The Vanished Specialist (The Lost Planet 2)

Her eyes glitter with excitement. “We’re really going to do this?”

“Together.”

She kisses me again, this time, her tongue eagerly plunging into my mouth to dance with mine. We almost attempted it before, and now we are finally doing it. For a moment, I am dizzied by her immensely sweet taste. Like her tears, but even sweeter if possible. Now I understand why Breccan devours Aria so often. These aliens taste rekking delicious.

“Thank you,” she murmurs when she finally pulls away.

All I can do is grin at her, my forked tongue flicking out on my bottom lip to savor the last of her.

I’m showing Emery what one of our weapons does when we hear footsteps. Quick and fierce.

“Hide this bag,” I growl in warning.

Before she can get it put away, Breccan and Draven round the corner. Emery reaches beyond the bars to grab my hand as though she is afraid of being torn from me again. A growl rumbles from my throat.

Breccan glowers at me. “Your constant disrespect for authority is alarming, Calix.”

“You, of all morts, should understand,” I snarl.

Draven’s brows lift and he smirks at me.

Breccan, thankfully, relents. “I do understand, which is why I have not throttled your brainless rekking nog.” His sharp stare roams over the space and he eyes the bag. “Going somewhere?”

I rise to my feet and point to the lock. “Let me out.”

Breccan’s jaw clenches. His sub-bones pop in his neck, but I ignore the sound that usually intimidates me into submission. Not this solar. This solar, I am filled with the fire to protect my mate. “A geostorm is coming. Big one.”

The fire is snuffed and I deflate.

“Then we must hurry,” Emery whispers, tugging at my minnasuit.

“Hurry for what?” Breccan asks as he edges closer. Draven holds back, near the door. He always has an escape at the ready. “Were you two planning on leaving?” His eyes are wide in astonishment.

“With good reason,” I try to explain. “My father worked over at Sector 1779 on the outdated equipment. I am sure it could be of use to Emery.”

I expect backlash and argument. Not a nod of agreement.

“I will have Draven and Oz prepare one of the terrainsters. You and Emery should get with Aria and Avrell to pack the other necessities for your travels. But you must be swift if you intend on beating the geostorm,” Breccan says as he pulls an old-fashioned metal key from his pocket.

He unlocks the door and I yank it open to get to Emery. The moment she is really in my arms, I can relax. Breccan smiles at me and Draven’s black eyes flare with something akin to disgust, as though touching her is horrible and repulsive. She is anything but. She is perfect, and she is mine.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” I demand.

Breccan scrubs his face with his palm, his claws dangerously close to carving out his eyeball. “We need information.” Then a sigh. “Just like you. Information we did not bring here because it was no longer useful. Our people—the females—were dying out.” His jaw clenches. “Avrell says they used to have a nursery inside Sector 1779. If anything goes wrong with my mortyoung, we need to have every bit of information within our claws. The terrainster is big enough to carry some equipment back.”

“We’ll make several trips and bring back as much as we can,” I agree without hesitation. One solar, I hope for Emery to carry my own mortyoung. And I want them both to be safe and healthy.

Breccan frowns. “This geostorm is gearing up to be one of the worst in our history. Potentially cataclysmic. I’ll have all morts here hunting and gathering. We’re going to fortify the facility against it. According to the reports, you have around four solars to safely get there and prepare yourselves against it. We’ll remain in contact.”

“When will the storm pass?” I ask, hating the dread pooling inside me.

“Our best guess is over two hundred solars.”

Sayer chimes in above us. “Give or take. Galen and I have been watching the geostorm and it keeps changing course. This one is unpredictable, but two hundred solars is our best guess based on its size and movement.”

“Two hundred solars,” I hiss in confusion.

“We can only hope it is enough time…before…” Breccan’s jaw clenches and he looks away. “I cannot lose Aria or my son.”

Son?

“We will be back in time,” I vow to my commander, who has finally gifted what I need. “Everything is going to work out.”

Emery squeezes me. Even she believes my words.

I rekking hope I can stay true to them.

7

Emery

I have to leave Calix to go with Aria to the sub-faction where empty rooms wait for the other women still in cryosleep. She leads me to a big observation area and keys in a command that opens the huge window in what she calls the common room.