Her Alien Bodyguard: The Guards of Attala: Book One Page 2

  “Switch to thermal view.” That does the trick, and I fight back a gasp.

  I don’t know who they are, but they’re coming fast. On foot, from what I can tell. I hit the comms button on my suit. “Ladies, we’ve got company.” I wish I’d thought to grab a blaster on my way out the airlock, but I was more concerned with diplomacy than personal safety.

  “I haven’t been able to hail the Attalans,” Margo’s voice is clear in my helmet and I hear the worry in her voice. “I don’t know if it’s them.”

  I don’t know either. They Attalans we’ve been communicating with are small, humanoid, and technologically advanced. The men approaching us appear human like, but that’s where the similarities end.

  In college, I dated the center on our basketball team. He bumped up against seven feet and was always the tallest guy in the room. He would have been the short one in this group. And I can’t help but notice their lack of clothing in sub zero temperatures. And the scraps they are wearing appear more…primal in nature. Leather breech cloths, thick metal belts and boots, and fur-trimmed capes.

  It’s hard to focus too much on the details when my main concerns are the sheer number of them and the speed at which they’re approaching. There’s at least thirty of them and they’ve halved the distance between us in a matter of minutes. I’ve never seen people move that fast, Olympic marathoners included.

  My first though is to retreat, but there’s no way I’ll make it back to the airlock in time. I’m on my own. I stand tall and ready myself to face them.

  TWO

  MALLYK

  WE RUN IN FORMATION, as we always do in the wild lands. Safety in numbers is our creed whenever we venture into the wintery hell outside the city walls. Our weapons may have become more advances over the years, but we still rely on the fighting tactics developed by our ancestors: stay alert, work as one, and use our surroundings to our advantage. These strategies have protected us for generations. The hive mentality of the guard is what has always kept the people of the city safe. We live as a group, fight as a group, and die as a group. We are truly brothers.

  I run at the front of the formation; it’s my place as commander of the guard. I set the pace and our direction. I lead the men, as I have for several years now. It’s a position that has given me comfort and a sense of worth.

  Others struggle to find their path in this life but mine has always been clear. When I was a boy, other children inside the walls were terrified of the fierce warriors that lived outside the city and kept us safe. I dreamed of joining them. When I was unclaimed as a mate by my twenty fifth birthday, my fate was sealed and my wish was granted.

  Some men struggle when they join the guard, because the life of an Attalan warrior is mostly defined by things you’ll never have. A home inside the city walls. A family. The pleasure of a woman’s touch. Exile and celibacy aren’t easy things to deal with. The stress can lead to one hell of an adjustment period. Not for me.

  Until now.

  I feel uncertainty for the first time. Because my one true mate is close. I can feel it in my soul. And my cock. I feel an urge, an almost undeniable need, to forge ahead as fast as I can. A primal need to reach our destination that I don’t understand. The invisible pull doesn’t let up – it only increases in intensity as the downed ship comes into view. I increase the pace of my run until I’m nearly sprinting.

  The rest of the warriors match my speed easily. We’re made differently than the rest of the Attalans. In exchange for our service as members of the guard, we receive something extraordinary: gene therapy that enhances our abilities. Stamina, strength, enhanced vision, uncanny hearing. Even our ability to smell is heightened. With a single injection, we become the most elite warriors on the planet. All we have to give up is the rest of our lives.

  I’ve never questioned my choice until now.

  One human stands outside the ship. Most beings panic when faced with the approach of a full unit of the Attalan guard. But the Earthling stands still as a statue, awaiting our arrival. I wonder if the Attalans inside the city have been able to make contact with the ship. I realize too late that our hurried approach could be somewhat alarming for the Earth visitors, if the city has not contacted them yet. My feet skid across the ice as I slow to a sudden halt and motion to my men to hold their position. They stand at attention awaiting my next command.

  I extend my hands, palms out, in a nonthreatening manner and approach the human. I struggle to project calmness, which is a challenge with my heart pounding like the mighty Attalan ceremonial drums. I should be focused solely on diplomacy and safety, but I can’t help wondering where my mate is.

  I slowly walk toward the space-suit-clad visitor. I assume he’s the leader, and his smallness alarms me. These visitors will require more assistance than I imagined, on our harsh planet. I extend my hand, as I have been told is their greeting custom, and step closer. I address their representative, thankful for the language chip implanted into every member of the Guard that allows me to communicate in any language.

  “Greetings, from all Attalans.” Time slows to a crawl while I wait for him to return the greeting.

  There’s a mechanical click followed by the sound of air escaping, and I’m suddenly face to face with the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen in my life, human or Attalan. Enormous grey eyes teeming with intelligence and determination. Plump pink lips the color of a juicy planchet berry. And silky brown hair that falls in thick waves. She’s done what the 20 mile sprint hasn’t: set my heart racing. And I know that she’s the one. She’s my mate.

  I don’t hear a damn thing. It feels like the blood is draining from my face, which makes sense when I realize how hard I’m becoming. My thick cock pushes painfully against my unyielding armor around my hips. I praise the Gods, happy, for once, to be wearing it. At least my aroused state isn’t obvious to the others.

  “I’m Captain Diana Bennet. You must be Minister LaMox,” she says as she takes my giant hand in her small gloved one. Her voice reminds me of a Valencian songbird. I stare dumbly at her for half a second longer than I should before I respond.

  “No, I am Mallyk, Commander of the Guard. I did not mean to frighten you.” I release her hand and take a step back, even though all I want to do is taker her in my arms and kiss those delectable lips. “The Minister sent us to collect you and deliver you safely inside the wall.”

  She crosses her arms over her chest and juts out her adorable chin. “We’re not going anywhere until our ship is repaired.”

  “No.” It comes out more harshly than I intended, but in truth, I’m used to barking orders and having them obeyed. But I must try to be more tender with this small Earthling. “The Minister wants you brought inside the wall immediately, for your safety. It’s not negotiable.”

  “You’re damn right it’s not.” She shakes her head furiously. “All the supplies we need to harvest the Eclaydian are aboard the ship. It’s the entire reason we left our homes on Earth and flew across the galaxy to get here.”

  “We can come back for it,” I say, but the offer sounds hollow and I know she’ll refuse it.

  “I don’t have time to waste,” she says.

  I appreciate her spirit; but she doesn’t understand the dangers of our world. There’s no way I’m leaving her crew out here to deal with the Salthu or the wanderers. “Very well,” I say. “Point to what you need and we’ll carry it.”

  Her eyes widen and her mouth falls open. She struggles to speak, but no words come out. Until, finally, they do.

  “It’s heavy!” She yells it as if I am simple minded.

  “Then we’ll have Brutus carry it.” I motion to the enormous Attalan at the rear of the formation and the rest of the guards laugh.

  She throws her arms up in defeat. “Perfect. We’ll just attach a tow rope to the mobile lab and a few of your guys can start hauling it.”

  I’m pleased until I realize, from the look on her face, that she’s mocking me. “It’s over three tons of eq
uipment!” She stabs at the air with her finger as she lectures me. “And an entire mobile lab. You’re going to have to fly your own ships out here to load everything.”

  “Our technological advances do not work beyond the city walls. Otherwise we would have brought the crafts to collect you, instead of running 20 miles in the snow.” Does she think we ran all this way for amusement?

  “Great.” She takes several deep breaths to slow her heaving chest. I wish she could – her heaving breasts are quite the distraction. “Well, our planet is going to turn into a chunk of ice unless we get moving, so you’ll forgive me if I have a sense of urgency.” She puts her hands on her hips and turns back to her ship.

  Something stirs within me. “It’s not a request, Captain. You don’t understand our planet. Salthu, cast outs, slave traders. There’s a whole bunch of shit out here you and your crew are not equipped to deal with.”

  She looks back over her shoulder and her voice is tight and tense. “We can handle ourselves.” With that, she starts marching back toward the airlock on her ship.

  My only priority is keeping the Earthlings safe. And nobody is safe outside the city walls. Especially once night falls and dusk is rapidly approaching. I try to imagine them, a small group of Earth women, defending themselves against an attack from the Salthu, and every version of the story I come up with ends with them as breeder slaves, sold at the market in the scavenger outpost. The thought of it makes me furious.

  I move without thinking. She has a head start, but I’m much taller than and reach her in four easy strides. My hand curls around her upper arm. She whirls around to face me.

  “What do you think you’re-”

  She let’s out an indignant yelp as I lift her and easily throw her over my shoulder. Her fists pound against my back, but my winter cloak softens the blow. She struggles mightily, but she doesn’t have a chance and I have to be careful not to hurt her. She doesn’t understand our strength or stamina. The thought of giving her a lesson in both spreads a warmth over my body.

  The soft wriggling of her body only makes me harder. I’ve long taken pride in my cleverness, but right now, my instincts are kicking in and biology is taking over. All I care about at this moment is keeping her safe.

  Two of her crew mates sprint from the airlock, rushing to her aid. They’re as small and frail looking as she is. I’m annoyed and impressed all at the same time.

  My second in command, Ozmyx, isn’t a warrior who’s rattled easily, but he looks utterly flabbergasted by my behavior. Then, with a wry smile, he follows my lead. He grabs the first Earth woman who rushes past him around the waist and hoists her over his shoulder. He motions for another warrior to collect the remaining woman intent on rushing us.

  I turn to one of our newer recruits, an ambitious one with a level head. I know he’s eager to prove himself. “Lodyn, night is approaching and a storm is heading towards us. We have no time to waste.” I plant my hand on his shoulder and give him an encouraging squeeze. “We will begin our return, to secure the safety of our visitors. Take a few men of your choosing and search the rest of the ship. Gather any other survivors and have them point out the personal effects they need. Rejoin us as soon as you can.”

  Diana pummels me with her fists and screams like a banshee as I deliver my orders, but all I notice is the pleasant weight of her on my shoulder. I give the order, and we begin the march back to the city. I should be scanning the horizon, watching for predators as we race for the protection of the wall. Instead, as she struggles against my grasp, my only thought is will she be as fierce when she’s underneath me?

  THREE

  DIANA

  I TRY to maintain my composure. To take stock of the situation. Which, for the record, isn’t good. Natalie, who was hauled out of the ship moments after we were grabbed, screams in pain every time she’s jostled. We have no supplies, and we just abandoned our only way off this planet. Forget saving Earth, we’re having a hard enough time saving ourselves.

  I teeter on the edge of despair, but I know I need to rally. People are counting on us. I need to regroup. Communicate and coordinate with my team members. Plan my moment to strike.

  But it’s difficult to focus. Because I still can’t wrap my mind around this enormous alien jackass who thinks it’s acceptable to throw me over his shoulder and take off like we’re reenacting some sort of “Me Tarzan, you Jane” scenario. I’m mad as hell we’re being treated like this. All I care about is making sure my crew members are safe, and getting back to the ship to make repairs and rescue Margo. I can’t let this stand.

  It’s time to fight.

  “Who do you think you are, you son of a bitch.” I swing my leg back and kick as hard as I can, but he doesn’t even flinch when my boot meets the flesh of his stomach. I’m the one who grunts in pain – it feels like I’ve kicked a concrete wall. I’m still slung over his back and he’s covered me with his cape. The extra warmth is nice, but I can’t see where the hell we’re going. His body is hard as stone, and, up close, I can see a faint white and blue pattern all over his skin. I let my face rest against him, expecting his flesh to be cold as ice, but instead it’s pleasantly warm. Much warmer than ours, and I have to fight the urge to relax against him.

  “This will be much easier for both of us if you cooperate,” he says. No way on God’s green Earth, pal. My foot still throbs, but I draw my leg bag for a second strike. His enormous warm hand cups my lower back, steadying me against his shoulder. He slides it lower, over my ass and thighs to still my legs before I can strike again. His movement is with purpose, but I swear I can feel his hand linger over the curve of my ass. I don’t know what infuriates me more: that he would dare to touch me in such a familiar way, or the fact that it turns me on. My face is so red, I’m momentarily glad he can’t see it.

  “Put me down, you Neanderthal.” I claw at his back but he doesn’t respond. “We need to get back to our ship and the crew mate you left behind.”

  “It’s too dangerous to remain with your ship. It will be dark soon, and we need to be in the city to ensure your safety.” He gives my bottom a casual pat. “And do not worry, Lodyn will extricate your crew member soon enough and rendezvous with us behind the wall.”

  I think about Margo for a moment and hope she’s having better luck than we are. I hate that we’ve been separated just as much as I hate the feeling that I’m not in charge right now. It’s maddening to me that he doesn’t understand why we’re here.

  “The only reason we spent months flying across the galaxy to this planet is to harvest your Eclaydian and transform it into a power supply for our sun. How are we supposed to do any of that without the supplies from our ship? Or the mobile lab that’s onboard? Or the climbing equipment?” I have to shout to make myself heard over the bracing wind.

  “We will provide you with what is needed. Once we reach the city. Our scientists have been working on items you’ll need to survive your trip to our mountains, along with tools to help you harvest this mineral you seek.”

  “Well, we’re still going to need the damn ship if we want to fly home again.” He chuckles, and I hate that he’s amused by me.

  “And that’s why I’ll talk to our Minister about sending a contingent of Guards to assist in the protection and repair of your spacecraft.” He pauses and shifts how he holds me, redistributing my weight on his shoulders. “Now, stop fighting and cooperate with your rescue, woman.”

  “Put me down,” I command. “I’m perfectly capable of walking on my own.” Even though he is moving at a swift jog that I know I can’t keep up with. Not with the number of miles we’ve already covered. I want to check on the rest of my team, though, and I can’t do that from over his shoulder. Mina and Savannah are being carried just as crudely, thrown over the shoulders of some of the warriors running behind us. All of this running makes me worry about Natalie. She’s at least being carried but all of the jostling has to hurt her leg like hell.

  “That’s the problem – we don’t h
ave time for walking. And your frail species certainly doesn’t have the physique for running.”

  “Frail? Are you kidding me? I’m the captain of the space ship and the leader of this expedition. Do you know how many men I had to beat out for the job?” I push against his back with my elbows and try to leverage myself up to look around. It’s like pushing against granite. My frustration threatens to bubble to the surface. “Let go of me, dammit!” “Stop fighting and I will.” The worst part is, I wish I could stop fighting. There’s some deep primal part of me that just wants to relax and be carried to safety. The prehistoric part of my brain that could would be happy to hand off all the responsibility I’ve shouldered for the past months over to someone else. But, it’s up to me to fix everything. Time to get crafty.

  “Ughhhh!” I relax on his shoulder, like a lamb. A lamb who’s ready to transform into a tiger when the right moment comes. It takes a while, a solid mile or two, before he pauses, lifts me from his shoulder, and deposits me gingerly on the ground.

  “Take a moment to check on your crew members, if you wish. We’ll have our healer tend to your injured colleague as soon as we arrive, but she seems to be in a fair amount of discomfort at the moment.”

  “Thank you,” I say as he guides me by the elbow. But I have other plans. I figure the family jewels are a tender spot in any species, so I aim for the leather loincloth under his thick metal belt. I can tell my boot connects when his cry of pain echoes throughout the valley. My bodyguard is at least twice my size, with superhuman strength and endurance, and I’ve just pissed him off. I’m suddenly second guessing my plan. I need to get the hell out of here. And fast.

  I head in the opposite direction, back to the ship, I think. But I’m not entirely certain. The locator device strapped to my wrist is fritzing in and out and I can’t get a clear reading. We’ve passed no landmarks, and I make it about 40 feet before our tracks are erased by the blowing snow. And then it hits me. There’s nowhere to run. I’ve always prided myself on being a planner, but this wasn’t one of my better courses of action. His men still have my friends, and I don’t want to leave them. I don’t even really want to get away from him. He’s right – there’s no way I’d survive out here without their help. I think I just wanted to show him that I’m not the weak human woman he thinks I am. That, in spite of his strength, I could still best him if needed.