Page 8 of Rescued by the Alien Hit Man (Villains Do It Better)
CHAPTER 8
MIA
I stood there, my heart racing with the kind of betrayal that seeps into your bones. “How can you say that?” I said, the words a thorn in my throat. Across the room, Varek’s laughter skittered across my skin like ice, his mocking tones echoing off the cold metal walls of the lab. I moved to stand beside Cikarius, heat searing my cheeks as I looked him in the eyes.
“Because the mission always comes first.” The voice, once warm and protective, now felt as alien to me as the jungle moon’s glowing flora. Cikarius, the man who’d saved me from slavers, whose embrace had promised safety, was just another hit man. My mind reeled, but survival instincts kicked in—I needed a weapon, an escape, anything. But Varek was blocking the door, his slim figure a barrier as insurmountable as Alfataken station’s hull.
Before I could move, Cikarius’s muscular arms ensnared me, trapping me with ease. He positioned himself between me and Varek again, a living shield with a vice-like grip. Confusion mingled with the panic pounding through my veins, each heartbeat screaming for me to flee.
In the background, Varek’s chuckle unfurled again, a smug sound that filled the entire space. “Cikarius is the Sionagog Syndicate’s best assassin,” he said, and I could almost feel the smugness radiating from him. “Always gets his man… or in this case, woman.”
I fought against Cikarius’s hold, muscles straining, skin slick with perspiration. The air tasted metallic, heavy with fear and the tang of impending violence. Around us, the lab was silent, save for the distant hum of lights and our own ragged breaths—a stark contrast to the vibrant cacophony of Dufair’s jungles outside.
I couldn’t believe it. This man, whose touch had ignited something primal within me, was now my captor. His scent, once a heady mix that pulled at my senses, now filled me with dread. But there was something in his eyes, a glint that didn’t match the hard set of his jaw. It was almost like… No, I couldn’t afford to hope. Not now.
My heart hammered against my ribcage, a frantic drumbeat in the lab’s silence. The air was electric with tension, every instinct screaming at me to flee, but Cikarius’s iron grip held me fast. How could I have fallen so hard for his facade? I mentally chastised myself for being such a fool, even as I felt the ripple of his muscles tighten around me.
“Hide when I say,” he whispered into my ear, his voice a low thrum that sent shivers down my spine despite the danger. Confusion clouded my thoughts, his words a puzzle I couldn’t solve amidst the chaos.
“Why—” I started, but his eyes cut me off, their yellow glow fierce and unyielding.
“Understand?” His question was a command, and I nodded, more lost than ever.
“Get on with it,” Varek’s voice sliced through the thick atmosphere, impatient, cold. “We have news for Ivor.”
The mention of Ivor sparked a fire in my belly. My mind raced, piecing together fragments of information, trying to make sense of the madness.
“Ivor Arteus?” The name slipped from my lips before I could catch it, a gasp that betrayed the shock constricting my throat. Ivor—calm, collected Ivor, with his sharp suits and sharper business acumen—intertwined in this web of deceit? It was incomprehensible.
“He’s my boss’s competition,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, the words tasting like betrayal. “He owns the only other firearms company worth mentioning on Alfataken Station.” Memories of formal dinners and polite conversation swirled in my head, now tainted with the sour sting of treachery. Ivor killing for profit? It was a chilling thought.
“Enough of the chatter.” Varek’s command was a whip-crack in the stillness, his intent clear as the sterile light that bathed us all in its unforgiving glow.
Cikarius’s response came smooth as silk, a deadly promise. “Gladly.”
His next words were for me alone, a secret shared in the barest of whispers, a brush of his lips against the shell of my ear sending involuntary shivers down my spine. “Now.”
With those words, he spun around, and I knew this was the moment to act. His declaration hung in the air, heavy with meaning. “The mission is Mia’s safety and happiness.”
A flood of adrenaline surged through me at his signal, my legs carrying me away with a haste born of survival instinct. I darted toward the cover of the counters, my mind reeling at Cikarius’s allegiance. Was this another deception, or had the assassin with eyes like molten gold truly turned against his orders for me?
As I crouched low, hidden from view, I couldn’t help but glance over my shoulder. Cikarius faced Varek, the tension between them palpable. And then it began—a dance of lethal intent—as Cikarius moved with a grace that belied his size, each motion deliberate, each strike a silent vow of protection.
My breath caught, time slowing as the two men circled, predators locked in a battle where only one could prevail. Every fiber of my being urged me to run, yet I stayed frozen, watching, waiting, knowing that my life hung in the balance of this violent ballet.
“Only two will walk out of here,” Cikarius’s words echoed in my mind, a grim prophecy as I watched him fight for both our futures.
I flinched as another blow landed, the sound of flesh on flesh echoing through the abandoned facility. Cikarius was a symphony of violence, each move a deadly note played out before me. Varek’s eyes, once so sure, now flickered with fear as he struggled to counter the relentless assault.
The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood and sweat. My heart hammered against my ribs, an erratic drumbeat syncing with the cadence of their combat. I could feel every strike in my bones, a jarring dance of death that both terrified and mesmerized me.
“Should’ve known better than to stand against me,” Varek spat between gasps for breath, his voice a razor sliding across my nerves. He parried a punch, then twisted, his heel grazing Cikarius’s temple. A temporary reprieve, but it was clear—he could match Cikarius’s skills.
My stomach knotted at the thought. If Varek won, I’d be next. His promise to complete Cikarius’s original mission—to end my life—hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. But the threat didn’t stop there. “And once you’re gone, traitor, they’ll pay handsomely for your head, too.”
Dust and debris rose like ghosts around them as they circled one another, two predators locked in a lethal waltz. The facility groaned around us, a lament for the violence it sheltered.
I could sense the shift in Cikarius, the tension in his shoulders coiling tighter than the springs in the derelict machinery that surrounded us. His gaze fixed on Varek, a silent vow that he wouldn’t let harm come to me.
Their dance continued, a blur of movement and fury. My senses were overwhelmed—the stench of oil, the cold bite of the metal floor beneath me, the electric hum of the flickering lights.
As they fought, my mind raced. We needed to escape, to get to Ivor’s base and alert authorities about the corporate espionage—but first, we had to survive this fight.
Cikarius’s fist connected with a sickening crunch, and Varek stumbled back. For a moment, time seemed to slow, and I saw the outcome written in the stark lines of determination etched on Cikarius’s face.
“Never going to happen,” Cikarius said, each syllable a promise as deadly as the blows he dealt. “Only two of us will leave this lab.” His words cut through the cacophony of our desperate struggle, and I watched, heart thudding against my ribs, as Varek’s smugness crumbled beneath the weight of Cikarius’s resolve.
Varek was formidable—another creation of twisted science like Cikarius—but there was something in Cikarius’s eyes, a blazing fury that wouldn’t be quenched. My breath caught in my throat, the air heavy with the tang of heated metal and the electric scent of fear.
They clashed, a symphony of violence played out in grunts and the harsh ring of flesh on flesh. Every nerve ending screamed for me to look away, but I couldn’t. Not when Cikarius fought for more than survival—for loyalty, for a bond that defied his very design.
A final crushing blow, and Varek’s body crumpled to the ground, lifeless. The sound echoed in the empty space, a stark reminder of the line Cikarius had crossed for me. For us.
My pulse hammered, a frenzied rhythm that mirrored the chaos of my emotions. Gratitude, terror, and an inexplicable warmth swirled within me as I edged from behind the counter. The metallic tang of blood filled my mouth, its iron grip a contrast to the soft give of moss underfoot as I moved closer to him.
“Thank you,” I said, the words scraping raw from my throat. Trembling fingers reached out, brushing against the cool, purple skin of his arm. It was an anchor in the storm, the solid reality of his presence pulling me back from the precipice of panic.
His arms enveloped me then, a fortress of muscle and sinew that shielded me from the world. In that embrace, the chill of the abandoned facility melted away, replaced by the heat radiating from his body. I shivered, not from the cold but from the sudden, searing awareness of every point where our bodies touched.
“Safe,” he said, and the single word was a benediction, a vow that resonated deep in my bones. The danger wasn’t over; far from it. But in that moment, held close by the assassin who’d sworn to protect me, I allowed myself the luxury of believing it could be true.
As we stood among the remnants of what had been a fight for life, a new battle loomed on the horizon. With Varek’s still form at our feet, a chilling prelude to what awaited us outside, I knew that whatever came next; we were a team.
And as we turned to leave the dim glow of the research facility behind, I couldn’t shake the feeling that despite the respite of Cikarius’s arms, the darkness of Dufair’s jungles harbored threats far greater than any we had yet encountered.
The cold seeped into my bones as I watched Cikarius close the eyes of the man he had just killed. The lab, once a hub of innovation and discovery, now felt like a tomb, silent except for the hum of abandoned machinery. Cikarius’s jaw was set, his yellow eyes fixed on some distant point only he could see.
“We need to move,” he said, his voice slicing through the stillness.
I nodded, the weight of what lay ahead settling in my stomach like a stone. Ivor’s base—a den of corporate espionage so entwined with power that it seemed invincible. But we had to try; the evidence we’d gathered was too damning to ignore.
“Let’s go then. I need to find a computer, one with more power than my laptop.”
Cikarius nodded. “Be quick about it. I don’t want to hang around here too long.”