Alien Redemption [Clans of Kalquor 06] (27 page)

“Merciful Mother of All!” he cried out. He shuddered.

Conyod’s hips matched Erybet’s gentle rhythm, though Rachel could still feel him trembling as he stroked in and out of her hungry mouth. She kept herself braced up on Sletran’s chest with one hand while stroking Conyod’s second cock with the other. His moan was answered by a growl from Erybet. Suddenly the Imdiko’s noises became muffled, and Rachel rolled her eyes up to look at him.

Erybet was kissing his clanmate. Not a sweet, gentle kiss, but a powerful and passionate and devouring one with one hand fisted in Conyod’s long hair. The smaller man moaned into the Dramok’s mouth, returning the forceful taking with equal hunger. Rachel watched the eager embrace the two men shared, the sight somehow exciting her even more.

No doubt about it. Seeing them together was hot.

Meanwhile, they never wavered in their rhythm as they fucked her delightfully. Beneath her, Sletran had added his rumbling growl to the growing cacophony, one hand stroking and pinching her breasts as he added fingers to the delicious assault on her clit.

Heavy pleasure bloomed, unrolling through her pussy to enfold her belly and chest in a soft, warm explosion. Then searing exaltation poured through her, clenching her nether parts in strong reaction. Beneath her, Sletran tensed. He shouted, and she felt the pulse of his front cock, stretching her harder than ever as it released streams of hot fluid into her womb.

“Now you, my Imdiko,” Erybet growled from far away. His fist closed over the base of Conyod’s prick, pushing Rachel’s mouth back so she only suckled the tip. Conyod yelped a shocked cry as the Dramok’s grip slid forward and back quickly, masturbating him. Rachel’s tongue swirled the end of him, inviting him to feed her.

“Come for us, Conyod,” Erybet said just before taking the Imdiko’s mouth in another rough kiss.

Conyod shuddered and shrieked into his leader’s mouth. The next instant, hot spurts of his seed erupted, shooting straight back into Rachel’s throat. Her lips closed over him, sucking the spicy-savory-sweet fluid down. Erybet milked his cock for every drop before finally releasing him.

Rachel gasped as her heart thundered. She’d already come, but damn if she wasn’t closing in on another wave of mindstealing pleasure. Sletran’s cocks slid free, and wetness poured from her. His hands still worked her tits and pussy.

“She’ll go again,” he said.

“I believe she will,” Erybet panted.

His pace was growing faster and harder, his groin slapping against her ass as he fucked her.

Conyod bent to kiss her, and she imagined she tasted his and Erybet’s passion on the tongue that swept her mouth. Rachel warbled a cry into his mouth as ecstasy built higher, fed by every strong thrust of Erybet’s cock, every tug of Sletran’s fingers. Then crescendo fell over her once more, making her stomach curl in on itself with the force of it. She was barely aware of Erybet’s yell, but she felt every throb of his cock as it emptied into her.

Finally, all that was left was gasping, sagging bodies, and a sense of utter relaxation. Erybet slid out of her in another wash of wet warmth. Rachel was lifted, arranged, and cuddled between the three men who clustered around her.

“Thank you, my Matara,” Erybet said, pressing a gentle kiss to her brow.

My Matara
. The Dramok considered her his mate now. But he still didn’t ask her if she wished to join the clan. Right now there were only soft murmurs of love words from the three men, gentle stroking hands to sooth her lax body.

Maybe Erybet waited to consult with Sletran before making the offer. Rachel hoped they would have that conversation in the very near future. If they didn’t ask her to clan soon, she’d have to make the move herself. She knew she belonged with them.

Chapter 10

Breft stood on the beach trying to cool the rage burning in his head. Raxstad and Lidon stood on either side of him, their expressions just as livid in the pale peach light of the sun rising through the clouds.

Nine dead. Nine innocent Earther women, women we Kalquorians are supposed to protect
from all harm. Dead.

It was enough to make him want to beat others until they were bloody. This unfortunate girl had disappeared only two nights ago, along with two other women. She’d been savaged much worse than the prior victims too. She wore her killer’s bite marks all over her dismembered parts, and Breft had the ugly thought she’d been alive and screaming as the Beast of New Bethlehem delivered such torment. The anesthetic effect of a Kalquorian’s saliva was just enough to numb the small pinpricks of their fangs. It wasn’t nearly enough to mitigate the agony of being torn by a mouthful of blunter teeth.

Not even the thought of saliva samples eased the Nobek officer’s fury. They had plenty of DNA from the killer, DNA that wasn’t on file anywhere. Every Kalquorian was typed at birth.

Which meant one of two things: either the killer was a high-ranking public official or someone connected to top secret military knowledge. Top secret like the New Bethlehem Slaughter of Innocents.

From Breft’s position, he could see the body perfectly fine as forensics did their grim work on it. She’d been cut apart the same as the others before her. The killer had placed her so that her torso was at the center, and her head and limbs splayed out about a foot from their proper places where they should attach. It reminded him of a doll his little daughter had pulled apart.

Then she ran crying to him, lisping in her mother’s language to “fixth baby, Da”.

He’d fixed his little girl’s baby, but he sure as hell couldn’t fix this. Earther women didn’t piece back together after they’d been cut apart.

His eyes squinted at the note pinned to the dead woman’s forehead. A thin metal knife, one specifically made to stab Tragooms in the brains through their eye sockets, had been buried deep in her skull. He knew he’d only be angrier when he read whatever taunts the monster had written for them, but it didn’t change the need to find out what it said. He needed a fucking clue so he could catch the bastard. And hopefully, said bastard would resist arrest so Breft could kill him. Painfully. With lots of blood pouring out of his sorry-ass body.

Lidon finally spoke, his tone kept painfully calm. “It takes a lot of rage to put a thin eye blade through an Earther skull.”

Breft grunted his agreement. The force required to do such a thing would have been monumental.

Raxstad blew out a heavy breath. “We won’t be able to keep the murders from public notice any longer. Emperor Clajak will be all over us for this one.”

Breft scowled. “Good. Maybe he can talk some sense into Emperor Bevau. We’ve got to unseal those records from the New Bethlehem debacle so we can finally get some names.”

His hot gaze went to the cliffs of the Royal House where the Imperial Family lived. No one stirred on the emperors’ balcony. He wasn’t surprised. Bevau and Clajak were both hands-on rulers. If they had any clue something was happening on the beach right outside their home, they’d be here asking questions rather than watching like so many others were right now.

His eyes moved along the line of cliff homes and government offices. Half the balconies were crowded with the curious, no doubt wondering what was going on behind the protective veil of the shielding. Shuttle traffic, growing heavy with those going to their morning shifts and leaving night work, had been diverted so nothing passed directly over the crime scene. Despite the shielding now being in place, the regular route had not yet been re-established. Quick work had guaranteed only a few had glimpsed the carnage. That few were enough. Raxstad’s assertion that the murders would go public was a given now.

Breft’s sharp gaze settled on a cliff about half a mile to the south. His eyes narrowed. He easily found the balcony belonging to the home of the clan who had been the last to see Matara Maria alive. One lone dark dot told him someone watched from there. It was impossible to tell which Kalquorian it was; the height could have belonged to Dramok Erybet or Nobek Sletran.

Access to the pair’s wartime military records had been blocked. ‘For Executive Eyes Only’

the computer had warned him. Erybet’s rank might have warranted that, but not a group commander like Sletran. That meant the Nobek had been involved in classified operations, even though he was mostly a foot soldier. It wasn’t a stretch to believe the two had been on New Bethlehem when the slaughter happened.

The forensics supervisor finally trudged from the body to speak to Breft. “We’re done with her except for removal of the note and her body if you want to take a closer look.”

Breft jerked a nod. Followed by Lidon and Raxstad, he approached the detached head of the victim. An errant breeze flapped the thin sheet of paper, exposing her blank, blue eyes, peering sightlessly at the sky overhead. Her bloodless face was pale and shimmering against its bed of pink-sand encrusted brown hair.

Breft swallowed hard and turned his attention to the note to read the killer’s latest message.

The Beast of New Bethlehem will not rest until all of the disease has been eliminated. The
deaths of the innocents will be avenged.

He scowled and then noticed something else as the breeze died for an instant. There was a smell foreign to the sea salt and ever-present musk of the men surrounding him. He leaned closer and inhaled. Yes, definitely another scent, something deeper, richer than anything else in the area. He moved down to the naked torso and drew in another questioning breath. No doubt about it.

“Sir?” Raxstad sounded hopeful.

“Animal scent.” He was excited at the find, but the odor was not something Breft was familiar with. He didn’t hunt beasts, and his clan had no pets.

The forensic supervisor nodded. “We found some strands of fur here and there on the body.

I’ll have an analysis to you as soon as possible.”

Breft noted their eldest officer’s puzzled look. The man had spotted or thought of something new. “Tell me, Lidon.”

The Nobek’s brows drew close together. He was still staring at the note. “We all know what happened on New Bethlehem. The slaughter of two dozen Earther Mataras and children is enough to make any Kalquorian want blood. Look at what he wrote. ‘The deaths of the innocents will be avenged.’ But why would he turn his rage on the very ones you would think he’d want revenge for? Why is he blaming the Mataras for the massacre?”

Raxstad snorted. “He’s not rational. His mind is so twisted and sick that it has distorted all thought.”

Breft said slowly, “Or he doesn’t count the Earther victims of New Bethlehem as innocent.”

His gaze met Lidon’s. The other Nobek nodded slowly. “There were many Kalquorian victims leading up to the massacre. The Earther rebels fought a brutal campaign after the war ended.”

Breft’s mind turned over the issue. It made sense. His gaze went back to the collection of body parts at his feet. Someone, a soldier perhaps, had gone mad from the constant stress of being under attack. Someone who had seen his associates and friends killed by people who refused to believe they’d been conquered.

It still didn’t excuse such barbarity against innocent women. When Breft thought of how the Earthers had come here already traumatized by a fanatical government, only to die at the hands of one of those tasked with keeping them safe … his fists clenched. His own Matara, an artistically talented beauty named Amelia, had been terrified of him and his clanmates when they first met. Her trust had been hard to win, and the thought this butcher might get his hands on her was too much to bear.

He knew Amelia was safe at home in the company of his Dramok Rajhir, who had the day off. She was probably working on a painting or playing with the twins. Yet Breft had the sudden irrational urge to call and check on her. No, he wanted to go home and see her with his own eyes. Even better, to wrap his arms around her and not let go.

She and the others won’t be truly safe until you catch the bastard. So get your head
together and find him!

To his men, Breft said, “Raxstad, you’re in charge of the scene. Lidon, let’s go interrupt whatever Emperor Bevau is doing and get some answers.”

“Sir?” Raxstad stared at him in surprise. As Breft’s second, it was an insult to delegate the huge Nobek to watching everyone else clean up.

Breft twitched an apologetic grimace. “You’re a personal friend of Bevau’s. I need someone more objective on this interview. I know you can do the job, but it wouldn’t look right to most.”

Raxstad’s expression cleared. He nodded his appreciation of the situation. “Understood.

I’ll report immediately if we find anything of particular note.”

“Thank you.” It wasn’t necessary to show his gratitude, but Raxstad was a good officer.

Breft determined the next high profile duty would fall to him.

Breft and Lidon left the scene, striding to Breft’s shuttle with determination. The image of the dead girl’s severed body burned into his brain, Breft had every intention of getting some answers this time.

* * * *

Grateful for anything that relieved the tedium of organizing files, he answered with a hopeful voice. “Yes?”

Erybet’s voice came through loud and clear. “It’s me, Conyod.”

“Come in.” He stood from his seat cushion in as Erybet entered the room. “My Dramok.

This is a surprise.” A bad thought occurred to him, especially as he looked at Erybet’s grave face. “Is everything all right? Did something happen to Rachel or Sletran?”

Erybet waved his hand and indicated Conyod should sit back down. “No, nothing like that.

I think we should sit and have a long overdue talk, if you have time.”

Conyod stared. A flare of hope warmed his chest. “Of course. My afternoon has been cleared for reports and evaluations, so I have no patients waiting on me. We have all the time you feel we need.”

“Good. This might take awhile.” Erybet sat on the other side of the low table Conyod used as a desk. Conyod quickly followed suit.