Saved by the Alien Lord: Sci-fi Alien Invasion Romance (Warriors of the Lathar Book 2) (4 page)

“Tarrick…their lord, the one in charge…” She paused and closed her eyes, her words escaping in a rush. “If I agreed to his claim over me, then the rest of you got the choices.”

There was silence. Complete and utter silence.

Cat cracked one eyelid, then another and looked around. Sadness and approval shimmered in Jane’s eyes, echoed on the faces of the other women. Jane squeezed her hands.

“Thank you. That was a noble sacrifice. He didn’t…he wasn’t…”

“No.” Cat was quick to shake her head. “No, not at all. I mean…there’s something they inject into you—”

“The bastard drugged you?” This time it was Kenna who spoke up, her voice outraged. “When I see him, I’m gutting him. With a fucking blunt spoon.”

“It’s not like that. It…well, they’re bigger than us.
Way
bigger. The stuff makes you dilate…down there. You know. You feel buzzed and all, but it’s like two shots of decent vodka.”

At the word, there were several moans. Supply runs to the base were comprised of essentials, so alcohol was in short supply. Cat had even heard tell someone on one of the lower levels had been trying to distil their own. No one was blind yet, so she assumed it was an “urban” myth or they’d managed it.

“We have other problems though,” Cat cut through the groaning to bring the conversation back on course. As she did so, she reached out to touch Jane’s arm, her finger tapping. Tap or press in quick succession until Jane looked at her, eyes widening a little as she got the message.

They don’t understand morse code
.

“There’s another group of aliens here, they seem to be in a power struggle with this lot.”

“Over?” Jane nodded as she spoke, letting Cat know she understood.

The ident tags…

“Us. Women from this sector. The ones who just arrived are mounting a challenge for this area of space. And believe me…” She shuddered. “This lot don’t look like they’ll give us any choices.”

…access the computers
.

“Shit. What do we do?” Kenna, another of the Marines, crowded forward, dividing her attention between Jane and Cat. The muscles in her shoulders bunched as she rolled her neck as though preparing for a fight.

Jane looked around, frowning at the sound of a commotion by the door. Before she could answer, energy bolts slammed into the field keeping them in the cell. It fizzled out and disappeared as a bot crashed to the floor in front of them, a smoking hole in the middle of its chest.

“Right now? Run!” Jane bellowed as the fight broke into the room.

The women scattered, streaming out of the holding cells as more robots poured into the room to engage the ones that had been guarding them. The black metal carapaces of the newcomers made them easy to distinguish.

Cat gathered her skirts and ran between the fighting monsters, following Jane’s lead. If they could just get into the central section of the vessel, they might make it to the flight deck. Find a ship. Failing that, they could at least access the weapons lockers she’d seen in the corridors.

The black robots had the advantage of numbers though, and before they could escape the room, had all but cut down the others. Cat stifled a scream as a silver-colored robot crashed to its knees in front of her, saved from being crushed when Kenna grabbed her hand and yanked her back.

“To the left,” she yelled and a black robot whirled around to fix its single red eye on them. “Go, go, go!”

She pushed Cat ahead of her, both of them slipping on grease that oozed from the fallen robot like blood leaking from ruined veins. Her breath escaped in a squeak, Cat righted herself but felt Kenna yanked from her grasp. She glanced back over her shoulder to see the Marine woman in the clutches of a black robot.

“
Run!
” Kenna yelled, fighting to escape its clutches. Although its talons dripped with the “blood” of the bots it had destroyed, it folded the lethal blades away so they didn’t cut the struggling woman. Looked like they were the same as Tarrick’s bots, they wouldn’t kill them…but she wouldn’t hang around. As long as one woman got away, there was hope for the rest.

She spun on her heel and sprinted for the open doors. Metal flashed in her peripheral vision, the robots reaching out to grab her. All black now, there were no silver ones left on their feet. Bellowing, she ducked and wove, trying to escape their grasp. Her heart pounded in her chest, powering the muscles of her body in her desperate bid for escape. Just ahead of her was Jane, the other woman’s lithe form and fitness more suited for a pitched battle against alien combat robots. Shit.

It made no difference. Before either of them reached the doors, two heavier-set black robots stepped in the way. Their eyes focused on the two women and both skidded to a halt as red dots appeared on their chests. Slowly, they raised their hands in the universal symbol for surrender.

“So much for not killing women,” Jane shrugged. “I can’t believe I’m saying this… Okay, asshole. Take us to your leader.”

Chapter Three

As evil alien overlords went, Varish T’Laat ticked all the boxes and then some. He wore the same uniform as Tarrick, right down to the red sash, but the leather was darker and battered. Extra sections of sewn-in armor made him look more sinister and the vicious scar down one side of his face just by his eye didn’t help him much in the approachable and cuddly stakes.

The women were herded to stand in front of him in a large room. Long and high-ceilinged, it resembled a throne room. An impression that was aided because Varish sat on a damn throne. He leaned forward, dark hair falling across eyes so cold that Cat shivered.

“Who is in charge here?” His voice was silky smooth. Although they should know better, a few of the women glanced toward Jane near the front of the group.

She stepped forward, chin high as she looked Varish in the eye. “That would be me. Major All—”

In a move like lightning, he pulled the heavy pistol and fired. Jane cried out, clutching her leg as she collapsed on the floor. Cat gasped, her immediate instinct to go to the fallen woman, but Varish motioned with the pistol.

“Correction.
I
am in charge.” He stood, heavy boots clumping against the steps as he descended the dais. When he reached Jane, he looked down at the fallen woman as she panted in pain, her forehead pressed against the floor. No sympathy showed in his expression. Then he looked up at the rest of them.

“You belong to the T’Laat now. And you have two choices.”

None of the women responded with so much as a murmur. They were all too wary to risk a response that would get them all shot.

“Good, you’re learning already.” Varish smiled, walking around the small group with a measured tread and praising them like he would a puppy that had mastered a new trick. “Either you behave or you suffer. Simple as that. I’m not K’Vass… your sole purpose aboard this ship is to offer comfort for my men.”

He paused in front of them, caressing the barrel of the pistol in a very unhealthy manner. “Remember that you do not have to look pretty, or even be able to move, for them to use your soft cunts. Do you understand?”

No response. There never would be to a declaration like that.

“Good.” He clicked his fingers at Cat. “You…K’Vass’s woman. Come here.”

A chill swept over her skin, but she took a step forward, then another, forcing her unwilling body to approach him. Every instinct within her urged her to run, to get as far away from him as she could as fast as she could but she knew it wasn’t possible. He’d cut her down before she’d taken three steps and would laugh as she died in agony.

She came to a stop in front of him, her eyes on the floor. Not the modesty of a slave faced with her master but pure self-preservation. If he looked into her eyes, he’d see she wanted to gut him. Slowly.

“I can see why K’Vass chose you. You are lovely.” He reached out and ran a hand down the exposed length of her arm, strong fingers shackling her wrist and he pulled her up against him. Revulsion filled her, bile rising in her throat as strong arms wrapped around her. Cat scratched at his neck and shoulders, doing no harm to the battered leather but using the movement to cover as she snapped the chain around his neck. She tore free of his grasp and stepped backward.

His face contorted in fury and he lashed out, backhanding her across the face. Pain flared in her cheek and she spun around, stumbling as she fell onto Jane on the floor.

“Bitch!” he hissed, standing over her. “Never,
never
say no. Ever!”

“I’m sorry, my Lord,” Cat sobbed noisily, keeping her hand concealed beneath her body as she pressed Varish’s ident tag into Jane’s hands. The other woman, lips still pressed together in pain, gave an almost imperceptible nod.

“You’d better be,” he snarled, wrapping a hard hand around her upper arm and hauling her bodily to her feet. “Get the rest of them prepared for the choosing ceremony,” he ordered the guards, already dragging Cat from the room. “Leave that one there until it dies. As a warning.”

He said nothing more. Instead, he stormed from the room, dragging Cat in his wake. She didn’t try to pry his fingers from her arm, knowing that the reprisal was likely to be deadly.

“Please, my Lord. I’m sorry,” she whined, keeping up the pretense of a panicked slave. All the while though, she kept an eye out for something, anything she could use.

Hopefully, the throne room would be cleared and Jane allowed to move freely. If she were able. Cat had been in the computer core then unconscious for most of the Lathar attack on the base so she had no idea how bad injuries from those pistols could be. The Marine had been conscious, at least. And conscious was good, right? It meant they had a chance.

“You will be,” he muttered as they reached the end of a corridor and a door swished open in front of them. Unlike Tarrick’s, which were neat and military-sparse, Varish’s quarters were opulent and decadent.

He shoved her into a large room. She had a fleeting impression of large couches and sumptuous rugs before he pushed her into a bedroom. Her mouth dropped open. It looked as though it had been pulled from a bad romance holo-movie she’d once seen,
the Space Sultan’s Harem
.

There was already someone there, a tall, slender woman wearing robes in the corner of the room. Cat sucked in a breath. Was Varish into voyeurism as well?

“Out!” He barked the order at the other woman, who slipped past them without a word of complaint.

Cat got a look under her hood at her face as she did so. It was a long face, not human or lathar looking at all but more like a human version of a cow. The creature scuttled out before Cat could say a word.

He pulled her around to face him, her back to the bed and looked down at her. He was as well built as Tarrick was, and he was handsome, even with the scar, but she felt nothing other than a mixture of anger and fear.

“You’re a pretty one,” he mused, as though he were talking to himself. Like she wasn’t even present…or didn’t matter. Given his words earlier, she was going with
didn’t matter
. She tried not to flinch as he reached out and touched her cheek. A gentle touch, now. She doubted it would stay so.

“I can see what K’Vass saw in you. It will kill him to know I’ve got you now…that it’s my cock buried in your silken depths. Plowing you over and over until you scream my name.”

“I’ll never scream your name,” she promised and struck. He was so close he couldn’t block and a man was a man all over the galaxy. Even the Lathar kept their balls between their legs, just like humans. Bringing her knee up, she clocked him hard in the groin.

He grunted, folding at the waist. She tried to slide to the side, escape him, but his hand shot out and grabbed her arm in a punishing grip. Screaming, she fought like a wildcat, landing blows where ever she could. It made no difference. Straightening up, he backhanded her again, the power of the blow knocking her backward over the bed. On her in an instant, he pinned her to the soft surface with his body, the bulge in his groin pressing hard against her.

“I didn’t say you’d be screaming in pleasure, did I?”

***

The Latharian Emperor was the greatest warrior in their culture, a man both revered and feared as the physical embodiment of the ancestor gods. He was also Tarrick’s uncle, on his mother’s side. Family connections didn’t mean that Tarrick could duck out of a holo-connection with the man early though, not even with a red alert ringing in his ears.

“Thank you, Imperial Majesty,” he murmured, bending into a low bow. Light years away his “body,” a non-combat avatar, bowed before the Emperor as he swept from the room, followed by his entourage. Tarrick curled his lip at the soft-bodied, useless courtiers, safe in the knowledge the bot didn’t have the facial muscles to pick up the movement. Straightening, he brought the bot back to a stable position and released his hold on it.

Instantly, he was back on an uplink couch in the pilots lounge. Tearing the headset off, he looked up. Other recliners surrounded him in rows. They were all occupied, each warrior wearing an identical headset to remotely pilot the avatars.

A yell from the other side of the room made his head snap around. A warrior fell from his couch, tearing his headset off as he went. “Fuck, avatar down! There are too many of them.”

“What the hell is going on?” he demanded, levering himself up and handing his headset off to the warrior hovering next to him. Before the impression of his body had smoothed from the padded surface of the couch, the other man slid onto it and put the headset on, the visor covering his eyes. A second later, lights flashed active on the front, the red and blue lights showing a local link rather than the subspace link Tarrick had used.

“The T’Laat attacked,” Jassyn, waiting by the door, informed him. “Hit us hard and fast…took the women. They’re fighting a ferocious rear-guard action that’s slowing us.”

Tarrick froze as fear lanced the center of his chest and his body forgot to breathe. Varish T’Laat had Cat. The thought of his little human in that monster’s clutches… He gritted his teeth. Varish’s reputation preceded him. Ruthless and determined in battle, he was sadistic and vicious in more intimate pursuits. So much so, most pleasure facilities refused to take his credit. Only those that catered to specific…tastes would allow him and his men entry.