Saxon (Shared Survival Book 1) Page 2

  The silt hangs heavy this deep, making it difficult to see, and the lights are pretty much pointless, so I turn them off. Anything down here hasn’t ever been exposed to the light, and there’s no way I’m going to see anything bioluminescent with them on.

  That’s the beauty of Henrietta. I can’t see in the dark, but she can. Switching to the enhanced night vision, I watch as she lowers us into the widest cavern on the right. It’s our best shot to explore.

  There’s nothing for several minutes, just an inky blackness and the surrounding rocks, and for a second, I start to second guess myself. It’s so dark and so quiet, save for the light hum of Chopin coming through the speaker, and no one else knows I’m here.

  I only wish I could have told my best friend, Anya. But with her psych issues—and all the people and governments she thinks are after her—she can’t afford it. She doesn’t know how to keep herself out of trouble, and if I can avoid getting her involved, I will.

  My own selfish choices lost me my family once. I won’t make the same mistake again. Henrietta leans a full ninety degrees to navigate a sharp right, and I bite my lip, trying to ignore how unnatural it feels to be turned on my side. Luckily, the straps were made for this kind of movement so I don’t slide an inch, but poor Stella goes tits over ass and smacks into the back wall.

  A cold hollowness climbs up my throat as she turns an additional ten degrees, and I close my eyes, trying to center myself before I puke. But thoughts of Mister Fancy Pants, Elgin, sitting in this chair bring me right out of the panic.

  I wish I could be there for that. I wish I could be there for everything. Maybe I can bribe Risa to use the internal cameras to take still shots of his twisted face when Henrietta dances like this with him in the chair.

  The last Chopin track ends, and when Henrietta rights herself, Stella comes rolling back and I reset the music. There’s something about a soft orchestra that soothes me and a badass one that gets my adrenaline pumping. Classical is so underrated. I swear, it was the original metal.

  As the melody begins to play, I return my gaze to the sonar screen. Or try to. Instead, I’m drawn to the view window by what looks like tiny green lights. There are no words to describe it. Little glowing organisms float freely through the cave, illuminating it enough for me to see the enclosed space, and I stare with child-like wonder.

  I don’t care what will happen if Elgin finds out I did this. This is so worth it.

  No more than fifty-feet across, this section of tunnel leads to the mouth of a larger cave. Once we make it in, I have to unstrap my harness and smash my face against the window.

  “Holy crap on a cracker, Stella, this is unheard of…” The words slip out in a breathy rush as I struggle to believe what I’m seeing.

  Large clusters of bioluminescent plant life grow from the walls like some kind of multi-colored carpet, and schools of those tiny green floaters swim by. Using Henrietta’s arm to snag a few, I zoom in with the camera.

  Holy shit. There’s something resting on the sea floor. It’s large. Around twelve feet in length. And wait? Are there more of them?

  The shiny exterior would lead me to believe it’s some kind of metal, but down here? How’s that even possible? And if it is…how is it withstanding all this pressure?

  With only two feet of its silver cone-shaped top protruding, I can’t really get a good view of what it is. Years of growth obscures the design that peeks out near the tip. Whatever it is, I’m drawn to it, and the urge to horde it like a dragon with treasure is nearly too much to resist. Leaving it here for Elgin to find is going to kill me.

  I want whatever this is to be mine. I need it to be mine.

  My heart’s pounding, and my fingertips itch to touch it. Not smart considering I’m miles below sea level and would pop like a pimple if I opened Henrietta’s door.

  Could this be some kind of ancient artifact? Oh, holy balls! Did I discover some kind of dead city or civilization?

  Ugh, I can’t see anything. I need to get closer…

  Turning off the auto-drive, I switch on the lights so I can maneuver Henrietta’s retrieval arm to take samples of the cave wall. Maybe I can clear off some of the debris to better identify whatever this is.

  Trying to be as careful as I can, I move the control only a fraction of an inch—paying close attention to Henrietta’s safe boundaries on the view screen. I extend her arm with the flip of a switch and use it to collect a few samples from the top, near where the thick build up begins. It’s harder than I expect but, with a little more strength, I manage to wipe a foot long portion of debris clear and wait for the silt to settle.

  Movement flickers out of the corner of my eye, and I lean closer to the window, trying to see through the sludge I sent flying everywhere. What the hell is that?

  Not willing to blink and miss a single second, I grab the main control arm to move Henrietta closer. She starts to yell at me, the bright yellow blinking light on the screen warning me I’m closer to the wall than she wants me to be.

  I’m still two feet away. We’re fine. I just need to get a little closer.

  With my face still pressed to the glass like it will actually help, I guide us in farther, gripping the controls so tightly my fingers turn white. My life literally depends on my control right now.

  Focusing on a thickened area the gap in the debris reveals, I catch sight of a weird shadow. Is that something I’m creating?

  Oh, fuck! A squid-like creature clinging to the silver object’s tiny window swims away, and I jump back, yanking on the controls and sending us crashing into the far wall of the cave. I’m thrown forward by the collision. Pain radiates across my scalp, and Henrietta’s alarms are screaming, but I can’t move to answer them. The room spins, and a heavy weight pulls me under.

  Chapter Two

  Saxon

  Mine.

  Danger.

  The urge to protect stirs me from sleep, but I cannot move more than a hand to reach her. Wake, you stupid bastard, wake! The stasis-inducing serum running through my veins stifles my attempts, but her call sends me reeling toward consciousness. I cannot scent her. Cannot see her. It is as if my eyes have gone blind, but I feel her closeness and her desperate need for me. My female is dying. And I do not even know her name.

  A jolt of pain settles in my abdomen where my heart lies, and my claws extend. No. I will not lose the one I have been searching my entire existence for to a stupid travel chamber. My brethren. Maybe they can help.

  The communicator in my wrist that connects us flickers, showing the existence of three other Revari pods, but the activator is dead. Like mine, their pods must not be fully operational or we would have been alerted to the error. Shit. I cannot reach them.

  Ripping the injection tubes from the bundle of veins in my arm, I test each limb quickly, shaking them awake before I throw myself out of the padded mold that’s held me for the duration of my slumber. I do not know how long I have been in stasis, or where it is that I have landed, but none of that matters. Only her. Forever her.

  The waning connection between us screams at me—stimulating my drive to protect, to comfort, to heal. I press my hand to my pod wall, activating the internal controls to open the hatch, but it refuses. Its sensors are breaking down the components of the substance surrounding me and it continues to deny my exit, why! Cursed chamber! I do not care if it is safe!

  The environment beyond my pod is harsh with very little gas to filter through my lungs and only meets the minimal life requirement parameters.

  Sinking the sharp edges of my teeth into my hand, I ignore the pain, smear the life blood required to override the lock, and burst through the hatch—my pod propelling itself up as I exit. Pure agony folds me in half. Crushing pressure on all sides bears down, forcing my shape to shift, my bones to soften, but I do not slow. Not even the unfamiliar darkness and violent wet ooze can stop me from freeing my mate. From saving her.

  The sound of the aquatic beasts around me register, and I emulate t
hem, using their pitch to aid my weakened vision. The echoes and our connection guiding me, I find the rough edges of some kind of craft. My mate is inside, but I can find no way in.

  I rage against it, but the intense pressure prevents me from exerting my true strength.

  My female’s heart beats rapidly, and with the wet ooze filling my ears, it is dangerously faint. I must get her away from this place. With my primary breathing passages unable to filter the ooze, only the ancillary passages behind my ears and nostrils allow me to dissolve and absorb the elements.

  I cannot survive like this for long, and I fear this environment will not be sustainable for her either. The ancient sky spirits cannot have her yet. She is mine.

  Panic courses through me, stoking something I long thought dead, and with a muted roar, I propel the craft up through a narrowed set of tunnels. The faster I go, the more her heart weakens. Fuck. I do not understand this.

  The pressure. My own body is struggling to adjust. Perhaps hers is having difficulty also.

  I raise the craft until her heart rate slows again, then wait for it to regulate before I push the craft up even more.

  She’s losing too much blood. This is taking too long.

  The pressures lessens, and light from a crescent shaped moon illuminates the wet ooze. Muscles weakening, driven solely by rage and a primal desire to feel the warmth of my mate beneath me, I bring her to the surface and scan for a solid mass to lay her on.

  The nearest land mass is too far. She will not make it, but a bulky craft hovers on the surface nearby.

  I must release her from her vessel. I must save her. She is to become my world. I cannot let her perish before I have the chance to show her what she will be to me. And what I am meant to be for her.

  The walls of the vessel are strong, and the hatch is secured, but it is no match for my determination. Ripping through the hinges, I lunge in, wary of that damned wet ooze filling the chamber.

  Get back, you foul, filthy bastard.

  Pulling my female into my arms just as the destroyed craft sinks below the surface, I ensure her breathing passages remain dry.

  Careful not to crush her delicate form, I fight through the wet ooze to the craft and climb on. Her temperature is too low, her heart weakened, but as I cradle her and warm her with my own heat, the most beguiling pink tinge blooms on her cheeks.

  She is more beautiful than I could have ever dreamed.

  The large gash in her scalp begins to stream red again, and I lay her down to rip into my own skin, using the clotting properties my life blood contains to seal her wound.

  Signs of life stir inside the strange craft, and I roar, extending my claws, prepared to destroy whatever else threatens my female. There are more scents than I can count and all are unfamiliar. A furry creature advances, back raised in aggression, and expels a hiss. Its message is clear. It believes this female is hers.

  Tiny creature, you cannot have her.

  Baring my teeth, I emulate its warning shriek, and it hops up and scurries back to a large room in the middle of the craft. My female reaches out, eyes still heavy with sleep, but finds nothing but air. I long to answer her touch, but I do not wish to scare her.

  “Binky? Where…are…you?”

  Her words… I cannot understand them. Why? The language simulator in my brain should analyze the sounds, creating a construct of her language. The skin has overgrown, but the device still remains near the surface. This implant allots for what? A hundred thousand sun cycles before it requires a reboot? Where the hell did that blackhole spit us out? And when? I must have been in stasis longer than expected.

  Gouging the simulator from my flesh, I press the release button and restart the processor like Pavil showed me once before, then shove it back into the wound before it starts to heal.

  I have to speak to my female. To hear and understand her needs so that I can meet them.

  She drags her hands across the rough flooring. “You furry little twat…how’d you sneak inside Henrietta? Come here and let me snuggle you. I had too much booze. I feel like balls.”

  Unable to keep my distance, I’m drawn forward. Her scent wraps around me, down to my cock, and I yearn to feel her. Instead I lower my head, letting her hand meet my long black hair. If she wishes to caress the tiny beast that roams this floating fortress, then perhaps this will give her some comfort.

  Her hand freezes, and her eyes struggle to open. “What the hell, Bink? Did you get in the butter again? Wait a second…you can’t be in Henrietta. Where am I?”

  My implant starts to buzz as it processes her words.

  Bink. The furry beast has a name.

  A deep gasp tears from her throat as her eyes jerk wide, and my female—my mate—struggles to get away from me. Sharp pain tears through my chest, worse than any blade from any foe I have battled. I have waited for this moment, traveled the constellations to find her, and she fears me.

  Chapter Three

  Leigh

  “Oh, holy shit!” I scream and scramble back away from a strange man I was petting. A fiery pain radiates across my palms when the rough grip on the deck scrapes against my skin.

  The man’s head is down, bowed low, and his muscular shoulders are wound tight like he’s afraid to move. I can’t make out a whole lot under the crappy deck lighting, but I can tell he’s huge. I’m a good five-feet eleven, and even crouched down, he towers over me. “What do you want? How’d you get on my boat?”

  And where is everybody?

  “I…do not whiissh to hurt you,” he whispers, face still covered with long strands of inky black shoulder-length hair. A salt-infused breeze tickles my face, bringing with it the most incredible smell. Like shooting stars and fresh rain, it pours off of him and surrounds me like a wall of smoke, settling the panic deep in my chest.

  “Says the strange man who magically appeared on my boat in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Just stay back, or I’ll…” What will you do, Leigh? Insult him to death? “Well, I don’t know what the hell I’ll do, but you won’t like it!”

  “Of course, Mu Xitall. I will maintain my distance.”

  Mu Xitall? What language is that? The closest land masses are the Mariana Islands, and that’s definitely not English or Chamorro. Dragging my feet under me in one not-so-swift movement, I tumble forward and prepare to hit the ground, but don’t. Strong, hot hands grasp my wrists, keeping me upright.

  Oh, my crab cakes. He’s touching me and when he stands to full height, easing me up with him like my thick curves are feather light, whatever words were dangling on the tip of my tongue flee.

  Deep golden eyes the color of sunflowers in summer pierce a veil of midnight black hair and stare into mine, glowing beyond the light’s reach. My breath stills, lodged in my chest, and I’m so caught up in the moment I forget to be afraid.

  “Your eyes…” The words slip out in a breathy whisper, and I know I should probably be embarrassed that I’m gawking, but I’m not. I’ve never seen anything like them before. I have no clue if I’m awake or asleep, but man, if this isn’t reality I seriously need to stop spending all my free time reading werewolf porn and actually converse with a real man.

  “I am called Saxon and I only wish to protect you.”

  “Saxon…right…I’m Leigh,” I mumble, still in complete shock. I must be dead or delirious, because at this point it’s the only explanation. The boat sways, and Henrietta’s metal security cables smash against the hull.

  Wait. The only way those would be free was if…

  I tear my hands from his, my temples pulsing with each step, and run toward Henrietta’s launch pad. Vomit climbs up my throat.

  “Where…is…it…?” I manage between short, clipped breaths. “It should be here. She should be here.” Dread settles heavy in my gut, and even though I can’t remember what’s happened, I know it’s bad, and this strange man has something to do with it. “What did you do?”

  “Your vessel lies at the bottom of this liquid prison, Mu Xi
tall. You were bleeding and the wet ooze tried to steal your life. I had to tear you from it.” His fingers gently trace a tender spot on my forehead, and like a tidal wave, the memory of what happened rushes back to me.

  Sneaking onto Henrietta after Elgin fired me. Breaking the record low. The beauty of the bioluminescent life. Then the burning pain radiating through my head after I smashed Henrietta into the cave wall. I’m such an idiot. Of course, I’d manage to hallucinate down there and completely sabotage myself, nearly dying in the process.

  “But, how did you find me? I turned off all outgoing communications. Not that I’m not happy to be alive, but I should have died. It doesn’t make sense.”

  He smiles, and even in the dim light, I can see its brilliance. “I awoke to your body’s need for healing. Our mate connection is strong.”

  “Our wh-what?” I sputter. “Wait, what do you mean you awoke?”

  Swaying with dizziness, I stumble toward my room, and Saxon follows close behind. My head feels like it’s about to explode, making it hard to think. I need meds, water, and this damn wetsuit off, then maybe this giant clusterfuck will make sense.

  My raw palms sting as I rest them against the counter of my kitchenette. Running through the fragmented memories, I try and organize my thoughts and focus through the pain. “I know I was a dumbass and knocked myself out, but Henrietta’s hull wasn’t breached. The compartment was intact. Maybe if I can spot her on the sonar, we can retrieve her tomorrow before Elgin shows up and the rest of the team returns…”

  “It is no use. The wet ooze consumed the craft as soon as I ripped it open.” He covers my hand, and I jerk away, turning to face him for the first time in full light.

  “Listen, I already warned you about getting too close—oh, my holy shitnuggets. You’re...”

  Gray. Ripped. Clawed. Soaking wet and half-naked with full lips and an ass I could bounce a quarter off of.