First Chapter: Destination Alien Bride
On The Hunt
Khaz
Khazirrek Ir Scapus glared at the leafy trees and rolling waves of the human beach outside his craft. He’d touched down in the farthest, most remote corner of the tiny island and already engaged the cloaking mechanism. The trip to this ridiculous stretch of land on a backwater planet might be an act of futility, but Khaz was of the Apex’ir.
And the Apex’ir were always ready for a hunt.
Always.
Releasing the hatch, he stepped onto the pale sand bordering the bright waters.
Personal camouflage already activated, he flexed his muscles and drew a deep breath through the filters of his helmet—the one he’d wear until he died—testing the air for any hint of his enemy. Nothing.
Yet.
His people’s enemy was clever.
They’d lie low, stay amongst the humans, hiding within the aura of their unnatural body heat—and within their skin. Lesser species would fail to spot the danger in time.
Good thing the Apex’ir were the greatest hunters in all the galaxies.
Those who hunted the predators.
Beneath his helmet, he let a feral smile stretch his features—took pleasure in the fierceness of the face briefly reflected on the screen. A low, clicking purr rumbled in his chest.
Even if it came to nothing, a hunt was welcome. Better than sitting in the ship with his brothers, endlessly scanning for a sign. He locked flexible strips of armor into place on one of his shoulders and arms—the only protection he’d wear—briefly activated his energy blade and confirmed all systems were functioning properly.
Systems good.
Time to start the hunt.
He paced into the trees.
His uncovered feet sank into the sand and a warm wind rustled through the tips of his scapril—headtails—covering his head. The tendrils were thick and semi-mobile. Where free from the constraints of his helm, they were sensitive to changes in his environment.
Right now, the unruly tails wanted to bask in the sunshine and taste the soft air.
So did he.
Pointless wants.
Only his true mate’s touch could unlock his helmet, and any hope of finding that treasured soul had perished along with his planet.
His hand flexed into a fist.
He paused at a line of tall trunks topped with green—palm trees, his display informed him. Before him, a group of humans milled around one of their fake ponds, pawing each other and consuming brightly-colored drinks full of the mild poison the species enjoyed far too much. A pack of them brayed in amusement as one toppled over a seat, and Khaz shook his head.
How had such a species conquered this world?
He scanned the humans, checking for the markers of his enemy’s influence: raised body temperature, stunted awareness, overactive libido…
Stars burning…
These humans were all like that already.
How was he supposed to tell if they’d been touched by The Fever when they stumbled around their backwater, flushed and strung out on their poisons and copulating with anything they could reach? Pleasuring themselves without commitment or work… For a moment his body tightened in longing, wishing it could enjoy the casual touch of another, and he clenched his teeth in frustration.
They had no idea how much they stood to lose.
Honestly, he wasn’t sure they’d care even if they did. Bizarre creatures. Many didn’t have a lick of self-preservation. He’d have to get closer to stand a chance of catching the finer signs of infection.
Risky? Yes.
But he’d come prepared.
Confident in his electrobracer’s visual disruption field—which bent light around his body and rendered him near-invisible to any watching humans, or even his enemy—he left the trees and moved through the pack, circling the fake pool and scanning as he went.
Tall even for the Apex’ir, Khaz towered above the humans.
Even the largest, male-presenting of the group barely reached his shoulders. The majority would have stared at his chest—if they’d been able to see him.
“Whoooo!” One yelled and brushed past him to hurdle itself into the fake pond. “Skinny dipping!”
“Maybe I’ll take care of those pants,” another cried after the first.
Khaz briefly lifted his gaze to the sky and repressed the urge to casually flick a red-faced male into the water.
Concealed or not, they really should have noticed him wading through their midst—but they didn’t. One female bounced off his stomach and he caught her arm, redirecting her toward the tent full of fruity poison. She didn’t so much as blink at him, her gaze completely focused on the beverages and some male wearing a patterned shirt with the same colors.
Was that male luring her with Fever-fed substances?
His sensors claimed no, but Khaz remained suspicious. Surely no creature that dressed in poison-worthy colors and stumbled into tables could be considered a worthy mate—even a temporary one?
“Hey, baby…” The male held out a dangerously pink drink. “Lemme show you a good time.”
“Oooh. Thanks!” She gave a high-pitched titter, a sign she accepted his courtship.
Khaz shook his head again and scanned the next male.
It was important to focus on the males—the biggest potential threat. The Fever always took the male-presenting of the species for their physical hosts, manipulating the females with a toxic mix of false pheromones and mood-affecting chemicals. None of the known Fever substances registered on his sensors, but his scapril were twitching in warning.
He made a point to brush against as many humans as possible, to get the most accurate readings.
His scanners worked, flashing details on the inside of his helmet.
Intoxicated by poison-drinks and some kind of plant-based substance.
Dealing with an inflammation of the genitals.
About to be sick from fruit-poison.
Aroused by its own hand.
No indication of The Fever—though the behavior of this group of humans matched that desired by his enemy. Especially since his helmet’s translators informed him the group was gathered for a human mating ceremony.
Irritation stretched his chest. He abandoned the group for the series of central buildings in the low complex.
Humans.
What were they good for?
He moved into the shadows of an empty building and let a soft growl rattle his throat. He and his brothers had been trapped on this planet for too many cycles without a hint of their enemy. Yet one of their own had disappeared on this backwater—which meant he had to be captured or dead—and none of them could imagine the humans managing such a feat alone.
To answer his own question: what were humans good for?
Bait.
That’s what.
If the Gods of Rage and Revenge blessed him with a good hunt, he’d find a trace of his enemy on this slip of land—or, better yet, a sign of his missing brother. He needed a good hunt. And he’d not hesitate to cut down every single damned human on this island to reach his enemy.
He froze against a pale wall as the island’s workers hurried past in a wave, heading for the ocean’s shore. He scanned them as they went, getting alerts for various substances and sicknesses—just none from beyond earth.
Tricky.
His enemies were very tricky.
He began circling the buildings, searching for a trace of his enemy.
The fact that he’d die before his face felt the breath of free air didn’t matter—not anymore—all that mattered was the hunt. He’d take out as many of the Scrotriptrum before he joined the rest of his people among the stars.
Vengeance was all he and his brothers had left…
Awareness rushed over him.
He stopped in his tracks and studied a large building on the far edge of the central complex. The front of the structure had a shiny wall of polished stone and bright green potted plants, which gave way to a long counter—a front desk, his helmet’s translators informed him, where humans register their stay. Switching his vision from infrared to x-ray, he could see a series of rooms beyond, stacked with boxes and sacks of what appeared to be supplies.
One lone figure moved through the space.
His instincts fired.
His eyes narrowed as it crouched before each stack of boxes. Shifting his gaze, he confirmed the majority of the workers remained on the wooden pathway built to receive the humans’ water-faring vessels.
A row of boats and humans streaming into the central pool area indicated they’d be there a while.
If the workers were on that walkway—then what was inside?
Had he found his enemy so quickly? A low rumble of satisfaction vibrated through him. Enemy or not, his instincts were never wrong. That lone figure was important—and he’d find out why.
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