"Shit," Verica growled, cursing her weapon in the Terran of her childhood as her stomach sank like a stone. It was over. She was finished.
"Rifle gone dead?" a human voice asked in the same language. "Tough luck."
With a gasp, Verica jerked around to face the man who'd taken her so thoroughly by surprise. He must have come up the other side of the cliff, she thought wildly, looking up at the first human she'd seen in seven years.
Big. Much bigger than her father. And handsome, like the actors on Jonas' collection of simmies – dark, amused eyes set in a sculpted, angular face with a full, sensuous mouth and short-cropped black hair. Too bad he wore the enemy's colors on his black unisuit. And it was a safe bet the rifle he held so casually was fully charged.
"Don't you think it's time you surrendered?" he asked, his tone polite and interested.
Verica threw herself forward into a roll that carried her away from the edge of the cliff and gave her room to bounce to her feet. As soon as she got her legs under her, she swung the dead rifle like a club, right at her enemy's dark head. "The T'tcha Ker do not surrender!"
The weapon slapped into a casually lifted palm. His jerk ripped it from her hands so hard her arm muscles screeched in protest. Moving deliberately as she gaped at his strength, the human swung his own rifle by its strap across his back, out of the way. "You're not T'tcha Ker, girl. Or hadn't you noticed?" He tossed her beamer over the cliff edge.
She leaped forward into a hand-to-hand attack, throwing punches and kicks with every ounce of her strength. He blocked each blow with insulting ease, his big hands blurring to knock her fists and feet away.
"You know, she's pretty good," another male voice said.
"If he were mortal, he'd probably have his hands full," another agreed.
Jesus, there were more of them. Verica darted a look in toward the source of the voices. Two men watched her hopeless struggle, both almost as big and handsome as her opponent, one blond, the other with the darkest skin she'd ever seen in her life. The dark one crouched casually on top of an enormous boulder higher than his head, while his companion leaned against it.
With a defiant snarl, she snapped to face her foe and swung her booted foot in a high, hard kick at his head. He caught her ankle. Shocked at his speed, she just stood there for an instant, balanced on one foot as he gripped the other. Then another pair of powerful hands clamped around her shoulders. It dawned on her she was well and truly caught.
"I'm Captain Julian Bender," her enemy said. "And I really think it's time you gave up, don't you?"
But Verica had been taught to fight as long as she was conscious, so she drove a head butt back at the man who held her arms, simultaneously ramming her free foot toward Bender's groin.
Her head smacked back into a big hand just as Bender caught her by the ankle.
"Thanks, André," the blond man who held her arms told the third one, who wrapped his dark fist in her hair. "She might actually have caught me with that head butt."
Bender, both her ankles in his hands, pushed them apart and up, then stepped between. Verica squirmed and cursed, but the three men held her effortlessly.
Slowly, the mercenary captain moved closer, lifting and spreading her thighs until her shoulders were forced into the solid, muscular body of the man behind her, her head held in an arch over his shoulder.
"You know," the blond said in her ear, "this is starting to give me a hard-on."
"Everything gives you a hard-on, Dominic," André told him.
Bender moved his grip to the bend of her knees and stepped fully against her crotch. Looking between her trapped legs, she saw something cylindrical bulking under his unisuit, stretching in a long thick ridge the length of his belly. The feeling of that alien rod pressing against her cunt sent a trickle of heat through her.
So that's what a cock feels like…
Bender's eyes widened. "What do you mean, 'That's what a cock feels like?'"
"Good God," André said, astonished. "She's a virgin!"
Verica felt her face heat at the horrifying realization they had somehow read her thoughts. But the only humans who could do that were...
Dominic purred out a laugh in her ear. "That's right, darling. We're vampires. Very, very hungry vampires who've been living off synthblood since we were hired to fight this wretched war. And you, my love, are an answer to some very dark prayers."
"And maybe we can answer some of yours." André cupped her breast through her unisuit. His thumb brushed one nipple, which instantly hardened, sending juicy curls of heat up her spine. Watching her face with calculating eyes, he caught the little bump and began to roll it. She caught her breath in astonishment at the pure, liquid pleasure he conjured with such a simple gesture.
Opening her mouth to protest, Verica discovered she couldn't bear to say anything to stop that delicious sensation.
"Not so fast," Julian snapped at André. "How old are you, girl?" Reading the answer out of her thoughts, he looked relieved, then puzzled. "How the hell does a twenty-five year-old woman stay a virgin?"
"Shit," said André, on a tone of revelation, his hand going still on her breast. "She's been living with these fucking aliens since she was thirteen!"
Stung, Verica snarled, "Would you do me the courtesy of letting me answer your questions instead of just reading my mind?"
"Did it ever occur to you that a captive who's a hungry vampire's wet dream should keep a civil tongue?" Dominic growled back, tightening his grip on her arms in warning.
She started to tell him what he could do with his hunger, but before she could open her mouth, a waterfall of alien clicking filled the air. Her translator brain implant turned the voice into words: "I see you've captured the sniper. Good work, captain."
Turning her head, Verica saw one of the Jeranth holding a beam weapon in two of its six limbs as it clawed its way up the cliff, accompanied by a shower of rocks. "You're worth every cred the High Command paid you," it told the captain.
"Thank you," Julian said in English. Evidently the Jeranth had a translator of its own. "Luckily the charge ran out on her rifle just as we came up."
"Lucky indeed. But why haven't you killed it?" the Jeranth demanded.
Julian's hands tightened on her knees. "She's one of our species. We're taking her captive."
"Squeamish, eh? Would you like me to kill it for you?" The Jeranth scrambled over and put the muzzle of his weapon against her head. Verica's heart skipped.
With a growl, André grabbed the barrel and shoved it away from her skull.
"No!" Speaking rapidly, Julian said, "We have a use for her. She's valuable to us."
The Jeranth jerked and moved all its limbs in agitation. "It has killed a dozen of my soldiers! I want it dead!"
Julian lifted an arrogant brow. "Oh, she'll be punished, sir, far more thoroughly than any quick death."
"Yesss," Dominic whispered, his neat blond beard brushing her ear. "We'll punish her for hours and hours. In every single virgin orifice."
Verica's reckless temper snapped. "Shoot me, alien," she spat, glaring at Bender. "I'd rather die like a soldier than be tortured by the likes of these bastards!" She tried to kick at the vampire, but he controlled her effortlessly.
"Idiot!" Julian growled, tightening his grip on her thighs until she winced.
"It seems to find a beam in the head preferable to your company." The Jeranth produced a hissing sound the translator rendered as a laugh. "Keep it, then, if it dreads you so. In the meantime, Captain, my general wants to see you."
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