air. For that, he would pay. I’d cut off his hands, see how he liked that. Nobody touched my female.
I passed a Haysher bush, but this time, I did not take the leaves to help with the pain; I could not afford to compromise any of my senses right now—not when I was beginning to believe that help was not coming. Somehow, my tracker had broken, the signal was jammed, or the Varakartoom was dealing with her own issues. I was betting on the latter. My shuttle had crashed, and the Viridara could be an obnoxious, bureaucratic lot. They were probably grounded and detained until the shuttle crash had been thoroughly investigated.
Picking up plants and other herbs I found useful along the way, I began patching myself up. More Virad berries were crushed into my wounds, but they would only hasten the healing so much. I needed to circle back and get hold of my med kit; even one of theirs would do. Sadly, my senses could not tell me where unmoving, inanimate objects were located. I’d have to rely on scouting with my eyes for those.
When a soft cooing sound came from my left, I realized another thing my plant-sense had failed to notice: the Entling. Somehow, her tread was so soft that she did not disturb the earth, and her connection with it was so tenuous that I could not sense her like I could the shrubs, the plants, or the trees. Relieved to see her, I smiled when she blinked at me and opened her pink flower crown. “Nelly, sweet one, did you find Elyssa? She’s in trouble—we need to help her.”
The Entling gave me a look that could only be described as stern, and then her gleaming eyes vanished as she turned. With a huffing, groaning noise, she began pulling something from between the purple-spotted ferns that covered the ground here. I began to lower myself to one knee with effort, my wounded left leg fiercely protesting against the motion. To my astonishment, Nelly was hauling my entire medical kit out of the bushes. The thing was as large as she was and probably twice as heavy, but she had somehow managed to pull it all the way from the camp to here. Either I’d covered a shockingly small amount of ground, or she was much stronger than she looked.
Thanking her for a job well done, I quickly gave myself one of Dravion’s cocktails to boost my system. It was the last one in the kit—I’d already used one and given Elyssa the other. Taking care of my injuries and replenishing my resources took precious time, and I got antsy the longer I remained in one place. Nelly was roaming nearby, keeping watch for any followers with her clever emerald eyes.
From the shouting that was going on at the camp, I knew they’d discovered my absence. There was even the telltale fizzle of laser fire and I wondered if one of the guards had paid the ultimate price for failing at his job. I had recognized the Kertinal male that had taken charge; De’tor was one of Jalima’s favorite enforcers. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’d done such a thing. I just hoped he wouldn’t take it out on my mate, who had nothing to do with my escape. Although she had probably helped Nelly get her fingers on my med kit.
“This is probably the best it’s going to get.” I still felt like a mess, and Ysa, the Varakartoom’s head engineer, was going to be pissed at how broken my armor was. She’d custom-made the back panel for me to accommodate the vines or sails when I grew them, and she’d likely have to redo the entire job and trash this suit when I returned. Running my hands through my hair, I took stock of what I did have available to me right now. No weapons except a pair of small, hidden throwing knives and a garrote. I’d have to fight with my fists and my plantist abilities, using them in ways I’d never been able to before. I’d always admired Master Eryngium’s ability to draw not just on growing vines and sails, but on making the environment work for him. I had to make the forest move; it was the only way.
My leg did not protest when I began a circuitous journey back to the campfire, where they were holding Elyssa. When I began to hear their voices, I slowed down, urged Nelly to hide, and searched for the most likely spot to begin my assault. They wouldn’t know what hit them.
I sank to my knees in a soft, loamy spot, bent forward, and dug my hands deep into the earth. “Move,” I whispered, then closed my eyes and unfurled the powers in my head. They came effortlessly this time, as if it had never been a problem for me to reach them in the first place—like they had always been there, waiting for me to do exactly this. I grinned—a fierce, murderous kind of grin. Oh yeah, it was time to make them pay.
***
Elyssa
I didn’t like the look of things, not at all. I thought they were getting ready to camp down for the night before they walked us back to Bloom. Maybe Tahirel had convinced his boss to follow up on my lie about the data, and they would let me delay and mislead them further into the jungle. That would give Tass a chance to rescue me, sick and tired though he probably was of having to do so. But no, De’tor was communicating with someone else, and it sounded an awful lot like he was arranging transportation.
At least Tass had gotten away, and De’tor’s reinforcements were frantically searching the forest around us. One of them was supposedly an expert tracker, but the Rummicaron male seemed utterly stumped. That would have been funny at any other time; a discombobulated Rummicaron was an odd sight indeed. They did not express emotions—and if they did, it was anger sooner than anything else. This male was very flustered and possibly scared of his boss’s reaction to his failure. I smirked because I knew nobody would be able to find my mercenary if he didn’t want them to, injured or not. The male did not even leave footsteps in soft, muddy ground.
“What are you gloating about, bitch?” Tahirel demanded, his hand pinching my upper arm to grab my attention. He had it instantly, fear coating the back of my tongue with a bitter taste. De’tor was mean, and he liked to control his men with brute force, but he did everything for a reason—at least, that’s the impression I was getting. One that matched what little I knew of him through my brother. Tahirel, however, seemed to take great delight in hurting me every chance he got; there didn’t even need to be a reason.
Curling my lip, I channeled some of my brother’s haughtiness as I said, “You’ll never find him.” Sometime during our kiss and the deep, dark stretch of this wet, foggy night, I’d solidly come to believe that Tass was on my side. Maybe that was a survival mechanism at play, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was true—that he was stronger than all these men combined out here, where he had the home advantage. I also believed that if not for my stupid mistake, he might have won that first fight, and we wouldn’t even be in this mess.
Tahirel didn’t like that show of defiance; he was a lame-ass bully that way. Honestly, living with my brother for most of my life had fully prepared me to deal with a guy like him. I was sick of it, so I did the very thing that always drove Elpherian up a wall: I crossed my eyes. It was a juvenile, silly thing to do, but it was an action he couldn’t control, and it showed my disrespect. It worked exactly as I expected—he hissed, and his hand shot up as if he meant to slap me.
At the last moment, he reined in the motion, his shoulders stiff as a board. De’tor’s purple-streaked tail, tipped with a gleaming silver knife, swung between us. I jerked back, surprised at the male’s silent approach. He towered over me—and over Tahirel as well—as we sat on the log near the fire. My captor and bully instantly rose to his feet and pulled me up with him. “What is it, sir?” he asked, the obedient, polite tone he reserved for his master probably sticking painfully in his throat.
“I want to have a talk with our prisoner. Leave,” De’tor said. It surprised me—that order, for what appeared to be the Kertinal’s second-in-command. Tahirel had been at my side ever since my escape attempt, and before that, he’d been glued to the side of his master. The Elrohirian male opened his mouth as if he wanted to question the command but snapped it shut almost immediately after. With a nod and a final, rough squeeze of my arm, he stalked away.
That left me alone with the big, bad Kertinal boss, who, in turn, was now rumored to be Jalima’s right-hand man—the position once held by my brother. I could see in De’tor’s expression that he was well aware of who I was. We had met, though not formally, and I was certain he knew more about me than I did about him. He gestured with a hand at the log, politely urging me to sit back down. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of that, but disobeying didn’t seem like the wisest choice.
Once I was sitting, he braced himself in front of me in a very military-straight position. He had his hands clasped loosely behind his back, boots hip-distance apart, and knees locked. Even his tail was perfectly calm as it hung behind him, not betraying so much as a hint of what he might be feeling or thinking. When I saw the male like that, I was reminded of the military draft the Kertinal Empire upheld. Each male or female was required to serve a minimum of five years in their vast and powerful army. There was no doubt that De’tor had picked up this pose there.
“Tell me where the data is, Elyssa,” the male said firmly, his bass voice layering in the deep sub-harmonics so typical of Kertinal voices. I knew he’d ask me that, but bluffing to this male seemed a far scarier proposition than lying to Tahirel had been. Tahirel was the type of male I knew well, but this De’tor—he was something new. “Out of respect for your late brother, I am still willing to spare your life. You understand that? Give me the data now, and I will let you walk.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, purple lines on his skin glowing with a sickly hue, his eyes gleaming brightly. They reflected orange from the fire at me, and it felt like I might be staring into the portals of the underworld, where Vamor’s reign over life and death began. De’tor might as well be Vamor; he held my life in his hands. What I said now would see him make the choice—tip the scales to life or death.
I believed him, though. If I gave that data they were after to him right this instant, he truly would let me go. I posed no threat to Jalima or anyone else without it. It was a one-time offer—of that, I was certain. Deny him now, and I would never hear of it again. Mouth dry, I said the same thing I’d said to Tahirel and to Tass—much to my regret. “I don’t have it on me.” I raised my bound wrists toward him and made sure he heard all the fear that trembled through my body. “I’d give it to you right now, but I don’t have it! I hid it. I can take you to it, though. If you let me go, if you let that mercenary go, I’ll take you to it. You can have the damn info. I don’t care about it!”
He curled his lip, exposing a sharp set of canine teeth. I could see in the glitter of his eyes that he didn’t trust me, and I feared that meant he wouldn’t believe me. I held my breath as I waited for his answer, biting my tongue to keep myself from piling more words onto that lie. I would only give myself away if I did that; less was more. Eventually, he nodded curtly. “Shortly, a transport will come to pick us up. You will direct it to this location, and then we will be done with this matter. Double-cross me, and you and that mercenary will die. Got it?”
I nodded, fighting to keep the despair that washed over me from showing on my face. A transport? That was terrible news. Once aboard a vehicle, we could be anywhere far too quickly—the jig would be up in moments, and Tass would not be able to rescue me. A transport would see him left behind, unable to find me or track me.
It was as if the world tilted around me as it all sank in. This was it—I had failed to delay them in a meaningful way. At least Tass had escaped, and I would have to take solace in the knowledge that I hadn’t dragged anyone else down with me. I trembled, my teeth rattling together, and I blinked furiously as my vision went a little wonky. Everything seemed to seesaw around me. No, it didn’t just seem that way—it really was happening. I blinked again, fighting to understand what I was seeing.
De’tor stumbled in front of me, his tail lashing to help him keep balance on the wildly bucking ground. Males were shouting in panic, raising pistols, and firing into the dark without knowing what they were aiming for. The massive umbrella tree we were beneath was bucking and swaying its branches, letting in sheets of rain in large spots. Roots were also sprouting along the ground—snatching, grabbing, curling, and twisting. They tripped people, captured legs, and squeezed until they screamed.
Somehow, it was like I sat on a rocky little island in all that chaos, my log trembling but otherwise unscathed. That was what finally made me realize this wasn’t an earthquake. This wasn’t random. This was Tass. I began craning my head left and right to search for him, twisting my body to better balance on the log, straddling it and clutching it with my knees. De’tor had noticed my calm, and he was fighting his way back to my side over the bucking ground. He did not panic like some of the others but fired his pistol in a precise and calm manner or sliced with a large knife or his tail.
“What is this!?” he roared at me, aiming to grab my arm when he got close enough. The ground bucked beneath his feet, sending him tumbling back, and I offered him a grin that matched the elation I felt inside. There were no answers; he probably already knew anyway—he’d seen the way Tass fought before. The truth was, I didn’t know how Tass was doing this.
“Surrender, and you might be spared,” I said to him. I flicked my hair over my shoulder with a jerk of my chin. “That’s basically the same deal you offered me, isn’t it? Leave now, and you might live.” A bloodcurdling scream punctuated my words with perfect timing as a male got caught in the twisting, rising roots and was squeezed. De’tor looked—I didn’t—and his expression grew tight, his eyes wide and fearful.
He raised his gun at me then, as if he thought that, like before, threatening me would see Tass surrender. He didn’t count on a vine hurling through the air and punching it right out of his fist. It was the first sign of my mercenary showing up in person, and a sudden quietness fell beneath the tree then. He launched himself after his whip-fast vine from beneath the trees behind me. All this time, he must have been close, and yet I hadn’t seen him.
De’tor and he traded punches and blows, but they were the only ones making noise now. The roots were raised and messy beneath the tree, some males still caught in their tight grasp. There were victims of Tass’s assault everywhere, but not nearly as many bodies as I knew there had been males; some had fled into the woods. The result was the same: De’tor was on his own, and he wasn’t doing so well in this fight.
Tass was a glorious sight, fighting like a demon possessed him. His hair rose around his head in a wild mane, Iredese glowing bright gold along his temples, and his damaged, torn armor only made him seem more dangerous. I was so focused on how he was forcing De’tor to back across the clearing that it took Nelly several moments to get my attention. The little plant girl had climbed onto the log with me, and once she knew I’d seen her, she began to work her magic on the tight bindings around my wrists.
As soon as I was free, I gathered her into my arms and urged her onto my shoulder. Then I ducked for the bush where I knew Tass’s backpack still lay. It was so big and heavy that I knew I would have a hard time carrying it, but I made a valiant effort to swing it onto my back. We’d need every bit of those supplies if we had to trek through the woods back to Bloom. We were days deep into the jungle by now.
De’tor was backed against the tree, his tail—the one with the sharp blade at the tip—the only thing keeping Tass from striking a fatal blow. Tass had only his fists and a single thick vine sprouting from his left shoulder, but it was more than enough. I didn’t know if I wanted him to kill the bastard or just knock him out. I didn’t like being bloodthirsty, but it would be safer if Tass killed him.
The roaring of an engine made my mercenary freeze just as he was about to punch De’tor in the face. A shuttle was forcing a landing straight through the canopy of the poor umbrella tree, branches and twigs breaking and creaking, then raining down all around us. One landed so close to me that I had to dive aside with a scream. Nelly rolled from my shoulder, and the backpack landed heavily on top of me. I must have screamed, because the next thing I knew, Tass was hauling me to my feet. Then I was in his arms, and he was racing into the forest. I did not know if that meant De’tor was dead, and I didn’t ask.
“The tracker, Tass—we have to find it and remove it.”