Page 20 of Trak (Virilian Mail Order Mates #1)

Sixteen

The other side was dim, cramped, and smelled like dirty socks.

There were no laundry items or anything else of interest to be seen in the dingy corridor that was probably used for maintenance.

Hundreds of tubes and wires ran along the walls and ceiling.

On the plus side, there was no way those green Hulks could fit through there unless they had a shrink ray.

The way things were around here, who knew? She wasn’t taking any chances.

Anna reached the end of the passage, where there was, thankfully, an exit.

She cracked open the heavy metal door and peeked out.

A busy corridor with a high, arched ceiling lay before her.

Foot traffic mixed with small vehicles maneuvered around each other.

She had to hide the gun she was carrying but there weren’t many places to stow it in the tight garment.

She opted to stick it down the back of her jumpsuit and let her hair cover the bump, as much as it could.

She could still easily reach it, and hopefully she wouldn’t accidentally shoot herself.

That would be the cherry on this day. With a deep breath, Anna slipped out and into the flow of aliens.

She walked, keeping pace with those around her, but keeping a sharp eye out for her Belka-Tu kidnappers.

They may not be able to fit through the passage she’d escaped from, but it wouldn’t take them long to find out where she’d ended up.

Worse, she was so conspicuous. The aliens around her mostly minded their business, but a few stared.

Maybe they didn’t know what she was, or maybe they were surprised to see a human.

She would be an oddity out here in space, even if she didn’t have an abundance of bright red hair.

Giru Limpa and his crew would have no trouble spotting her. She had to keep moving.

Finding safety would be so much easier if she knew her way around.

The station’s corridors seemed to go on forever.

If only she had a way to contact Trak. He could be anywhere.

Anna’s breath caught at the sound of guttural voices.

She glanced back. Sure enough, giant green aliens were moving through the crowds.

Anna positioned herself so she walked in front of a large, pearly-skinned alien wearing a large red bubble on its head and carrying a tank with an attached tube.

Apparently it breathed something other than oxygen.

Either way, it blocked the Belka-Tu from getting a clear view of her…

for now. She’d give anything for something to cover her red hair.

Her white jumpsuit wasn’t helping her to stay disguised, either.

Just then, up ahead, she saw something familiar.

Anna recognized the entrance to the theater Trak had taken her to.

With a quick move, she ducked inside. Staff were preparing the space for a show to begin later, and only a few guests had arrived to stand around sipping their drinks.

One of the alien attendants stopped her and tried to talk to her.

He had to be asking for a ticket or something.

Anna did the only thing she could think of and pointed to the stage entrance.

She said, “Gitza,” who was the only person’s name she knew there.

“Gitza,” she said again, with urgency. The male nodded and waved her on, apparently thinking she was an attendant of the star dancer.

Many eyes turned to her when she burst into the dressing room. And by many eyes, there was one dancer whose entire upper body was covered in them. They had to have at least fifty eyeballs on their body.

Anna didn’t want to put any of these beings in danger. All she needed was a way out and a message sent to Trak. “Gitza?” Anna asked weakly.

A murmur went through the group and the beautiful, blue-skinned alien with eight arms swept through them in a shimmering gold robe. She said something to Anna and put a hand on her arm.

This language issue was a nightmare. “Trak,” said Anna, and she held up her thumb and pinky to her face like a telephone, which of course no one would understand.

“I really need to find Trak.” She tried miming calling and typing, and eventually Gitza understood what she was trying to say.

The dancer snapped out an order to one of her underlings and tried to get Anna to sit down.

“No,” she said. “I can’t. I have to go.” She pointed to the door and mimicked the hulking Belka-Tus and her running.

Then she pulled the weapon out from the back of her jumpsuit.

Everyone moved back a step, but she put it down beside her and held up her hands.

“Not going to hurt anyone,” she said in her most reassuring tone, and with a smile that was hard to muster.

She was so loaded with nerves, it could have been a grimace she made.

The sounds of crashing and yells and heavy footsteps made everyone freeze.

“They know I’m here.” Anna snatched up her weapon and lunged for the rear of the dressing room, where there must be another exit.

But Gitza used six of her arms to grab and haul her back, then used one of her free fingers to press to her lips.

She bustled Anna into an armoire stuffed with costumes, then barked out another order and everyone scattered back to their vanities.

Anna held still behind the stifling curtain of garments.

She could see through a fluff of a sheer sleeve.

The door slid open and three Belka-Tus muscled their way in.

Gitza stood there, pretending to be in the act of pinning her hair.

She sent them reproachful glares and spoke to them, but not in the grunts they had used.

After a brief discussion, the Belka-Tus moved roughly through the dressing room, looking at every dancer.

Apparently the male worker who had stopped her had told the Belka-Tus where she had gone.

Anna thought about shooting them as they searched, but they would undoubtedly return fire.

It wasn’t worth the risk of harming the dancers.

Her pursuers overturned a few things, to be assholes, clearly, and then left through the stage entrance in search of her.

Anna crept from her hiding spot, weapon clutched in her hand.

Gitza used all eight hands to pat her arms and fold her into the strangest hug she’d ever had.

It was like being embraced by a large group, without all the bodies.

A great crash boomed through the dressing room. It came from the theater. Anna heard the unmistakable roar of a male. She’d never heard that particular noise before, but she knew it was him. Trak had found her and he was not pleased.

Anna turned wide eyes to Gitza, who wrung all four sets of hands. “He’s here.”

She darted for the stage door, where dancers and stagehands were fleeing. Anna burst on stage and through the holographic curtain that shimmered in a shower of glittering multicolored lights made to look like a psychedelic rainbow.

Patrons had begun arriving and taking their seats. Some were running for the exits while others were frozen in place, either in fear or fascination. In the center of the theater, amidst the rubble of smashed-up seats, stood Trak. Or rather, a form of Trak.

He was bigger than before, with muscles bulging where she hadn’t thought muscles existed.

Red striations spidered out all over his skin, glowing red and menacing.

Most dramatic were the pair of red, fiery horns that emerged from above his temples and curved up over his head.

They pulsed and wavered as though they were made of living lava.

His tail swished behind him like an angry feline.

He was as fearsome as he was magnificent.

Anna couldn’t have dragged her gaze away from him if a bomb hit the theater.

“Anna,” he bellowed.

“Um.” All eyes had turned to her as she stood there in a dirty bodysuit, holding a stolen gun. “Hi, Trak.”

His eyes were different, too. Red flames seemed to leap from them, extinguishing only when he blinked, then flaming again.

He began moving toward her, knocking chairs out of his way.

He was burning everything he touched. She could see the sizzle on the chairs and the streams of smoke.

It smelled like cooked electronics in there.

His tattoos glowed blue against the red streaks on his skin.

He looked like a demon out for vengeance, which, Anna supposed, he was.

She wondered what he would do when he reached her, as he would surely incinerate her if he touched her. If this was a permanent condition, it would make their association pretty tricky.

Movement caught her eye at the back of the theater.

Her gaze snapped to the all too familiar shape of a Belka-Tu moving through the path of destruction Trak had made.

It was Giru Limpa. He snuck closer, stepping over smoldering bits of furniture and smashed beverages.

A weapon exactly like the type Anna held was clutched in his hand.

She watched in slow motion as the alien raised it.

A hateful look twisted his features. Trak had no idea of the danger behind him.

Going on instinct, and years of training, and the survival skills she’d spent a lifetime grappling with, Anna dropped to one knee, aimed her weapon and shot.

Her aim was perfect. The green laser hit Giru Limpa in the middle of his forehead.

The alien went down in a big green lump. He didn’t move.

Big-Red-Flaming Trak turned slowly. He gazed down at the body of his enemy. The gun was still in the Belka-Tu’s hand.

Anna’s knees were shaking. All the adrenaline and energy and courage that she’d needed since being abducted drained away.

She numbly took in the destruction in poor Gitza’s theater and eased herself off the edge.

Stumbling toward Trak, she held back tears.

When she got within a few feet of him, he held out his hands.

“I won’t hurt you.” His voice sounded like crackling embers. “Please, don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not,” she said, breathless. “I could never be afraid of you.”

A look of pure relief flowed over his fierce, fiery features.

“You mustn’t come closer.” Heat poured off his glowing body. “I am too hot to touch.”

Anna hugged her body, still holding the gun. She may never let go of it. “Okay.”

“Are you okay?” He frowned, eyes narrowing to red, glowing slits. Those pointed eyeteeth had grown to long, terrifying fangs. “Were you harmed?”

She looked into his flaming eyes and wondered how he could see like that. “No. I’m…fine.” Really? No, that wasn’t true. Her lover and the father of the child she carried was a massive boiling rage monster who was burning the carpet under his feet.

“How are your pants not burning?” she asked, of all the inane things.

“They’re made to stretch and withstand my heat,” he replied, “when this happens.”

Anna felt perilously close to tears. “Will you…go back to normal?” Whatever that was.

“Yes.”

She sighed in relief. “When?”

“I don’t know.” He looked down at his hands. “It takes a great deal of fear and pain to make a Virilian transform to this form.”

She took another step toward him, despite the heat, wishing she could fall against him and be held in his arms. “Oh?”

His gaze was intense and hot—literally, yes, but there was a weight to it that made Anna slightly wary.

“When I discovered you were taken, I…don’t have words for how I felt.

I was overcome. I turned into this, my primitive form.

It has only happened twice before in my lifetime.

” There was no humor here. No swagger or smirk or dry boredom.

Anna saw vulnerability, even in this fearsome form.

She couldn’t miss the hesitant way he held himself away from her, as if expecting her to run, or cringe away from him. “Do you know what this means?”

“Um. No?”

“It means I must be in love with you.”

“You must be?” She shook her head, even as her heart skipped and squeezed. “You don’t sound happy about that.”

“How can I be?” He spread his arms and a wave of heat warmed her face.

“The Sage Ferias didn’t just send me a female to procreate with, she sent me a female to share my life with.

And no, I am particularly comfortable with this idea, but that’s what it is.

” He rubbed his hands over his face, sending up fresh flames.

“Thank you for saving my life, by the by.”

By the by? He was an odd one, no matter what form he took.

“No problem.” She wasn’t sure what to do with the weapon still clenched in her fist or the turmoil in her heart.

Anna had learned to bury her feelings deep and never express them.

Here they were, crowding her throat and all but bursting out of her.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t share that bit about saving my life with my crew,” he added, cutting her off. “I’d never hear the end of it.”

“No promises.”

He winced. “Figures.”

Good grief, she still had to tell this male that he was going to be a father. As it was, her emotions were so overwhelmed she struggled to find coherent words. Her fingers found the medallion around her neck and stroked the smooth, polished diamond there. “I’m…I don’t know how to say this, but—”

“Bloody hell.” He groaned and his horns shot flames straight up in the air.

“You don’t have to say it. I know you have to go back to Earth.

You’ve never expressed any interest in staying with me.

I will have you know this—I love you, Anna.

I love you and I want you to stay with me.

For good. I don’t care if we have ten offspring or none. I just want you.”

“Oh.” Warmth spread from her belly up to her chest. It had nothing to do with the heat he was giving off. She suspected she must be in love with him, too.