Swearing, Ryen punched a whole in Drekk’s wall. Dammit. He’s going to see that and use it as proof I’m not stable. Ryen relished the confrontation before a disturbance in the air caught his attention.
A bruised woman, bloodied Drekk, and a huge, dark-haired male entered the space.
Drekk and the woman lay unmoving on the ground covered in bloody bruises while the male crouched over them. Ryen immediately went into battle mode.
“Help him,” the male said in a heavily accented voice. His eyes glittered and in the light looked almost reptilian. He vanished before Ryen could attack.
Ryen wasted no time. He scrambled to Drekk and found a pulse, weak but there. The woman seemed unharmed except for a few scratches which even now were healing. Seeing a spot of blood on her lips but nowhere else on her face, he suspected Drekk responsible for healing her.
A communicator buzzed, finally. He’d been searching for a hint of a communicator for hours. Ryen found it and hit ‘receive’.
“Drekk?”a low voice asked.
“Who the fuck is this?”
“Cheltam. Ryen, have you seen—”
“Drekk’s right here. He’s not moving but the woman he brought with him seems to be waking. We need help right away.”
In an instant, Rafe and two others appeared. Rafe rushed to Drekk’s side, and Ryen had to resist the urge to break Rafe’s fingers where he touched Drekk. See, Sir? I’m controlling myself. Wake the hell up so I can show you... Fuck, I just called you ‘Sir’.
“Fellin?” Rafe called. “Bring your kit. Drekk needs help.” The medic attended to Drekk while another medic saw to the female.
“What happened?” Rafe asked in a hard voice.
“He just showed up, right before you called.”
“He’ll live,” Fellin said, relieving everyone of the immediate threat.
Ryen allowed himself to take his eyes from Drekk, satisfied his ‘friend’ would make it.
Conscious of Rafe’s scrutiny, he snapped, “What?”
“Those bands. The thing around your neck. Everything okay?” Rafe asked gruffly. “Erin’s concerned.”
The magnecuffs wouldn’t come off until Drekk commanded them to. But only a thin clasp of metroleum held the collar together, easy enough to undo. Ryen fingered the synthetic band at his throat, unable to remove it in spite of what it meant. Or maybe because of it.
“I’m fine.” Ryen fought a telling flush. “Fine as can be considering this asshole’s out killing himself while I’m stuck here under orders.”
“If Drekk thought you needed to stay—”
“Fuck Drekk. Soon as the idiot wakes up his ass is mine.” Rafe raised a brow and Ryen turned three shades of red. “Fuck you, too. You know what I mean.”
Drekk groaned and Ryen wanted to sag with relief. Instead, he pushed the medic and Rafe out of the way and knelt beside Drekk.
“Ryen?” Drekk rasped.
“You try leaving me here again and I’ll kick your ass all the way to Mornio.” Ryen carefully lifted him in his arms and took him into the bedroom. “Yo, medic, in here,” he yelled. Fellin hurried in. “So what’s the deal?” he asked the medic. “You going to tend to his wounds or not?”
“I, ah,” Fellin stuttered as he stared up at Ryen in awe or fright, Ryen couldn’t tell.
“Well?” he asked in a low voice, impatience gnawing at his temper.
“I’d like to, but he’s doing it all by himself. He must have injected a thraxian supplement before he arrived.”
Thank fate, Drekk’s natural healing abilities continued to work. “Yeah, right. Thraxian supplements.” Ryen cleared his throat, relief making him dizzy. Drekk really would be alright. “I think Cheltam wants a word.”
“Cheltam? I don’t hear...” At Ryen’s glare, Fellin raced from the room.
Drekk coughed. “You going to threaten everyone in my dwelling?”
“Hell, yes.” Ryen sank to the bed next to him. “How bad do you feel?”
“A few busted ribs, a concussion, some lacerations on my arms and chest. Nothing a few night’s rest won’t cure.” Drekk blearily opened his eyes. “Nice collar you got there.” His shit-eating grin should have irritated Ryen, and it normally would have.
Ryen grinned back.
“Maybe next time I’ll bring you with me,” Drekk joked. “You could have kicked some serious Ebrellion ass.”
Ebrellions? Even on Eyra in the labs Ryen had heard about the Ebrellions. Aliens from another star system who could supposedly do all manner of things. Deadly warriors who could shapeshift and communicate telepathically. And teleport, he thought with suspicion, recalling the male who’d appeared with Drekk and the female.
Ryen fumed. No one fucked with what he considered his. As if he’d allow anyone but himself to screw with his...lover.
Drekk closed his eyes with a goofy grin on his face. “Just gonna sleep this off,” he slurred. “Tell Cheltam—” He didn’t make it past the name.
Ryen didn’t look up when Rafe entered minutes later.
“The others took Olla back to her family. She woke enough to tell me what she remembers of the situation. Apparently, Drekk put down a shit load of Ebrellions. Olla was in and out of consciousness in that warehouse, but she thought the damned things shifted into thrells.”
Rafe handed him a communicator and nodded at Drekk. “I don’t trust the sorry bastard to tell me if he’s hurt. You call me if Drekk doesn’t heal properly, if anything at all looks off.” Rafe walked to the door and paused. “You know, he was pretty out of it. He brought the rest of the females to my place. Yet he brought this last one back home, to you.” Rafe gave him a look he couldn’t decipher and left.
Ryen settled in for the night next to Drekk. He lay on his side, his head propped on one hand as he studied the confusing male next to him. ‘Back home, to you’ played like a broken audio clip in his head.
Chapter Seven
Two days later, Drekk glared at the door and reconsidered his decision not to pound Ryen into glar-meat. For all that Ryen wore magnecuffs and a collar, he acted decidedly in charge, which negated all the progress Drekk had made with the stubborn male. Though Ryen catered to Drekk’s every unspoken whim, the humorous gleam in his eyes pissed Drekk the hell off. It was as if Ryen knew something he didn’t—like the location of the magnecuffs controller. Or that Ryen considered himself somehow superior since he waited on an injured, inferior Drekk hand and foot.
Having never challenged Ebrellions before, Drekk hadn’t been prepared for such a long recovery time. The other Creations he’d encountered during the years had been relatively easy to defeat considering his abilities. A whole two days in bed and Drekk was just beginning to waken from his body’s sluggish insistence that he rest while he healed. He remained conscious, though languorous through the process.
Damn it all, he hated immobility—a weakness he associated with his time spent in the labs. Even after a thousand years, he could still smell the ong disinfectant, could feel the metallic coolness of the table under him, the table upon which he’d bled to death countless times while sharp scalpels dug through his flesh, poking and prodding for answers...