Protector: A Scifi Alien Romance Page 10

  “Still locked up with the imperators,” Raiden answered.

  Lore snatched a cloak from a nearby closet and held it up to Madeline. “Wear this.” The gray fabric was trimmed in red, and fastened with a medallion embossed with the House of Galen logo. “It marks you as House of Galen, and will give you some protection.”

  She nodded, letting him clip it on. He stayed close to her as they left the arena and headed out into the city. As they stepped out into the morning sunshine, he watched Madeline take a second to lift her face to the sky and close her eyes.

  He knew that she’d been kept in cages and ships for months, and it would take a long time for the memories of that to fade. He grabbed her hand, pleased when she let him, and they followed Raiden and Nero into the city streets.

  Away from the towering spires of the District, the buildings of Kor Magna were simple, two-story buildings all made of local stone. During the day, the streets were filled with locals going about their business—working, heading to the underground market, herding their children to school. At night, it was a different place. People locked themselves in to avoid the dangerous gangs that roamed the darkened streets.

  Not that anyone would mess with gladiators. Especially not House of Galen gladiators.

  Soon, they reached the Kor Magna Spaceport. The area was cordoned off by a high, metal fence. Beyond the wire, rows of ships of all different shapes and sizes were visible. Off to the left sat a large building made of graceful arches—the main spaceport terminal.

  They set off toward the terminal, when he noticed Madeline had stopped. He followed her gaze to a black, spike-covered ship sitting in the distance.

  A Thraxian slaver ship.

  He touched her shoulder. “Okay?”

  She pressed her lips together and nodded. “Yes. For now, I’m focused on Blaine, those women, and whoever else is trapped down in the fight rings.” Her gaze swung back to the Thraxian ship. “But really, our ordeal isn’t over until the Thraxians are stopped.”

  He had no love for the slavers, but even though they were enemies of the House of Galen, the slavers—and their species in general—were still powerful and connected. “One battle at a time, dushla.”

  When they stepped inside the terminal, people of multiple species were bustling in all directions, despite the early hour of the day. Monotonous voices were announcing arrivals and departures of different spaceflights, and offering tours to nearby planets.

  Madeline stared. “It’s such a contrast to the ancient feel of the Kor Magna Arena. In here, it almost reminds me of our space station.” Sadness flitted over her face.

  Lore grabbed her hand. They moved through the busy waiting area, and soon were heading through a doorway and into a corridor leading to the back rooms of the terminal.

  Finally, they stepped into a windowless room filled with beeping equipment, comps, and electronic screens. Seated in the middle of the chaos was Zhim.

  The man’s tall, lanky body was sprawled in a chair, and he was wearing a multi-colored shirt that mirrored his unique eyes. He had an angular face and dark hair pulled back in a messy knot at the back of his head. He smiled at them, though Lore noticed the expression did not reach his eyes.

  “Raiden, Nero, and Lore, welcome.” Zhim greeted them, but his gaze was on Madeline, sharp and interested. “And Madeline Jane Cochran. Civilian commander of the Fortuna Space Station. Rising star at the Axis Corporation.”

  “Former commander and former employee.” Her tone was one Lore expected she used on hapless employees on her space station. “And you’re the infamous Zhim.”

  The information merchant stood, spreading his hands. “I am.” He tilted his head. “I thought you’d look taller.”

  Madeline tilted her head. “I thought you’d look…smarter.”

  When Zhim frowned, Lore snorted to hide his laugh. Raiden was grinning, and even Nero’s lips quirked up at the edges.

  “We’ve come for the sewer maps,” Lore said.

  “And I just confirmed that the payment Galen sent me cleared.” Zhim held out a small, slim-looking chip of translucent material. “Everything’s on there.” Then Zhim’s face changed, turning uncharacteristically serious. “Be forewarned. The sewers are a bad place. A tangle of confusing tunnels, with who knows what living there. I’ve heard bad, but unsubstantiated, rumors of dangerous things down there in the shadows.”

  “Scared of the dark, Zhim?” Nero asked.

  “No. The only thing that scares me is a lack of information.”

  As Raiden clipped the chip into the portable comp he’d brought with him, Lore noticed Madeline was looking intently around the room.

  “What is all this?” she asked.

  Zhim smiled, seemingly pleased that someone was showing an interest in his stuff. “Some of my equipment. I send and receive messages through the spaceport’s relay station. We have a nice little working agreement. Let’s just say, I enhance their equipment and they let me piggyback on their system. It means I can get information not just from Carthago, but from other planets in the system and beyond.” His eyes gleamed.

  “Impressive,” Madeline said. “How far?”

  “Not to the other side of the galaxy, I’m afraid.”

  Her interest visibly dimmed, and she nodded.

  “Not yet, anyway.” Zhim circled around some equipment and pointed to a screen filled with information and diagrams. “But I’m working on it.”

  Madeline leaned forward, frowning at the screen. “This is information on wormholes.” She looked over at Zhim.

  He nodded. “I’m currently investing a lot of time, energy, and money working on some new wormhole technology. My dream is to pull information from all over the galaxy.”

  “How?” she demanded.

  Lore watched as Zhim’s face softened a little, as if the tech geek almost felt sorry for Madeline. Lore touched her back. He knew how desperately she missed Jack.

  “I have some of my people working on generating micro-wormholes, so I can transmit and receive messages through them.”

  Madeline shook her head. “Generating wormholes takes a hell of a lot of energy.”

  Zhim nodded. “But I’m only talking about a very long but very, very small wormhole. Just enough for data. Yes, it takes a lot of energy, so it’s expensive, but I won’t give up until I achieve it. Imagine…information from all over the galaxy!”

  “A wormhole through space-time, directly to another point.” She considered it. “But how do you guarantee that you’ll transmit your messages to the right time? You could end up sending them to the past or the future.”

  Zhim shrugged. “Still working on it. But I’m also intrigued by the thought of sending information back to the past or gaining information from the future.” The man’s eyes gleamed.

  Lore crossed his arms over his chest. “You mean sell information from the past and future. Some sticky ethics there.”

  “I’ve never let ethics worry me,” Zhim said with a sharp smile.

  “But you think you can control the timing of your messages?” Madeline said.

  “I like to believe that anything’s possible, Madeline.” He tilted his head. “What would you tell your son?”

  She swallowed visibly, and Lore wanted to punch the information merchant.

  “I’d tell him what happened, and that I’m alive and that I love him.”

  “Thanks for the maps.” Raiden slipped his comp back into his pocket. “Keep this between us, Zhim.”

  “Always.” Zhim’s multi-colored eyes met Lore’s. “Be careful down there.”

  Lore tilted his head. “Getting soft, Zhim?”

  The man sat and picked up some wires. “Of course not. I just don’t want to lose one of my best customers.”

  Madeline was quiet as they headed back to the House of Galen. Lore was worried. During their night together, she’d opened up, and he’d hoped she was closer to accepting her new life here at the House of Galen. With him. But talk of Earth and w
ormholes had opened up her wounds again.

  Once they reached the House of Galen, Galen was waiting for them. He gestured them all into his office, and any sign of sadness on Madeline’s face was gone, replaced with a focus on the mission at hand.

  Galen stood in front of the window, his hands clasped behind his back. “The Houses are still considering my proposal to join forces and shut down the underground fight rings.”

  “For a bunch of gladiators, they seem pretty indecisive,” Madeline said.

  He speared her with a sharp look. “They are cautious about risking their best fighters and making dangerous enemies.”

  “We have the sewer maps,” Raiden said.

  Galen nodded. “If we have better information on the fight rings, it will help sway the other imperators. Where are they exactly, and what is down there.”

  “When do we go in?” Madeline asked.

  “We?” Lore felt every muscle in his body go tight. He shook his head. “A team of experienced fighters will go in.”

  Madeline ignored him. “I’m a part of this. I’m going.”

  Galen spun. “Again, this is my decision. I’m imperator of this house.” The man’s voice held an edge, and everyone in the room stiffened.

  Madeline lifted her chin. “If you don’t take me, I’ll find another way to get down there. Blaine worked for me. I was in charge of the space station, and ultimately I failed him and the others by letting them get abducted.” Her gaze touched Lore’s before circling the room. “I appreciate all your help. For giving us all refuge here, for helping to rescue us. But I need to be a part of this.”

  “No.” Protecting her had gone beyond just a want or need. It was deep in Lore’s blood now. He snatched her up, and when she started to kick and wrench away, he held her tighter.

  “Lore—”

  He ignored Galen’s warning tone and focused on Madeline. “I will keep you safe, even from your own stupid decisions.”

  She struggled. “What are you going to do? Lock me up? Drug me?”

  Lore froze.

  Her face spasmed, and her voice turned to a harsh whisper. “Please don’t be like my nightmares.”

  Instantly, his gut turned to stone, and he set her down. He was horrified to think she’d consider his need to protect her to be anything like what the Thraxians had done to her.

  “I’m starting to realize I’m not broken.” She gave Lore a long look, before turning back to Galen. “I’m dented a little bit, but I’m not broken. I’ve been down in those sewers, and I can help find Blaine.”

  “This will be a scouting mission, to gather more information to help us convince the other houses to join us in the rescue. We will not engage.” Galen’s icy-blue eye turned to Lore. “She can come, and you will keep her safe.”

  Lore wanted to argue. His hands flexed. The protective need deep inside him wanted to list all the reasons it was safer for her to stay behind.

  “I’m not a precious little thing for you to coddle and protect,” she said.

  “You won’t look after yourself, so someone needs to do it for you.”

  She set her shoulders back. “Well, consider yourself off the job. I can look after myself. I always have.” She stomped out.

  Lore closed his eyes. Smooth as Bollian silk, Lore. He released a breath and opened his eyes. His friends were watching him.

  “You can’t lock her up,” Raiden said.

  “How can you stand it?” Lore asked them. “How can you stand to watch your women heading into danger?” He knew they’d all done it.

  Thorin lifted a big shoulder. “You have to stand with her, support her, and even though she won’t want it, be her shield when she needs it.”

  Kace nodded. “You can’t just lock her away from life. She’s already had that done to her.”

  Raiden slapped a hand to Lore’s shoulder. “Help to give her what she needs, Lore. Not what you need.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Madeline finished dressing in the black leather clothes Harper had brought her. She looked at herself in the mirror. The trousers, shirt, and vest fit pretty well.

  It felt good to do something. Her belly was churning again at the thought of heading back into danger, and at the thought of Lore.

  No. She was not thinking of Lore.

  There was a knock at the door. When she opened it, she found a house server bringing a tray of food for her.

  “This was ordered for you.” The woman placed the tray on a small table and left with a small nod.

  Madeline stared at the food. The tray was filled with fresh foods, a bowl of steaming broth, and a milk drink. All things that were good for her stomach. She knew exactly who was responsible for sending it to her. She stared at the meal for a second, fighting the childish urge to not eat anything. Then, she picked up a crusty hunk of bread and dipped it in the broth. She needed the fuel for the mission ahead.

  Soon, there was another knock at the door. Harper stood in the doorway, wearing similar black clothing to Madeline’s. But Harper’s leather trousers molded to her muscular form with loving familiarity.

  “Ready?” Harper asked.

  Madeline nodded. “I am.”

  They walked down the corridor together. “This is a simple in and out,” Harper said. “We head in, assess the guard numbers, get the layout and situation, and get out.”

  Madeline swallowed. “And then we find a way to get Blaine and the women out.”

  “Still no idea who they are?”

  Madeline shook her head. She’d mulled over the mental picture she’d taken, but none of them had looked familiar.

  “It doesn’t really matter who they are.” Harper’s voice was steady and strong, like the woman herself. “We won’t leave them there.”

  Madeline suddenly grabbed Harper’s arm. “Harper. I was never nice to you.”

  The former space marine cocked her head. “We never really knew each other.”

  “I didn’t let people get to know me.”

  Harper gave a nod. “I get it. It’s hard being the boss.”

  Madeline released a breath. “It wasn’t just that. I’d shut myself off.”

  A smile flirted on Harper’s lips. “Well, I think a certain gladiator has put a stop to that.”

  Madeline wasn’t going anywhere near that comment. “Anyway, I just wanted to apologize.”

  “You might have been a little bit tough and harsh, Madeline, but I never doubted you’d do the right thing for the space station and the people on it. There was nothing you could have done to prevent the Thraxian attack. And now you’re doing the right thing for Blaine and those women.”

  When her eyes prickled, Madeline fought back the stupid threatening tears. “Thank you, Harper. For everything.”

  Together, they stepped into the living area. The gladiators were already gathered. Immediately, her gaze went to Lore. The man looked so damn good dressed all in black. He was looking at her, and she quickly turned away to face Galen.

  “Zhim found us an alternate entrance into the sewers,” Galen told them. A map flashed up on the screen on the wall. “We’ll be going in here.” He pointed to a glowing orange dot.

  There were murmurs and nods.

  The next thing Madeline knew, she was sandwiched between Raiden and Harper as they left the House of Galen. They moved quietly through the darkness of the sleeping city, passed darkened houses and closed storefronts. The bright lights of the District glowed in the distance.

  The part of the city they traveled into looked more industrial and more run-down than the rest she’d seen. Large stone warehouses cast immense shadows, and she saw furtive movements in the darkness. The gladiators kept together as a tight group, weapons raised.

  Then a smell hit Madeline. It was like running into a wall, and it made her gag. She’d thought the sewers were bad, but this was a hundred times worse.

  “Tanneries,” Raiden told her. “This is where they tan leather for use in the arena.”

  Madeline
held her hand to her nose. She couldn’t even describe the foul stench. Maybe rotting fish combined with dead things.

  Ahead, large vats had been carved into the rocky ground. There was an entire grid of them, gleaming under the moonlight. Some were filled with whatever chemicals were used in the tanning process, while other vats were empty.

  They passed the tannery area, Galen checking his small comp screen.

  “Makes sense to have an entrance to the sewers here,” Lore said. “The place already stinks.”

  Galen lead them down a narrow alley between two tannery buildings. A round, metal manhole was set into the ground. The imperator gestured, and Nero and Thorin stepped forward.

  It took the giant gladiators some grunting to lift the heavy cover up. They tossed it to the side with a clang.

  A dark hole yawned at them.

  Galen crouched, flicking on a small, hand-held light. “There’s a ramp heading downward.”

  Madeline watched Galen drop into the hole. The others followed. When it was her turn, she crouched near the edge and took a breath.

  Hands grabbed her, and she stifled a yelp as she was lifted down. She glanced up at Lore. “I didn’t need the help.”

  His face stayed impassive. “Of course, you didn’t.”

  She turned away from him. It was so dark, and now the stench of sewer was competing with the fading stench of the tanning area.

  “Drak, I won’t be able to smell for a week,” Thorin complained.

  Galen lifted a hand, and they moved down the ramp. Soon, it leveled out, and they walked through a few inches of murky water and sludge. Madeline blocked all thoughts of what was actually in the water from her head.

  Moving deeper, she saw small shadows racing away from them. Rats, or the alien equivalent, she guessed. Strange sounds echoed through the tunnels, and they set her nerves on edge.

  Soon, they were so deep in the twists and turns of the sewers, she knew she’d be lost without the map. Suddenly, Galen stopped, lifting a hand.

  They were at the end of the tunnel and ahead of them lay a giant lake of mucky, noxious water.