Death Adder (Naga Brides Book 4) Page 2

  Barbarous. Wild, like the forest. An alien of this world.

  The naga’s one good eye traces over my headgear like it’s trying to figure out what it’s looking at.

  It’s a male of the species. And even if I hadn’t seen the reports, his masculinity is overtly evident. He’s wearing trinkets or jewelry of some sort around his neck and his arms, and there’s something tied around his waist.

  A net? Rope? He’s not carrying any weapons.

  My throat tightens, wondering what the adornments he wears are, and what they mean. Beings that take trophies are prideful…

  My eyes drop to the thick markings on his chest and the front of his tail and quickly realize they’re not markings—they’re more scars. Like the one on his face.

  Every one of them is haloed by broken flesh and scales that healed terribly. If he attacks me or one of my men, I’m only going to get one shot in before he’s upon us. Only he’s clearly endured a lot. He’ll be hard to defeat, and he won’t go down easily. If I have any luck left, the naga will move on.

  This isn’t how diplomacy works. We’re technically invading their land. The recorder in my pocket suddenly feels like a massive weight against my thigh.

  I glimpse one of my men shifting to my right.

  Then naga snaps his head, seeing him too, and bares his fangs.

  I jerk upward, standing on my knees. “Make one wrong move and I’ll shoot.”

  The naga’s gaze cuts back to me, his body going rigid. His one good eye widens as if he’s shocked by my voice. His hissing grows louder, reaching me, making my flesh vibrate.

  I gasp as the sensation floods me.

  He rises higher, and I see more of his muscular, scarred body as his gaze hones in on me—and only me.

  A branch snaps to my right, and I blink.

  He’s gone.

  THREE

  BREAK OFF AND REGROUP

  Celeste

  Ashton’s voice comes through my earpiece, startling me. “It’s gone. The creature fled south. All clear, Captain.”

  As I loosen my finger off the trigger, Josef appears at my side. “Are you alright?”

  I lower my weapon. “Yes, thank you.”

  Roger walks over to me next. “Was that thing what I think it was?”

  My lips purse. “That thing is called a naga, and it can either hear well, smell well, or it can track. Either way, we need to keep moving. It might return. Roger, Kyle, and Josef head east a half kilometer and towards our marker. The rest are with me. We’ll make a false trail to the west. We’ll regroup at our destination. Obscure your tracks. If the alien returns, he’ll have to decide between two paths.”

  Ashton leans into me. “It would be better if I lead over Roger. Something’s up with him. He injected himself with a booster after we left the box. He’s jonesing.”

  He’s telling me this now?

  Is Roger sick from the landing and he didn’t tell me?

  I take a step back, my heart still thundering from the encounter, and give Ashton a sharp nod, scanning the rest of my team members. My gaze lands on Roger. “Change of plans. Roger, you’re with me. Ashton, I better see you and the others at our destination shortly. Keep your comms open.” I try not to shudder, still feeling the naga’s deep hiss streak up and down my spine.

  Whether Officer Daisy ran from these nagas or Peter, I’ll never know.

  Glancing at Roger as he moves into position, I wonder if he’s sick… or high.

  We head west for an hour before changing direction and starting back towards Peter’s ship, spending that time making false trails and doing partial backtracks. I keep my eyes half-glued on the map, half-glued to the alien forest. No heat signatures return.

  But the map is small, only showing what’s immediately around me.

  That naga heard my voice—and spoke.

  Time goes by and nothing else happens. My nerves settle. We come across animals, and they either run at the sight of us or go about their business. There are no more signs of the naga. He’s not following.

  “We’re heading back,” I announce to my men with a head tilt. “Ashton, update,” I say into my earpiece, wondering why my hands are shaking.

  “All clear, Captain. We’re closing in on the marker and are scouting the area. There are signs of activity—let’s hope Peter and his crew are alive and well.”

  “Wait for me before you approach. We’ll be there shortly.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  The forest floor thickens, making our passage harder the closer we get. As we approach the mountain, the land slopes upward. I have to lower my map and take my hand off my gun to climb.

  The forest is denser than I expected. The planet is supposed to be dead. Pushing through bushes of thorns, webbings of twigs, and scouting around divots and rocks. I’m thankful for my suit as I work through one small ravine after another, as thorns scrape and tug at my clothes.

  When the ground levels again, the forest is lighter and less shadowed. Pushing up my headgear, my eyes adjust to the darkness. We’ve been landside for several hours now. I wipe the sweat off my brow.

  “Captain,” Roger warns me a moment too late.

  My eyes flick to my left as he hides behind a log. He throws his eye to his gun’s scope and aims behind me.

  Stilling, I hear a deep hissing sound, and I simultaneously glimpse the red dot on my map. I pivot and ready my rifle, locking eyes with him.

  It’s the same naga from earlier.

  Fast!

  He’s fast!

  Too fast.

  He’s a miasma of purple, black, and gray, wrought with muscles, and far larger than I first thought. He’s much, much bigger than a human and has thick, pulled-back black hair that appears long and silky. It falls around his broad shoulders.

  It’s not trinkets he’s wearing, it’s bones. My grip tightens on my gun. My nostrils start to itch.

  “Captain,” Roger hums with warning through the earpiece.

  I slowly shake my head. “Stand down.”

  My nostrils continue tickling like I’d inhaled spices and my aim wobbles. A breeze rushes through, and the air suddenly smells different, lusher, muskier—showered in notes of petrichor, edged with pepper.

  The naga’s features show no hint of aggression despite their broad fierceness. He’s studying me, reading me as I’m reading him, judging who will win if it comes to blows, I’m certain.

  I remain ramrod straight, giving him no reason to attack.

  I can’t even breathe.

  My eyes cut to his tail, to the shimmering nearly-black, mostly purple scales there. His coloring is unusual and threatens to pull me in. His scales interlock and frame a serpentine muscle I can only assume would kill me with a simple strike. There are even more scars carved into it.

  My grip slackens as the strange scent makes it harder to breathe. “I don’t want to hurt you,” I wheeze out, desperately holding in a sneeze. Liam takes up position on my other side. “You have three rifles aimed at you, think about that.”

  The naga’s gaze jumps to my gun, narrowing upon it, then darts back to my face. His lips twist into a scowl, stretching the scar on his face.

  “His tail is moving, Captain,” Roger warns. “It’s threading through the brush.”

  “Back off,” I warn the alien, “and you won’t get hurt.”

  His scowl morphs into something else… making me pause.

  Awe? Curiosity?

  “What are you?” he says.

  I tense against the raspy, thick words—all heavily accented in the common tongue. It takes me a moment to realize he’s speaking my language, and that he’s asking me a question.

  “Human,” I say and turn my face away, sneezing loudly.

  His eye flares and his stance hardens as I steady my aim on him. His back straightens as his tongue slips from his lips, licking the air like he’s tasting something. “Human,” he repeats the word roughly. His tail moves faster beneath him, uncoiling, becoming longer a
nd longer and longer… moving my way.

  “Don’t move!” I warn, feeling another sneeze coming on. “I mean it!”

  “Captain,” Roger prompts again. His gun drops to the naga’s tail before re-aiming at its head.

  The naga’s gaze intensifies. “Human…”

  Gooseflesh prickles my skin. “Stay back!” I order. “I’m warning you.”

  “Captain—” Roger urges “—Give me the signal!”

  “Stand down!” I shout as the naga’s gaze slices to him.

  “Captain, we need backup!” Ashton’s voice blasts my earpiece.

  I sneeze viciously, tears flooding my eyes.

  “We’re under attack!” he shouts into my head.

  All hell breaks loose. Gunfire fills the air as the naga twists and strikes. I dodge towards the closest tree for cover when something rings my ankle and snags me, dragging me away. Then it’s gone, and I scramble for the tree, righting and re-aiming my gun, rubbing my blasted nose at the same time.

  He’s everywhere at once, his tail striking and twisting, snapping out as gunfire rails through the ravine. In the distance, I hear more shooting, and Ashton’s cursing fills my ear.

  Then my earpiece goes silent.

  I straighten and take aim, hitting the naga in the tail. He twists to me, and his expression is furious. Liam sprints from his cover to get behind him.

  Lashing out, the naga’s tail hits him midway and sends him flying out of sight. Several of my bullets hit the naga in the chest, and he jerks, except they don’t stop him for long. Bowing over, he turns on Roger, who’s reloading his gun.

  “No!” I scream.

  He snatches Roger’s gun straight from his grip and bends it in two with his tail. Metal wrenches the air and I cringe. He turns on me next.

  “Fall back!” I shout as the naga starts heading for me. “Now!”

  I grab a magazine from my beltpack and release the old one, stumbling as the distance closes between us.

  He snaps forward, and his large mass is abruptly upon me, his face in front of mine. His tongue strikes out to lick the air again. Recovering, I strain away and try to position the barrel of my rifle to break his nose. “Get back!”

  Roger has his knife in hand. He dashes forward and sinks the blade into the alien’s tail, yanks it out, and prepares to stab again. The naga hisses furiously, turns on him, and throws him across the clearing.

  I pull out my own knife.

  “I cannot be killed, female,” the naga growls, snapping back to level his face with mine as I rush him. I halt before I crash into his chest and switch on my knife’s laser.

  “Want to see about that?” I grit.

  I sink the blade deep into his torso and jerk it downward, gouging him. Blood gushes over my hand, spurting my face and chest, and I release the blade.

  He stills and slowly looks down at the glowing knife sticking out of his chest.

  He wraps his fingers around the handle and draws it out, surprise crossing his features.

  I stumble back and wipe the blood off my face, gasping, ringing my fingers around my rifle. The scent is suffocating now, mixed with his coppery blood, and my stomach knots viciously.

  He staggers and then drops, crashing to the ground. His tail coils over him several times, and then he goes still. He bleeds out.

  He stays down.

  Unable to look away from his mass, fingers trembling as my ears ring, I wait for him to rise, barely believing I wounded him enough to put him down. When several minutes pass by and he doesn’t, I press my back against a tree and steady my loaded gun.

  “Ashton, are you there? What’s happened? Answer me,” I choke out.

  There’s no response.

  “Ashton,” I repeat, pulling out my earpiece and checking it over. “Update now. Answer me!”

  Again nothing.

  Watching the naga’s lifeless form, I hear a groan to my left.

  I put my earpiece back in and swing my rifle up to scan the forest, glimpsing Liam’s crumpled form through the trees. He groans again.

  Fuck. I forgot about Liam.

  I rush to his side, dropping to my knees. I cup his face. “Liam. Liam, you’re okay.” He’s pale and his face is scrunched in pain, his chin tight against his chest. I release him and reach into my beltpack and pull out a booster, and inject it into his arm.

  “Captain,” he says weakly, trying to lift his head, “I think… my back might be broken.”

  “We’ll get you to the ship and—”

  He goes still, and his features relax.

  I lean forward and cup his face again. “Liam? No. Liam?”

  He doesn’t answer.

  “Liam?” I squeeze his shoulders. “Stay with me!”

  He’s gone.

  “Liam…”

  I hear movement behind me. I pivot towards it, a scream tearing out of my throat.

  It’s only Roger.

  My mouth snaps closed, and I hang my head.

  FOUR

  STRANGE HUMANS

  Zhallaix

  I listen and wait, pretending death as the human female rises to her feet. Pain rips through my limbs, but I barely notice it, having spent most of my life in such a way. Only… the deep cut upon my chest burns with a temporarily staggering intensity.

  The female pierced me with fire—an unnatural fire produced by… tech. My lips peel back.

  The human female is brave.

  She… did this. To me. I grip my chest harder, oddly satisfied by the pain of her viciousness.

  There has never been fire in my body before—I am not certain where the burning ends and where my thoughts begin.

  I did not expect these humans to be able to hurt me… I did not even know they were humans when I first came upon them. They looked like a pack of animals prowling at night, invading my clan’s old territory. They were no more than the distorted shadows of creatures I normally come across. I didn’t see them as humans.

  If I had, I would have approached them cautiously. I will not be hasty again.

  They have strange weapons on them…

  My father’s face rises in my mind, and the faces of all my half-brothers that I have hunted down and slaughtered. They did not have honor, but I do. I will have it. If I don’t, I’m no better than them and should be put to death.

  Wincing from the heat in my chest, I surrender to the pain like I always do, knowing it is my curse to bear. My hand goes to my wound and presses against it. Blood seeps through my fingers and under my claws.

  The female has given me a new marking upon my hide, I am sure of it. But it is fairly shallow and will not keep me bleeding for long. Already, I feel the wound healing.

  A human male goes to her side, drawing my attention. I force my limbs to remain still, allowing my body to go cold. The male comes to a stop but doesn’t reach for her or try to hurt her. He stands there.

  She twists towards him and then sags when she sees that it is him.

  She trusts him.

  My curiosity piques.

  They speak to each other. I focus on their voices, except too much of my tail is covering me, muting them. Though, I think it has something to do with the dead male on the ground beside them.

  They think that I am dead as well, otherwise they would not ignore me. It is almost offensive that they are. My blood continues to pool and it begins to soak the ground around my tail, dampening the dirt under my limbs.

  There is enough of it to draw wolves—pigs, even.

  I found humans.

  I found… Her. And amongst cursed old Death Adder territory. Territory, where once, a female’s cries were common.

  And this human female is not with another of my kind, she is only with hers. If she had a naga for a mate, I would have known it by now. He would be near. So, she could not be one of the females who have been claimed. There is also no nest nearby, no den. This area once belonged to my clan, and I have kept it empty of life since their deaths. Why this female is here, I cannot fath
om, as Vruksha’s female is always with him.

  Not only this… One of my half-brothers has returned, and I can sense that he is nearby.

  A naga who got away from me and has finally crawled out of the hole he was hiding in to seek one of these females that have been rumored to have also returned.

  I hear whispers in the darkness when I spy on other nagas. I have the information I tortured out of Vruksha, but until now, I have not seen any human except his. I would not have believed him otherwise.

  They came out of the box—the one that fell out of the sky.

  She came out of it.

  I know it is so. The box smelled similar to them, like wet metal and rust. My mind rejects this, also knowing it is impossible. Boxes filled with humans do not fall from the sky… Humans do not come from boxes. Yet, it is the only guess I can come up with for why they are here, now. My thoughts do not add up with logic.

  Perhaps I’ve lost too much blood…

  I press my hand to my wound and try to staunch what continues to spill. Blood loss is making me light-headed, but as I settle to rest and regenerate, the female gets to her feet and faces me. She strides over, her footsteps crunching the ground.

  My body strains as she nears.

  She is covered in my blood. My blood. Mine.

  Her once pale face is now streaked with dirt and smeared with gore. Her headpiece is slightly tilted, and the things that were over her eyes are no longer covering them. She stops several arm spans away.

  She is so close, that I could catch her in my tail and drag her within my limbs. I could lay her on the forest floor, study her, force her to speak to me, and all I would need to do is defeat the last male she is with. There would be no claim to her then. Her headpiece is skewed, and it makes me want a clear view of the rest of her.

  Vruksha’s female had long, red hair.

  But this one glares down at me, her eyes taking me in—so angry they sear my scales. The longer she stares, the faster my heart quickens, draining me of more of my precious blood.