"No, we eat them at your base cafeteria." He opened the glove box and peered inside.
"Oh." The general was a big suck-up. He probably thought supplying the Colettis with their favorite human food would get him that gig at Central Command. Not!
Hothar fiddled with the radio, smiling at the variety of music available.
"How long have you served on the Commander's warbird?"
"Two of your years."
Whipping around several slow moving cars, I kicked the monster truck up to eighty and did a quick scan of the area. No sign of Lothel or Voss. Yet.
Hothar pulled out the cigarette lighter and examined it. "Why are you disguised as a male?"
"I'm a reporter, and sometimes I use disguises to get close to the bad guys."
"Your males allow you to endanger yourself in such a manner?"
Spoken like a true Coletti. "Men don't get to tell me what I can or cannot do."
He grinned. "Have you told the Battle Commander that?"
"I have."
With a disbelieving shake of his head, Hothar added, "Coletti warriors are raised to cherish and protect females."
"Yeah, right into the grave. On this world, if you don't want to be dinner for the fucking monsters, you learn how to fight. If your women had known how to protect themselves during the Great War, the Coletti race wouldn't be facing extinction now."
Hothar was silent for a moment and nodded. "The Overlord did take a mate who could defend herself. The Battle Commander also chose you for your psychic abilities."
"Lucky me."
"Who do you hunt?"
"I'm tracking human traitors who are helping the Tai-Kok and Rodan."
"They have killed many?"
"Over thirty million of my people have been slaughtered in the last ten years, and unless I find the traitors, thousands more will die." I took the next turnoff and pulled into the parking lot of the Burger Palace.
He gently touched my arm. "I grieve for your loss, and I will help you hunt them."
"Thanks." To my utter surprise, the crushing grief was gone. Voss mucking about in my head had muted my memories. I wasn't sure if I wanted to hug him or slug him.
I turned off the engine. "Let's go get some burgers."
Like any typical teenager, Hothar was out of the truck in a flash. "And a soda?"
"And a soda," I answered with a grin.
The Burger Palace was a heavily fortified restaurant with metal doors and shutters. The interior was painted a cheerful red with old movie posters adorning the walls. The booths were charcoal gray with red-and-black-striped cushions.
A glass case behind the cash register held three AK-47 rifles and several grenades. A sign read: BREAK GLASS IN CASE OF EMERGENCY.
There was always some fool who wasn't armed and thought nothing bad could ever happen to them. Until the Tai-Kok came looking for dinner.
Ignoring the startled looks of the customers, I made a beeline for the women's restroom and hurried inside. An elderly woman dressed in a pink jogging suit let out a screech that would have raised the dead.
Crap! I gave myself a mental head smack. I should have used the men's room. "It's okay. I'm not a guy. I'm going to a costume party."
The old woman pointed at Hothar and sobbed, "Are we under attack?"
Smothering a groan, I smiled brightly and shook my head. "No, she looks like the real thing, doesn't she?"
The woman examined Hothar in disbelief. "That's a woman?"
Hothar growled.
"Stop it," I commanded him mentally. "We don't need the police showing up."
He smiled at her, showing a lot of fang.
The woman's eyes bugged out. "Those fangs look awfully real."
"They do, don't they?" I quickly slid into her mind. "Go back to your family."
"Certainly, dear." She hurried out.
"For future reference, men are not allowed in the women's restroom."
"I go where you go," Hothar stated implacably.
"Are you by any chance related to the Battle Commander?"
"He is my uncle."
Of course he was. "I want you to wait outside the door."
"I cannot leave you unguarded."
Taking a deep calming breath, I gestured around the small room. "There is only one way in or out."
"Anyone can teleport in and take you," he countered logically.
"Fine, but you are not coming in the stall with me."
Hothar opened the stall door and peered inside. "Agreed."
I rolled my eyes in exasperation, slammed the stall door shut, and quickly did my business. "Crap, no toilet paper."
Hothar's big hand appeared over the top of the stall with a roll.
"Thanks," I said, taking it. "You haven't told your uncle about our little road trip, have you?"
"He is aware of your location."
"What!" I quickly flushed the toilet and opened the door. "How?"
"The mate bond allows him to track you."
That sucked. "He's coming, isn't he?"
Hothar nodded. "I have ordered our food to go."
A hurricane of power crashed into the room, and Voss was suddenly standing in front of me. He looked at Hothar. "Leave us."
The kid vanished.
A shaft of pure gut-deep panic shot through me at the rage simmering in Voss's eyes. Sweet Jesus, that look was enough to send seasoned warriors running for their lives. No wonder worlds surrendered when his warbird paid a visit.
"You attacked my warrior and ran."
"I taught your warrior some manners, and I came here to use the facilities and get some food." I edged around him, turned the faucet on, and began washing my hands. The mate bond kept him from killing me, didn't it?
The Battle Commander loomed over me. "How did Lothel offend you?"
I met his gaze in the mirror, and something dark and terrifying flickered in the Battle Commander's eyes. "Lothel kept grabbing my braid. I warned him if he did it again, I was gonna kick his ass, and I did."
"I see." He rubbed a hand over his face and inquired blandly, "Did he do anything else?"
"He laughed at me, and he was disrespectful. I haven't had any chocolate today, and I'm a tad bit cranky. You got a problem with that?"
"Yes, it is my duty as your mate to take care of disrespectful warriors." His voice was a low, aggressive growl.
Yanking off a piece of paper towel, I dried my hands, and my evil twin made a sudden reappearance. "You weren't there now, were you? So I took care of it myself. Since you neglected to ask me if I needed anything like food, water, or a bathroom, you forfeited your right to yell at me for coming here."
"Is that so?" Voss's hands clamped down on my shoulders.
A yelp broke from me when his fingers dug into my bruised shoulder.
Voss roared, "Who hurt you?"
"El Jefe's henchmen were shooting at me, and I took a hit in the shoulder. It's a bruise. No big deal."
Voss pulled a knife from his boot, sliced open his hand, and held it up to my mouth. "Drink."
I looked at the badly bleeding wound in horror. "Don't you think you're overreacting just a bit?"
His scary index shot off the charts. "Drink. Now."
Self-preservation kicked in, and I reluctantly took his hand. With a grimace of distaste I sucked down some of his warm, coppery blood. Ewww. Gross. Chocolate it wasn't.
"More."
Did he practice his intimidating look in the mirror every morning? 'Cause it was really effective. "Do I hafta?"
"Yes."
Ick. Ick. Ick. Fighting back the urge to puke, I kept on sucking. All of a sudden I noticed his blood was starting to taste pretty darn good. What was up with that? Was it another facet of the mate bond?
Voss stroked my mind soothingly. "Blood exchanges are a necessary part of our mating."
"Reading my thoughts again?"
"Yes, they are quite entertaining."
"I'll bet." Warmth seeped into my stomach and began to spread throughout my body, easing my aches and pains. The rumors were true. Their blood did have healing qualities.
"Feeling better?"
"I am. Thanks."
Voss licked his wound, and the bleeding stopped. "I will endeavor to take better care of you."
"I'm quite capable taking of myself."
"You almost died in Dallas," Voss snapped.
"But I didn't, and I killed the Rodan raiders. All of them."
Voss bared his teeth in a snarl. "You were catatonic from overusing your powers. If your mother hadn't hidden you from us, you would have received the proper medical care and training."
I snarled right back at him. "She wanted a better life for me. She knew that Central Command would lock me up and forcibly mate me to a Coletti warrior."