Page 29 of Fated to the Hunter (Xarc’n Warriors #13)
I twirled my pen, my eyes drifting from my screen over to the clock on the wall. I’d always loved my job, and I still did, but I also loved spending as much time as possible with my brave hunter.
Bael’k was still technically stationed out west in the Great Plains where they needed him the most. I could work anywhere I had access to the old Internet files, but I wasn’t about to give up my post in the New Franklin library just yet, so we’d agreed on a reverse weekend schedule.
I spent two days a week holding down the fort with Dottie, and five days out on the plains with Bael’k.
I found that I rather enjoyed helping him kill scourge, especially since I’d started taking drone flying lessons with Connie. Plus, I liked knowing that if anything happened, I’d be right there to call for help.
The new shuttle and I got along too, so that was nice. Though it did seem nervous around too many flyers, which I assumed was how it had lost its previous shuttle and hunter. I’d offered to lend an ear if it ever needed to talk about it, but it had yet to take me up on it.
The hard drives turned out to be real. Which meant that information-wise, we were completely caught up to the before times.
Moreso, I’d say, because we now also had access to Xarc’n technology and were slowly figuring out how everything worked.
The problem now was resources and manufacturing capabilities.
Also, just because we knew how to manufacture smartphones and supercomputers again didn’t mean we should. Not yet anyway.
We still had a long way to go before we’d be completely freed of the scourge, and until then, we had to put most of our efforts into fighting them.
Not to mention, the appearance of the scourge and the Xarc’n warriors didn’t mean we’d stopped fighting amongst ourselves.
We had people we had to worry about, like the New Earth Militia, who didn’t see a future for Earth with Xarc’n warriors in it.
But we’d deal with it as it came.
The front door to the library slid open, and I closed my laptop and stood, eager to greet my hunter; he was picking me up today. But when I stepped out from the back room, it wasn’t Bael’k who greeted me.
Instead, Dottie bustled in, a frown on her face. With a quick glance behind her, she hurried toward me and slipped into the room I’d just vacated. But instead of sitting at the long meeting table, she went to the front and ducked behind the podium.
“What’s going—”
She made a zip-it motion over her lips.
The library door opened again. This time, a big purple alien warrior stepped in. But it wasn’t Bael’k.
Why was Dottie hiding from Ror’k? The older warrior used to be the Overseer of the mothership that we’d lost. Since then, he’d transferred to the other one that was still in orbit.
He’d come down to Franklin for the market and had stayed since, helping out in the mothership building.
Used to spending their time in space, the hunters working in the grounded mothership rarely ventured out, but I’d been seeing more of them lately.
“Hi, Ror’k. What are you doing here?”
He didn’t answer.
“Well, everyone went home about an hour ago.” That was technically the truth. Dottie had left an hour ago. “Library’s actually closed. I’m just waiting for Bael’k to pick me up. Why don’t you come back tomorrow?”
He did that strange mouth breathing thing that the hunters sometimes did, and I knew that he was scenting the air. Of course, the air here would smell like Dottie. She spent most of her time here.
He frowned, then gave a quick nod before walking back out the door.
I went to lock it behind him before returning to the meeting room.
“Okay, Dottie. Spill the tea.”
“There’s nothing to spill,” she said, shoving her glasses higher on her face.
“Really? So should I go let Ror’k know you’re in here?”
“No!” she whisper-screamed.
“So talk.”
“Ugh! Fine. You know that extra-strong batch of booze that went out?”
“You mean the blackout batch?” So nicknamed because it got several people black-out drunk before they caught on and diluted it.
“I might’ve drunk too much of it at the knitting bee last week, and I might’ve totally stumbled into Ror’k on the way home.”
“And?” I motioned her to continue.
“I might’ve kissed him?”
“You what?” I gasped.
“Shhhh!” She looked around like she thought Ror’k might pop out from behind one of the shelves. “Might have. Because I actually don’t remember what happened. But Ror’k’s been showing up since.”
That explained why Dottie had been skipping her usual breaktime walk. She’d been avoiding a certain purple warrior.
“Well, have you talked to him?”
“No. He just stands there and watches me.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
There was a knock at the door, and this time it was Bael’k here to whisk me away in his silver shuttle.
My heart melted the moment I saw him with those golden eyes, broad, purple shoulders, and sweeping, majestic horns.
Instead of reminding me of a lost past, these features now made me all ooey and gooey inside.
“We’ll talk online,” I said, letting Dottie know that she wasn’t off the hook yet.
The moment we stepped into the shuttle, Bael’k was on me, his arms wrapping around me like he couldn’t bear another second apart.
“I missed you, Fire of my Heart,” he murmured, voice low and rough, vibrating against my skin as he buried his face in the curve of my neck.
I tilted my head, giving his horns room. I didn’t mind being called Wildfire, but Fire of my Heart was still my favorite endearment. The feeling of belonging wrapped around me, warm and familiar, and I melted into him.
“It’s only been two days,” I said with a soft laugh, brushing my fingers over the ridges of his horns.
“That is too long.”
His lips found mine, demanding as always.
And as my clothes fell to the shuttle floor, and his body covered mine possessively, the feeling of belonging wrapped around me, warm and familiar, and I melted into him.
I clung to him, overwhelmed both by pleasure and the undeniable knowledge that this warrior was my future.
I might not know what the future held, but I knew that for now and forever, we would face it together. Always.
THE END
Looking for my Xarc’n Warriors? Have you read the spin off series in the mountains? Here’s Chapter One from Hunter’s Quest to get you started!
I poked at the giant scuttler stuck in my trap, hoping it was exhausted enough not to fight back. The giant space bug sprang to life, crawling in place with its eight creepy legs and slashing at me with its toxin-edged front claws.
I backed away.
Damn! These creatures were ugly. For something that had evolved elsewhere in the galaxy, they sure reminded me a lot of mutant Earth bugs. They stank, too, like a dead rat soaked in rotten milk overnight and left out in the heat to ripen.
This particular make and model had the claws of a praying mantis, the head of an earwig, the body of an ant, and the legs of a spider.
It wasn’t small either. Scuttlers were about the size of an overgrown Rottweiler and were the smallest of all the insectoid space invaders that now crawled over our planet.
They were also the most common type. During the warm months, thousands of them poured out from the large nests they built under our cities and towns.
I was so glad I lived up here in the Rockies.
I had my shotgun on me, as I usually did when I left my cabin, but it would be wasteful to use my dwindling shells on a trapped bug.
Not to mention, the sound would draw more into the area.
There were flying bugs too, but they hunted by sight, and I was well hidden under the trees.
Even though most of the leaves had already fallen, the evergreens still blocked their view. However, a gunshot would alert them.
I unstrapped my axe instead. It was a utilitarian tool and didn’t give me a good range. If I could get close enough to hit the bug with my axe, then it could also nick me with its claws. Just the tiniest of nicks was enough to paralyze a limb for life.
Bug toxin was no joke.
The hideous creature hissed at me and struggled in my trap. I had to kill it quickly before the cord broke. It wasn’t made for something this size.
It was rare for the bugs to venture up to my part of the mountain. At first, I’d thought it was simply because I was so isolated. But this summer, I’d realized a pair of Xarc’n warriors had claimed this side of the mountain as theirs and had been preventing the bugs from coming up the pass.
Yet this was the second scuttler I’d found in my traps today. I’d managed to creep up on the first one from behind, smashing its skull in with my axe. This one was much livelier, turning to face me no matter which way I approached, its claws at the ready.
I was supposed to be trapping small animals and preserving them to stock my cellar in preparation for winter, not trapping bugs.
A skittering sound had me whipping around to find another scuttler behind me; this one, free and mobile. It waved its creepy mandibles at me.
Shit! Another one? This wasn’t good.
This meant the Xarc’n protectors in this area were either slacking or overwhelmed. Both were bad news.
I dropped my axe, reached for my shotgun, and tucked the stock against my shoulder. If I had to shoot it, I would. Then I’d need to run back to my cabin before more arrived. It would mean the end of checking traps for the day, but I’d be alive, and alive was good.
A low growl sounded before someone shouted in a guttural alien language. The bug turned toward the imposing purple warrior stepping out from the trees.
Rhaz’k. Why did I always get the bossy Xarc’n hunter? According to this overgrown mass of purple muscles, I belonged to him simply because I lived in his territory. Let’s just say our previous encounters hadn’t been the greatest.