CAPTURED: 9 Alpha Bad-Boys(42)

Megan bit her lip. "I'm sorry. I didn't know." It would explain why he'd never spoken of his upbringing.

Tren shrugged, his face expressionless. "My father died when my brother  and I were still young. A failed mission. My mother succumbed to an  injury over ten planetary cycles ago."

"You still have your brother, though, even if you don't currently get along."

"Only because we promised our mother not to kill each other," he growled, pacing the bridge.

"Maybe you can patch things up." It bothered her to see him so agitated  and to discover he was just as alone in the universe as she was.

"Enough. I will not speak of this further." He held up a hand to forestall any further commentary on her part.

"Incoming message from the galactic council." The computer's voice interrupted them.

Tren's brows drew together. "What in frukx do they want? They know I am retired."

"Who's the galactic council?" Megan asked. "And what did you retire from?"

"None of your affair. You'll have to leave so I can hear the message.  I've left the package with your new garments in our quarters."

Megan knew a brushoff when she heard it. It still annoyed her. She began  to walk toward the elevator when he caught her and spun her around.  Drawing her up on tiptoe, he kissed her; a hard bruising embrace that  stole her breath.

She didn't say anything when he let her down, just stared at his eyes  which glowed with intensity. "I will be along shortly. I expect to see  you wearing something new. Or else," he warned with a wink.

Megan blew him a raspberry in reply which made him chuckle. Smiling  herself, she left him, entering the elevator that would take her back to  his quarters. As she exited into the corridor, a tremor rocked the  ship, and Megan braced her hand against the wall.

What the fuck was that?

An alarm sounded which didn't reassure her, but not as badly as the frisson of fear that struck her when the lights went out.         

     



 

Megan froze, surrounded by pitch black. Somehow she doubted this boded  well, a belief that tripled when she heard a scuffling sound echoing  somewhere in the corridor with her.

"Tren?" She hated the quaver in her voice. However, she forgave herself in this instance. Seriously, the situation warranted it.

Nobody replied, but the skin on her nape prickled, announcing the fact  she shared the dark hall with someone-or something else. She reached at  her waist for her needle only to curse silently as her hand didn't  locate it. She'd left it in the bridge during her wait for Tren.

A whisper of sound from behind made her whirl, not that she could see  anything. She punched forward with her fists and was rewarded with  contact and a grunt, but her feeble blow didn't stop the fabric from  getting pulled over her head, or the prick in her arm.

"Tren's going to fucking kill you for touching his merchandise," she  slurred to her unseen attacker before slumping to the floor unconscious.





Chapter Ten

Tren stood for a moment watching the elevator door, wishing he could  follow Megan instead of wasting time listening to a message he had no  interest in.

But I will not chase after a female. Brave words that made him sigh and  his cock sulk. "Play the message from the council," he ordered aloud to  the computer.

He'd no sooner settled into his chair than the screen lit up with the  galactic council crest, but the face that appeared immediately after had  him jumping from his seat and growling.

"Z'nistakn, what the frukx do you want?"

The green scaled humanoid flicked a forked tongue and chuckled, a  gravelly, wet sound. "I want what I always have, your head on a platter,  and your entrails on my plate."

Tren smiled coldly. "Threats? Are you really so stupid? I could use a new pair of boots."

The councilor hissed and his slitted yellow eyes narrowed. "First, you'd have to find me, filthy mercenary."

"Don't tempt me," he replied not letting on that he already knew the  location of the corrupt councilor's supposed safe base. Tren wondered  what Z'nistakn was truly after. Idle chitchat didn't seem like his usual  style.

"I have a job for you."

And now they got to the true point of the call. "I'm retired."

"Surely you could make an exception. I would make it worth your while." The reptile drummed his clawed fingers on his armrest.

Tren wanted to reach through the view screen and throttle the creature.  He'd disliked the dishonest galactic councilor for quite some time, a  feeling reciprocated, and yet Z'nistakn still called upon his services  even though Tren kept declining. "I'm busy."

"So I've heard. Cavorting with a human female. I thought you enjoyed better taste."

Tren restrained himself from growling. What did he care if the slimy  councilor insulted Megan? She simply satisfied a need. "Find another  mercenary to do your dirty work. I'm not interested."

The councilor's forked tongue flicked out again, and he sighed with  exaggeration. "Well, I am glad to hear it isn't the barbarian female  making you soft. In that case, you won't miss her then."

Before Tren could retort, an explosion jarred his ship and Z'nistakn  chortled. Tren cut the communication and moved even as his computer  warned him.

"Rear hatch blown. Unauthorized life forms boarding. Sealing-"

An invisible pulse made the air around him waver and sent a shiver  through his body. The voice of the machine abruptly cut off as the power  supply to his vessel died and pitched him into darkness. Very little  could incapacitate his vessel, but the well-aimed electromagnetic pulse  would temporarily throw everything offline. His whole system would  reboot with an astral quarter unit.

"Frukx!" Tren cursed aloud, but didn't remain still. He needed to get to  Megan. The dark didn't bother him. He'd long ago gotten the visual  enhancements that allowed him to see better than most nocturnal  creatures. He also wouldn't let a paltry thing, such as a lack of power,  keep him from Megan. Not when she needs me.

As he pried up the hatch in the elevator floor, he called himself all  kinds of names for stopping at this way station and not remaining more  on guard. Usually nobody or anything could get close enough to his ship  to do damage, but he'd allowed the repair crew to do so and without  supervision. Under normal circumstances, he oversaw all adjustments;  however, this time, he'd found himself preoccupied with one feisty  female. A lesson learned that he wouldn't repeat.

In the meantime, he needed to rectify his error, and quickly. Megan faced danger, alone.

Unacceptable.

Tren moved quickly down the laddered rungs in the elevator shaft,  mentally counting until he reached the correct floor. He pried the doors  open and dove into the corridor, ducking into a roll as he drew his  guns. He ended up on one knee with both his arms extended, his guns  primed to fire.

However, of Megan, he saw nothing. Going on instinct, he bypassed his  quarters and ran for the other end of the corridor where the lesser used  secondary elevator shaft resided. The gaping maw of its opening made  him run faster, and he flew down the ladder. He navigated the warren of  tunnels and utility shafts on the lowest level, easily locating the  blown hatch the attackers used to force their way in. He ducked through  the ragged opening and emerged into the work bubble erected around the  lower thruster section as the garage performed repairs.

Peering around, Tren's jaw tightened at the realization Megan was gone. Anger battled with sinking dread.

A smart acquisitions specialist would have let her go, chalked her up as  a loss, one barbarian female's worth not equal to the damage or fuel  expense of a chase and recapture. An intelligent male would have looked  upon the situation as the easiest method in which to rid himself of a  copulation partner without fear of reprisal.

But Megan belonged to him. And no one takes what is mine.



Megan woke to a thick tongue and a pounding head. She blinked her eyes  open and didn't like what she saw, so she closed them. She took a deep  breath, then another. All in all, she took about ten shuddering breaths  before she opened them again.

Nope, still a bad situation. Damn.

Kind of like her first abduction, she found herself unable to move;  however, unlike the last time, she found herself shackled against a  wall.

Kidnapped, but not by a nice purple pirate this time if I'm not mistaken.

She wondered if Tren even knew they'd taken her yet. If he cared.  Probably not given how much trouble he claimed she continually was.  Perhaps he'd see her kidnapping as a relief. Sure, he'd miss out on a  bit of profit, but now he didn't have to put up with her.

Megan gave her head a shake. Enough with the pity party. He'd never  claimed to care for her, and it wasn't as if she cared for him. He just  happened to provide great sex-and a cuddly body to sleep entwined with.  And …

She growled as her mind tried to smash through her defenses. She fought  back. She couldn't allow herself to care for him-or trust him-therein  lay the path to stupidity and heartache. Besides, she had more important  items to worry about such as how to escape her untenable situation.