‘Let me see.’ Fiercely stormed around their huddle and bent at the waist. He stared. Backed away and shuddered, rocking as his four fists clenched and unclenched. ‘No egg.’
‘Is anybody listening to me?’
The lack of an egg wasn’t important. She was giving birth to the first human-Rä hybrid millions of light years away from the comforts of home.
She had to smile through the pain.
Their nervousness made the organ in her chest swell to bursting.
She was in love with them.
She was so happy.
So fucking hot her head was going to explode into pink rain.
Ripping off her softsuit with a reedy gasp, she tossed it behind her. She wept relief at the air kissing her skin, but as Rök was a desert planet, it was humid even in their cooler, darker inner lair.
Venomous One exploded into the room, grinning from spiky ear to spiky ear. He dropped to his knees cupped her puffing cheeks. ‘Lean on me.’
Lumen pressed her cheek to his rumbling throat. Clutched at his armoured back with clawed fingers.
She watched over his shoulder as body after body came through the doorway and filled the room. The spicy scent of Rä flesh permeated the crammed space. Shimmering scales in jewel hues glinted in the soft light from the glister creep growing along the rounded crystal ceiling. She could hear more voices in the hallway, in the living room. Lumen didn’t care. She thought she’d be embarrassed, but she was in so much agony, she just did not give a shit.
Concern for her friend had her mumbling incoherently. ‘Wyn should be here. Worried. He’s on Earth. Where is my ice? Oh, he’s such a bastard.’
Rather than force her to focus on her labour, Venomous knew her well enough to understand she needed his silent support and to let her ramble.
Absorbing her mate’s calm, Lumen’s frown eased as the haze of agony gripping her middle passed. ‘You’re right. How much trouble could he cause? Wyn’s just a marauding King who smites his foes and beds their virgin daughters–.’ She yelled into the bulging muscle in the crook of his shoulder, another contraction forcing her to push. Stopping to breathe, she cried, ‘What have I done? Why didn’t you stop me when I came up with the horrendous idea to give him the coordinates to Earth?’ She bit his throat on a strangled scream.
‘But, my Lumen, I recall you begging me to trust you.’
‘What happens?’ demanded He, who is Widowed Wind Dancer, her father by mating. He waved a hand. ‘I hear lots of noise but see no egg.’
‘Fuck you and your bloody eggs.’
‘There is no egg,’ Fiercely explained with great authority to the general murmur from the anxious crowd. ‘Our offspring claws free. That is why there is is a giant black hole between her thighs.’
‘Crowning,’ she squeaked. ‘It’s call–Oh, buggering hell.’ Bearing down, all Lumen’s muscles clenched. When it passed, a wave of exhaustion swept over her. It wasn’t good, she knew it, feared it. She gripped Venomous. ‘Tell me.’
‘You are mine to protect.’ His body trembled with her screams. ‘You are mine to shelter, mine to feed and mine to cover.’ His voice was hoarse. ‘When you are weak….’ He placed a hand on her bloated stomach and felt it roll beneath his palm. His mind blanked.
‘We shall be your strength.’ Fiercely knelt at their side. ‘You were stolen from your world by your captors.’
Cobra joined them. ‘Now your survival is our responsibility.’
Sweat ran down Lumen’s face. Her stinging eyes scrunched shut.
‘It is your duty to endure my lust, respect my nest-mates and honour our union with offspring.’ Venomous’ timbre lowered. His breathing hitched. ‘I revere you giver of life as is the way.’
Fiercely nodded. ‘As is the way.’
‘As is the way,’ Cobra whispered.
Lumen felt the words vibrate within her soul. She wailed at the tearing pain between her legs and with a sudden release of pressure, she gasped and straightened, eyes popping wide. ‘Did…did I just shit everywhere?’
Whispers of awe came from the watching crowd.
Cobra muttered praise as a slimy body slid free and into his waiting arms.
A mighty wail split the air.
Startled, the human female who had travelled so far from home peeked over her shoulder. Her mouth hung open because the strident noise bouncing off the walls came from her newborn son.
Raspy screams filled the room. The circle of kindred recoiled.
Fiercely drew his dagger. He hissed menacingly. ‘Parasite.’
‘Umbilical cord.’ Lumen slapped his weapon hand down. She winced as the last of the pain diminished to a low throbbing with the mass she pulled from between her legs. ‘This is disgusting and humiliating,’ she announced to the room at large. ‘Childbirth is painful and gross.’ She’d be having nightmares for weeks. She held up the hot pulp for their viewing pleasure. Served them right. ‘Fiercely? This is the afterbirth attached to the cord, see, no parasite.’ When her second mate blenched and gagged, turning his face, she sighed, handing it over to an eager-to-help grandfather for disposal. ‘We discussed this.’
‘When?’ Fiercely demanded. He jostled a transfixed Cobra to get a better look at the hatchling. ‘Was I meditating? Asleep? I remember none of these discussions.’ He peered at the vulnerable life cradled in his nest-mate’s palm.
Tears pricking her eyes, Lumen lay her head on his shoulder. Her eyes closed when he stroked her hair, so gently, she knew he was proud of her even as he grumped and complained.
She was exhausted, only stirring faintly when she felt Venomous cleaning her up a bit so she could lie down.
Wind Dancer handed them a bowl of tepid water. His hands shook, splashing the contents on the polished feldspar. His gaze fixed onto his grandson, already brimming with zealous adoration. ‘Here. Human skin is fragile, yesss? The cloth is soft.’
Cobra painstakingly wiped the squirming bundle free of the greasy white substance, paying attention to the streaks squished between the joints of his limbs, and the stretch of sensitive skin of his upper and lower arms.
Vivid green scales shimmered with a distinct ripple of dark gold. Onyx brille snapped from his eyelids to hide slitted silver pupils; the brilliant hazel irises ringed in a jagged circle of arctic blue.
Their kindred ululated, raising their voices in celebratory song.
‘His anima presents but moments after mine.’ Venomous swelled with pride, his grin toothy and luminous.
Cobra crooned. ‘We bore a warrior.’
Lumen cracked an eyelid. ‘We?’
Fiercely’s chest puffed. ‘He favours me. Does he not look like me?’
‘Of course.’ Her mouth twitched. ‘The splitting image.’ She had long ago realised they perceived parental status differently than she was used too.
‘Name him,’ Wind Dancer whispered, trembling as his nest-mate hugged him to share the joy.
‘He, Bravest who Dares,’ Venomous said. He touched his mouth to his offspring’s wrinkled crown.
‘Bravest,’ Cobra murmured.
‘I do not like it,’ stated Fiercely baldly. ‘What do you think, my Rä’Na?’
‘Who? Me? Wow. Thank you for consulting me during this momentous decision.’ Opening her eyes and smiling so wide her cheeks ached, Lumen watched her mates fall in love. She stroked her son’s cheek, feeling the gentle abrasion of dark green-gold scales. ‘What do you think of your name, my darling?’ Brave gurgled. ‘I know, I know.’ She cocked her head then leant to rub her nose to his. ‘Your uncle Wyn sucks as a birthing partner.’
Venomous held his hatchling in his arms and marvelled. His mate’s fingers tapped at the sleek device the Verak King had sent. ‘Stop fretting.’
‘I know, I know.’ She slapped at the glass screen. ‘I won’t be happy until I’ve managed to get hold of him.’
‘You should be nesting,’ Cobra said for the tenth time in a span.
‘I’m fine. My lesser mate fixed
me up good as new. Besides, I wanted to be here when Brave saw his first sunrise.’ She scowled at the SonCom as the curve of the sun crested the desolate horizon.
‘You worry more over a grown male than our hatchling.’ Fiercely stroked the crinkled, sensitive sole of Bravest’s foot.
‘Our hatchling has three fathers, a troop of grandparents and a legion of devoted secondary caregivers.’ She gave him a pointed look. ‘It’d take an act of God for my son to stub a toe.’ She huffed and trawled a hand through her fluffy hair. ‘I’m sorry. I’m stressing when I should be all dewy-eyed, but something deep inside my heart is telling me that Wyn…needs me to yell at him.’
Cobra chuckled.
The SonCom bleeped, and then came the irritating noise of rustling over the loudspeaker. ‘Yes,’ Lumen crowed. ‘Finally. Hello? Beowyn, is that you?’
‘Lumen?’ A gruff rumble rolled down the connection spanning millions of light-years. ‘Are you receiving me?’
‘Yes, I was really worried about you.’ She let loose. ‘Why the hell are you on Earth when you are supposed to be here helping me give birth?’
‘You already have laboured,’ Fiercely said. ‘Now you start a fight for nothing.’
Hand over the mouthpiece, Lumen hissed at him. ‘He doesn’t know that.’
He snapped his teeth at her.
‘We celebrate the day we understand you, my hearts,’ muttered Cobra.
There was a pause of crackling static. ‘Lumen?’ Beowyn sounded confused. ‘Are you there?’
‘Yes,’ she cried. ‘Hear me now?’
‘Try me later.’ Loud thuds and thumps blotted his voice. ‘Bad frequency,’ he said some distance from the receiver. ‘She sounded mean.’
‘She is probably made at you. You promised to bring her ice.’
‘But the offspring took forever to come. I needed to seek my One. Do you think she will be angry for long? No matter. I will message her soon enough with good news for I have decided.’
‘We are not conquering this planet.’
‘No, no. I am taking the female as is my right.’
A lengthy sigh. ‘Very well.’
‘I shall seize her the ancient way. It will be glorious.’
‘It will be as you say.’
‘There is nowhere on this backwater planet she might hide from me. I will hunt her down, capture her, and fill her with my mighty seed. When she grows fat with cub, she will comprehend the passionate depths of my devotion.’
‘Your One deserves the best wooing.’
Arm extended, Lumen stared at the device in her hand in horror.
‘I will take her home to Vayhalun, gift her a harem, and she will confess everlasting adoration for me.’
‘This human female…are you sure this is what you want? The Ambassador gave us a list. I believe abduction was on the do not side of things.’
‘Of course, I am sure. What could go wrong?’
‘Wyn!’ Lumen screeched into the microphone.
More rustling, heavy breathing. ‘Lumen?’
‘Listen to me. So much can go wrong; it’s not even funny.’
‘Is she there?’ the male voice asked.
‘I hear nothing but fragments. It is my fault. I meant to close the frequency.’
‘Wyn?’ Lumen jerked onto her feet causing Cobra to start and urge her back down. ‘No, wait. Wyn!’
He’d disconnected.
Lumen stared blindly at her SonCom. She sank back onto her behind then lifted her head to watch the first sun send tendrils of orange, red and purple across the indigo ether. ‘Everything is not under control,’ she mumbled.
Cobra nuzzled the side of her head, the edges of his sapphire scales picking up the golden hue of the dawn. All four of his hands moved over her body checking she had not done herself injury after her jerky motions.
Brille aimed towards his son, Fiercely sniffed at her understatement, but reached to brush the back of a lower hand with hers, offering comfort.
‘Peace, my Rä’Na.’ Venomous shifted closer so she could watch their swaddled hatchling yawn, revealing rows of pearly sharp teeth. ‘All is well.’
Bursting with pride as his offspring curled a hand around his claw, his nest-mates crowding close and his mate’s gentle hand pressed to his chest over his hearts, He, Venomous One thanked the stars for his Lumen, and sent a prayer to Grandfather for the Verak King.
Chapter 1
‘Evening, lass.’ Stride brisk to keep pace with his snuffling hound, Trilby Hat bobbed a nod. His breath was a white puff above his tartan snood. ‘See them clouds? Snow soon, aye?’
‘Mebbe.’ Cold nipped at my throat and turned my ears red. I smiled as I shared the pavement with man and dog. I gave the inquisitive Sheltie a rub behind the ears. ‘Night.’
‘Bye for now.’ Trilby Hat and dog turned the corner.
Shoving my hands into my coat pockets, I quickened my pace, glancing over my shoulder at the empty street.
Town Centre was quiet, and passing traffic had reduced to a car every half hour. Walking from my job at Charlie Clucking Chicken to my flat took twenty minutes at a stroll. It was a five-minute jaunt by car but petrol prices soared, and I needed to conserve money.
Aside from the financial benefit of forgoing my rusted vehicle, the exercise kept me from looking gaunt.
My shape trended towards skinny.
Weedsmuir was a forgotten, sleepy Scottish border village home to a red sandstone parish. There wasn’t a high street, but a collection of local businesses passed down generation after generation. It boasted a butcher, a greengrocer with postal annexe, a bakery, a busy funeral home, and one fried chicken takeaway. The last crime reported to the provincial police stationed the next town over was a year past, a robbery by an octogenarian suffering dementia who escaped while visiting the funeral home. He’d stolen a roll of soft mints from the post office to tuck into his wife’s coffin. The bi-monthly Gazette declared it a crime of passion and included a poll. Residents were sixty-forty in favour of the gentleman being locked up. Weedsmuir might be stodgy, plonked in a valley and full of hardcore elderly, but it was safe. Walking home was the same at midday or midnight.
So why did I feel as if someone followed me?
Each time I looked behind, there was nothing, but I knew I heard footsteps. The cap I wore obscured my vision, but I could see fine when I turned my head. My eyes told me one thing, and my remaining senses another.
My hands fisted inside my coat pockets. The evening shift had been long, and I was tired. ‘I must be imagining things.’ Saying it aloud had little effect on my fears of being stalked.
Coughing into my shoulder, spooked, I picked up the pace until my breaths came short and sharp.
I heard the telltale sounds of heels hitting pavement directly behind me.
Blood roared in my ears, and I spun on a cry with my arms coming up to protect my face, but there was nothing.
No footsteps, no attack.
Empty street.
Swallowing, I strained to listen as I fought panic and lowered my hands. Something simply was not right. I wasn’t prone to nervous fits or delusions.
Something watched me.
The hairs on the nape of my neck stood on end. A shift in the shadows to my left had my head jerking. ‘Hello?’
A tabby darted across the street.
Blaspheming, I ran a shaky hand over my cap. ‘You daftie.’
The grey cat scaled a fence, turning to hiss nastily before jumping into the darkness of a garden. The unfriendly departure wouldn’t have frightened me if the cat’s gaze had been on me instead of beyond my shoulder.
Pulse leaping to match my pounding heart, I whirled around ready to scream.
No one and nothing was there.
The smell of rotting garbage mixed with wet concrete flooded my cold nose. I scanned the rain-slicked road and building fascias. My eyes darted. My breath was a choppy rasp. ‘Hello?’ The call wobbled and echoed. Smooth from years of foot traffic
, cobblestones reflected the orange glow from street lights flanking the pavement. A sheet of newspaper and a shredded plastic bag danced with the wind, trapped between the iron bars walling off an alleyway.
Forcing myself to get a grip, I walked. I made it home in one piece, taking the time to peer out the stained glass fitted into the communal entrance.
Satisfied nothing was there, I sorted through the pile of envelopes stuffed into the letter rack and snagged any addressed to me. Tromping up the rickety stairs, I slipped my hand into my jeans pocket to grab my keys. The door creaked as it opened and closed.
The air inside was roasting, and I worried over my gas bill.
‘About time, missy.’
‘Very sorry, Mrs Tait.’ Stuffing the mail under my sweaty armpit, I fished out five grubby twenty-pound notes from my weekly cash-in-hand salary. I handed them over with a thin smile. ‘Had a wee scare. I thought someone followed me, so I took a detour.’
Mollified at the sight of cash, the wrinkled crone snatched her earnings away from me. ‘I have a life to live. You don’t pay me well enough to be late as often as you are.’ Coat, scarf and hat in place, she shuffled towards the door in her flat-soled orthopaedics. ‘Better not happen again. Sick and tired of your excuses.’
I gritted a smile. ‘See you Monday.’ The door shut. ‘Miserable old bat.’
Tapping the mail against my forehead, I sighed then went about divesting myself of my jacket and shoes.
I stepped on a stray toy building block.
I rose from my foetal position on the carpet then hobbled into the kitchen, a narrow rectangular space where culinary dreams went to die.
It housed a gurgling fridge, a tarnished sink that moaned when the hot water ran, and a greasy freestanding oven. I hated it. An acrid burning smell wafted from it whenever I used it for longer than fifteen minutes. My landlord claimed the appliance in peak working condition. ‘The stink is factory chemicals burning off.’ He’d hitched his tool belt higher up his rotund middle.