The Vanished Specialist (The Lost Planet 2) - Page 44

Because there is so much to do here, and I do not spend as much time as I used to locked in a lab like back at the facility, I have grown stronger. Emery is carrying my mortyoung and I have insisted she grow stronger too. Together, we build our strength and have been working on endurance. One solar, when the storm has cleared, we will make that trek back to the facility. And when we do, we will need to be at optimal physical health.

I can hear a banging sound as though someone is trying to break through the door. It is not accompanied with scratches or growls, indicating a sabrevipe. My sub-bones pop and crack as I ready myself for what’s behind the door.

Many solars, I have lain in our bed in the dark and thought of how I will end Lox. I want vengeance for what he did to my father. When the time arrives, I will not hesitate. There will be no reform cell with his name on it. Only The Eternals—the place where all morts go once they leave this life. His life here is over.

I take a moment to throw on some zu-gear over my minnasuit. I may be eager to get my hands on the mad rekking mort, but I will not expose myself in the process. Once I’m suited up, I unlock the chamber door and yank my arm back, ready to fire my spear at him.

The door is shoved open and I am attacked right away. The wild mort charges at me, my spear whizzing past him. It snaps in half as the chamber door closes back on its own with a clang, making him flinch at the sound.

Rekk!

We scuffle and roll. Each throwing punches. When did Lox get so strong? He is an old mort and I should be able to take him. Yet here he is—heavy and powerful.

“Stop!” the voice barks from behind the mask.

But I don’t stop. I pummel him with my fists until he has them pushed down to the floor. Rage consumes me. I’m able to roll him over and pin him. My eyes frantically search the space for a weapon. I notice a magknife strapped to his side and fumble for it.

“Would you rekking stop?” he snarls from behind his mask.

His voice is familiar and it has me faltering. Enough so that he rolls us again. I’m pinned once more. He yanks off his mask and my eyes lock with a pair of wild eyes all right. Wild eyes I have watched for many, many revolutions. Wild eyes I have studied. Wild eyes I have wanted to help.

The alarm that has been blaring in the background goes silent, echoing still in my head.

And then I see even wilder eyes behind him. Blue ones. Protective and fierce. My mate grabs a handful of this mort’s patchy hair and yanks his nog back, a carpal knife at his throat. He gapes at me in surprise.

“Emery,” I say slowly. “Let him go. It is okay, lilapetal.”

She blinks several times. “L-Lox will k-kill you if I d-do.”

“It is a good thing this is not Lox,” I say, grinning at her. “This is our friend, Draven.”

My expression must put her at ease because she steps back, the carpal knife still gripped tight in her tiny fist as she cradles her swollen stomach. Draven rolls away from me and is on his feet in the next moment. His eyes dart to the door and he backs his body that way, keeping us at his front.

“Is that how you greet all your guests, mortarekker?” he grumbles.

I rise to my feet and pull Emery close to me. “You are our first one, so I suppose the answer is yes.” A grin stretches across my face. “How the rekk are you? Why are you here?”

His tense shoulders relax and he unzips out of his zu-gear. He has a satchel strapped to him against his minnasuit. From inside the satchel he pulls out a book. It looks familiar. Like those Sayer is always scribbling away in.

“The comms system works,” Draven grunts. “Well, apparently only one way.” He scrubs at his scarred face and gives me a withering look. “You really should turn it off when you mate your female.”

Emery lets out a surprised squeak. “You heard us have sex?”

I let out a rumble of laughter. “We shall be more careful next time.”

Draven’s brows furrow. “Next time? There won’t be a next time. You’re coming back with me. This is a rescue mission.”

I shake my head. “We are not going.”

Draven frowns. “Breccan was afraid you were going to say that.”

“She is carrying my mortyoung, Draven. Too fragile to risk a long journey, even via a terrainster.” I kiss the top of my mate’s nog. “I won’t leave her. One solar, we will return.”

Tags: K. Webster The Lost Planet Fantasy
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