Alien Bride, page 16
part #2 of The Alien Series
We are quickly swept up into a sea of people all heading toward the arena, and if I wasn’t in the depths of an anxiety attack before, I sure as shit am now. The crowd swarms, pushing and shoving past us, causing a cloud of dust to kick up and engulf the entire street. All the while, they chant something unintelligible.
I still keep trying to think of a way out, but my thoughts are about as collected as a rat’s on a sinking ship. We make it to the arena in no time at all, and Serif leads us into a three-walled room off the center ring. It is lined with weapons. Above us I can hear people still chanting as they fill the stadium-like seating.
Khalil inspects the weapons at her disposal as she straps something like a holster over her shoulder and across her chest, adding a few knives to it. My heart pounds so hard that I can feel it in my ears. I need to stop this, but I don’t know how. My friend picks up an axe more than half my size and grabs something that looks like a medieval mace.
“I am ready,” she states.
“Oh my god, Khalil…” I choke on my tears, feeling absolutely certain that she is marching off to her death right now.
Kye pulls his shirt off and quickly begins twisting his long, white hair into a tight braid. Everything is moving so fast… He heads directly to a wall containing nothing but sets of swords. In each pair there is a long thin blade and a short but wickedly hooked one. Serif points at a couple, giving suggestions perhaps, but I can’t make sense of what they are saying. Hell, I can’t make sense of what they are doing. Kye starts to pull a set from the wall.
“No!” I scream and push myself between him and the weapons. “No! This is madness! Please stop! There has to be some other way! Someone is going to get hurt.”
“Alessandra, these fights are to the death. People are going to die here today, but luckily, it won’t be any of us,” Serif explains evenly, and suddenly I feel like I’m going to barf.
I lean into Kye, unable to steady myself. He pulls me against his body, and when I look at his face he is almost laughing. “You prick. This isn’t a fucking joke.”
“Are those going to be your last words to me? I have to give you this, Alessandra, if nothing else, you are consistent,” he says, still unconcerned with this life and death scenario playing out before him.
“How can you be this calm? Seriously? Am I the only one here who sees how barbaric this is?”
“No,” Serif calls from behind Kye.
“There. Serif agrees, it is barbaric,” Kye tells me, purposely teasing me at perhaps the most inappropriate time imaginable.
“Please, Kye…” I whisper, and I let him pull me even closer. He nuzzles against my neck and jaw. Slowly, the intense feeling of worry starts to dissipate, but the adrenaline remains. My heart still pounds in my chest, but I lose my thoughts in Kye’s embrace. I’m aware that I’m reacting to his pheromones, but this time… I don’t stop him.
“If I had only known that all it would take is the threat of my death to get you into my arms I would have brought you to Ipoch weeks ago.” I pull back far enough to search his eyes—they are like violet starscapes, but they hold no fear and no deceit… only humor. Clearly, he doesn’t think he is going to die right now.
“Are you in the mood to make another deal?” he asks quietly, and it is like there is no one else in the world besides us in this moment.
“Depends on the deal, I guess.”
“If I live—”
“Kye!”
“And I will live—just to give you full disclosure, this isn’t a very fair deal for you, seeing as there is only one outcome possible—but if I live, you have to agree to do this again with me. Only next time I want it to be just the two of us, in our bed.”
My breath hitches a little at the prospect of letting Kye rub his pheromones against me as we roll around in bed together, and I’m just about to answer when a voice thunders over the loudspeaker announcing the beginning of the fight.
I didn’t think it would happen this soon. I thought we’d have more time to talk. He leans in again to nuzzle me one last time, giving me another heady dose of pheromones. Overcome with emotion, I spontaneously decide to kiss him… probably at least somewhat influenced by the roofie he’s giving me, but just as try to seek out his mouth, I am pulled away from behind.
Serif and Khalil are already headed into the ring as the loudspeaker calls their names. I look behind me, shocked to see Ohen and Loret pulling me back. Kye yells to them over the crowd, but I can’t quite hear him… It sounds like he is giving them instructions in case anything goes wrong. His hand slips from mine and he gives me a roguish smile before grabbing his swords and bounding into the ring.
“No, wait! Don’t do it, Kye! You stupid alien jerk!” I yell, fighting back tears, but he can’t hear me. No one can. The whole arena trembles with the bloodthirsty cheers coming from the stands.
I scream to Kye until my voice is hoarse. The crowd chants over me. I can make out what they’re saying now… the chanting that hasn’t stopped since the crowd first heard there would be a fight. “To the death,” they scream. Over and over again.
Chapter 23
Alessandra
Three burly Makaan face up against Kye, Khalil, and Serif. Kye grips his swords and prowls behind his teammates like a jungle cat. His elegance ever present even at such a tense moment. Serif panders to the crowd, flexing and swinging his weapons, while Khalil sizes up her opponents.
The voice on the loudspeaker calls Khalil out for her crime against Ghoktel, and some of the crowd actually cheer for her. I look to the far end of the arena and can see Ghoktel and his remaining men observing from their own weapons room.
In the blink of an eye, the loudspeaker announces the start of the fight. I grip the half wall separating me from the ring. Someone, Loret perhaps, tries to pull me away, but I rip myself from his grasp. He settles for a comforting hand on my shoulder.
When the fight starts the crowd falls deathly silent. It’s suddenly so quiet, in fact, that I can hear the dirt crunch beneath the fighter’s boots.
“Only Kye Amara…” Loret says. “It was not even an hour that had passed and look at what he has gotten himself into.”
“It wasn’t his fault,” I say, watching the fighters circle each other. No one has made the first move yet. “A Makaan approached us in the bar and was taunting me. Khalil chopped off his hand.”
“All that is good…” Loret groans. “I’m sorry, Alessandra. That must have been terrible for you to experience.”
“I think it was worse for the Makaan.” I smile wanly.
We are interrupted by the clank of metal against metal. One of the Makaan tucks his head down, his tusks aiming out, and charges at Serif. And if it wasn’t the announcer who indicated the start of the fight, it’s the sound of that first strike. Suddenly blades, axes, and maces are swinging and each fighter I am praying for pits themselves against a charging Makaan.
Serif’s blows are heavy and full of power. He drives his opponent back with each swing. Khalil moves with precision, effortlessly sidestepping every blow from the man she fights. She makes no move yet for her own offense, but instead seems to be studying her challenger.
Guiltily, my focus is drawn solely to Kye. He holds the long sword out in front of him while the shorter hooked blade is positioned close to his body. He wasn’t being arrogant when he said fighting with the Tobac Taas was an art form. His style almost looks like an elaborate dance; the movements he makes are exacting and complex, causing the inelegant Makaan he fights to seem significantly ill-equipped for the battle. Kye’s opponent wields a sword as well, but the weapon seems as cumbersome as the man.
The reality of it all washes over me. “He’s going to have to kill him,” I say more to myself then to Loret or Ohen, and a heavy weight fills me.
I flinch every time I hear the sound of metal against metal. A collective gasp comes from the crowd and I have to grip the wall to steady myself. Khalil has started her attack on her opponent. She easily averts his savage advances, side stepping and slicing him with the blade of her axe with each pass he makes.
It is the Makaan’s own force behind his attacks that wounds him every time he misses my friend. Finally, she spins away from him and his stomach drives into her blade, slicing him open. Gasping in horror, I cover my face with my hands so that I only hear the loud crack of her mace against the Makaan’s head—finishing her work. The crowd goes wild. I force my hands from my face.
“You don’t have to watch,” Loret implores.
“No. I do,” I tell him.
Khalil moves to back up Serif—not entering his fight but remaining on the periphery, ready to strike if needed. I’m not as worried about them anymore. They can work as a team. So, my attention returns to Kye. The Makaan he is fighting has tired himself out. He huffs and struggles to swing his heavy blade.
The crowd goes wild again and I look in time to see Serif deliver the death blow to his opponent. I flinch at the brutality and quickly redirect my gaze back to Kye, who gracefully diverts the last fierce strike from the Makaan, who trips and falls to his knees at Kye’s feet. The Makaan remains there, in the dirt, breathing heavily, with his head down. Waiting for his fate. Kye grips his blades in his hands but looks to Serif… clearly uncomfortable with being this man’s executioner. Fight to the death is one thing, but this…?
“It is over. This man forfeits. The Makaan lose,” Serif calls out, and I breathe out a sigh of relief just before I hear a sound like the crack of thunder and see a bright flash. My first thought is that lightning has struck, but Ohen and Loret both tackle me to the ground as screams of terror erupt from the crowd.
I hear another blast and everything devolves into chaos. People are scrambling to clear the arena, and the guards Serif left with us rush out into the ring. I struggle to get to my feet.
“Stay down,” Ohen commands, but I wriggle from Loret’s grip just enough to see inside the ring. Serif is on the ground, hovering over Khalil, who looks to be unconscious. They are surrounded by Serif’s men, whose weapons are drawn, blocking them from some unseen danger on the other side of the arena. My eyes quickly find Kye, who is sprinting towards the spot where Ghoktel had been seated.
“There! There he is! Ohen, help him!” I scream, grabbing Ohen by the shirt and shaking him. He searches the crowd to lock onto Kye and dives over the wall and into the ring, bolting after Kye. I try to jump over the wall to follow, but Loret pulls me back.
“I will not let you endanger yourself! I will make sure you remain here, Alessandra, if it’s the last thing I do,” he tells me, and his tone is so ice cold and serious that I know I won’t be able to sway him. Instead, I look feebly after Kye, but he disappears into the bleachers and Ohen is quick to follow.
“Khalil… we have to see if she is alright,” I sob.
“Khalil has been shot, Alessandra.” Loret indicates the ring, and I see Serif hoisting her onto a stretcher with the help of his men.
I look back and forth between Khalil and where I last saw Kye. Loret decides for me. “We will follow the guards to the hospital,” he says compassionately but firmly nonetheless. I know there will be no going after Kye, and my heart sinks.
Chapter 24
Alessandra
“Double the guards on our shuttle until we have confirmation,” I hear Loret telling one of Serif’s men, but the majority of their conversation eludes me. I stand looking out the second-story window of Ipoch’s hospital. The warmth of the sun feels good against my clammy skin.
Khalil was taken directly into surgery. Neither Loret nor I were allowed in the room. I keep picturing Khalil lying in the dirt, and Kye and Ohen disappearing into the bleachers. Then I visualize all the violent deaths I have seen today and fear grips me again and again. I can’t push the thoughts away, I can’t push away the worry—not until I know all my friends are safe.
How stupid I was to come here, to be excited and to think this was some kind of adventure. If I hadn’t come, would everything in the bar have gone down the way it did? If I were back up on the ship, lost in my music, would everyone be on their way back… safe and whole?
Loret’s hand on my back pulls me from my thoughts… not far from them, though. “Here, drink.” He hands me a glass of water. I force some down my dry throat and set it aside.
“Anu, someone should call her and tell her—” I begin.
“A comm has been sent. Anu is taking a pod and should be here by the time Khalil wakes from surgery,” he assures me.
A sob escapes me. “She’s… you mean, she’s going to be okay then?” I don’t know if I’m asking or begging.
“The first shot was not a direct hit and Serif was able to pull her from the second. The doctors here will be able to repair the wound. She will be better in a few days.”
“Oh!” I try to speak words, maybe to thank god for sparing Khalil, or thank Loret for bearing such good news, or maybe even to thank Khalil for not being dead. But the sounds that escape me are unintelligible sobs and gasps. I fall forward into Loret’s arms and I let him hold me as I cry. I don’t hear the commotion coming down the hall through my sobs, but suddenly Loret is ripped away from me and all I can see are swinging limbs blurred by my tears.
Serif is in the background somewhere shouting orders, I hear men yelling and guards come running to break up the sudden brawl. When everything comes into focus I see Kye and Loret being held back from each other.
“Kye? Kye!” I breathe. He’s still yelling at Loret, but when I run to him, wrapping my arms around him he shuts up and hugs me back. I pull away quickly though, only to ensure he has no injuries. Immediately I see he has blood sprayed across his chest and staining his pants—I become frantic.
“Alessandra, I am fine. I’m fine! It isn’t mine,” he insists as I pat him all over in search of a wound.
“Oh thank god!” I see Ohen then and run to hug him, too, but his gaze shoots to Kye and he stops me, patting my back.
“I am well, too, thank you,” he says, his eyes on Kye the whole time.
Loret shakes his shirt back into place and my brain starts to catch up to the past few seconds and the fight between Kye and Loret. I can see blood in Loret’s mouth as he spits and wipes at his lips.
“What the fuck was that about?” I yell, swatting at Kye’s chest. He ignores my angry words and pulls me close to him again.
“Damn you, Amara! Still aren’t satisfied with the extremes of your little adventure here? Need more do you?” Loret bellows.
“Fuck you,” he tells Loret over my head as I try to wiggle away, but he hugs me too tightly.
“I’m done! Done! This was the last straw. These women could have been killed. It is your task to protect them and what have you done since they were recovered from the Makaan? You make delays and try to sweep everything under the rug, for whose benefit? This is a ‘friendly’ rivalry no more. You are a danger to these women and unqualified to help the colonies, and I will make sure every Islerian knows it.”
“Do not touch what is mine, Loret,” is the only response Kye gives him. Loret gives me a long and meaningful look before he turns and stalks away.
Kye and Ohen supply Serif with a breakdown of the events that occurred after they left the arena, their pursuit of Ghoktel and his remaining men, and the fight that followed. Serif sends his guards to… collect the bodies. The only Makaan left alive is the one that Kye spared in the ring. He was surrounded by Serif’s men and brought to a holding cell somewhere in the colony.
“Ghoktel wanted his revenge, and when he saw us winning, he fired on Khalil…” I hear them explaining.
“They refused to return peacefully and turned their guns on us,” Kye recounts. “A report will have to be made to the Makaan government. I will take full responsibility—”
“We will do it together, brother,” Serif tells Kye. “There will be much work ahead of us, but from here on out, for better or worse, we will do it together, yes?” They clasp each other’s shoulders and continue their discussion in hushed tones.
Kye reluctantly releases me when the doctors announce Khalil is allowed visitors, though she hasn’t woken up yet. In her recovery room I notice just how different this place is compared to a hospital on Earth. I expected her to be connected to a bunch of tubes and wires, or devices to help her breathe. But other than a circular electrode near her temple, she is unencumbered. Her skin looks sallow and there are dark circles under her eyes, but otherwise she looks well… all things considered. I touch my hand to her chest, remembering the greeting she gave me the first time we were able to speak.
“Alessandra?” I’m startled when Kye enters the room. “It is time we leave.”
“Leave? What? We have to wait until she wakes up, or at least until Anu gets here.”
