In Enemy Hands Chapter 7

by Oren Miller (Cycy)If anyone is curious, these are the two characters who inspired In Enemy Hands. Beautiful, aren't they? I'd kill to have that as a cover.



Chapter SevenVaro staggered into the shower, the hot water pounding down on him. He needed…. He didn’t know what he needed. Answers would be good. An explanation, maybe. Something to explain what in all the gods’ names just happened in there.
Never, never had he felt such heart-ripping desire for another soul. He’d even let Adlar feed from him. He’d offered his neck to Adlar. What had he been thinking? Adlar could have ripped his throat out and bled him dry. He could have… He wouldn’t. Not that. He might turn the damn collar on, but he wouldn’t endanger me.
He couldn’t say how he knew that, just that he did. Varo touched his neck, feeling for the bite marks. Sure enough, there were two small wounds on his neck. He ran his fingers over them. They felt slightly tender, but nothing that would bother him.
Turning his face to the water, he let it wash over him, soothing his pleasantly sore body. Sex had always been enjoyable, but what he and Adlar shared passed enjoyable. It shook the very foundation he’d built his life on. All he knew about himself and the world around him had changed.
He’d come so hard his teeth rattled. And he begged for it. Begged to be taken. Begged for more. Begged to be fucked and fucked hard. There was no denying he’d loved every unit second of it. Adlar had taken control, and he’d let him. Wanted him to, even.
Adlar had told him what he could and couldn’t say… and he’d obeyed Adlar. A shiver ran through him as he remembered the broken pleas and whispered words of longing. His cock threatened to harden again, and frowning, he looked down at it. That’s enough out of you.
Star cursed thing had gotten him in enough trouble as it were.
His stomach growled, reminding him he was hungry. Shoveling all sexual thoughts out of his head, he washed his hair then the rest of his body.
After finishing his shower he dressed, braided his damp hair, and joined Adlar in the kitchen. Evening had darkened the land. Was it just that morning Adlar had been attacked? How much his life had changed in such a short time?
Adlar cooked and didn’t require any assistance from him. Which was just as well. He was… confused. And tired. Tired in mind and body. His feelings for Adlar scared him. They left him reeling and twisting. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stop this… this—whatever this was—between them.
He wasn’t sure he wanted to, and that scared him even more. There were times he wished the Helkans had just blown him out of the sky. A split unit second of pain and it would’ve all been over. He wouldn’t be here possibly falling in love with his captor.
“Varo?”
Varo caught himself before he cringed. “Yes?”
Adlar stared at him, not speaking. Moments passed, and finally Adlar spoke. “Are you okay?”
Was he okay? Well now, wasn’t that a loaded question. He hadn’t been okay since he landed on this planet.“Yes, why?”
“You just seem distracted.”
Distracted? Ah well, I guess that works just as well as anything else. Yes, I could be called distracted. “I’m tired is all. The day has been… eventful.” Varo snorted mentally. Eventful. Yes, again, that’s one way of putting it.
“I see.” Adlar didn’t speak again until he finished eating. “Why don’t you go to bed, then? I have some… things to finish before I retire.”
“Okay.” Varo stood. He’d caught the slight pause at the word things but he was too tired to question it. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “Do you want me to clean up?”
“That’s okay, I’ll do it. You go on.”
“Thank you.” He didn’t need to be told twice. Varo left the eating area and hurried to the bedroom.
He noticed Adlar had changed the sheet. He must’ve done that while he showered. Good. He didn’t relish the thought of sleeping in the wet spot. As he stripped, he stared at the bed. So much white , he mused. It almost gave the place an innocent appearance.
He knew better, though. There was nothing innocent concerning Adlar. A steady thumping caught his attention. Moving toward the sound, he walked to the window. To the far left of the main housing unit there a courtyard, illuminated by an artificial light. There stood Adlar.
Facing him was battle bot hovering in midair. Varo had seen military units like this at home. Soldiers used them for combat training. This one was silvery in appearance, and about four feet tall with a cylinder shape.
There were three sections to the robot, and each section could rotate separately. The top section had an ‘eye’ and could fire small darts or knives at a target. The middle section had a robot arm that wielded a sword or spear.
The bottom section contained either a whip or rope that would jettison out in an effect to trip the user or tie their legs. The machine had different levels for combat readiness and was an excellent sparring partner or teaching tool.
But it was also just a machine. It didn’t care about broken bones or blood that could result. Adlar stood at the ready. His dark clothes hugged his body. Varo noticed he’d tied all that black hair back and out of the way. His mouth watered. The other male oozed sex appeal.
As he watched, the bot began to spin. The buzz of the whirling motion filled the courtyard, an insidious threat of violence to come. Adlar moved with the bot as it stalked him, his attention focused solely on the machine.
The danced around each other, and Varo held his breath. He knew what was coming. With no warning, several darts flew out of the ‘eye’ of the apparatus toward Adlar. Did the darts have rubber tips or were they needle sharp?
Most soldiers practiced with the pointed ends capped for safety reasons, but Varo was willing to bet Adlar didn’t. Varo watched entranced as Adlar twisted his body this way and that, avoiding the flying objects hurtling at him.
He was poetry in motion: beautiful, fluid, and deadly… and fast. Gods, he was fast. Varo could hardly keep up with how swiftly Adlar moved. And he knew Adlar didn’t have cybernetic enhancements. Adlar bent his body backward in an effect to avoid one of the darts aimed at his face.
As he arched back, one hand braced him on the ground. With the other, he plucked one dart out of the air by its handle as it flew past. With a push from the hand he’d braced on the ground, Adlar came back up to a standing position, and, in a move that was a smooth as Yesri silk, he flipped the dart toward the bot, which had to use some of its own defenses to protect itself.
A wide-bladed knife on a mechanical arm came out of the middle section and deflected the dart. From a sheath on his back, Adlar pulled a sword too and moved to intercept the battle bot in a sword fight.
“Gods,” Varo mumbled, impressed.
The clang of metal on metal echoed around the area. As Adlar and the battle bot fought, Varo watched. What kind of concentration did it take to do that? Even as Adlar fended off the sword, he had to contend with the rope that snaked out from the bottom section and tried to trip him.
The fight continued until the bot managed to disarm Adlar. Varo watched as the sword flew across the courtyard. But that didn’t stop Adlar. Before the sword landed in the dirt, Adlar had another weapon ready to use as a defense: knives.
The curved, single-edged knives with handles fit into a person’s palm comfortably, or so he’d heard. Varo was willing to bet they had serrated edges. As he looked on, Adlar used the knives in tandem. These ‘swingblades’ were capable of slicing and stabbing positions.
The design complemented the natural motions of a person’s arms and hands in close combat. He’d seen such blades on his home planet. It took years of practice to learn to use them correctly. Varo shook his head as he watched Adlar battle the bot.
It was so easy to forget Adlar was a killer. Adlar’s touch didn’t inspire fear. No, indeed, that was not what Adlar inspired in him. Varo turned from the window and walked to the bed. Now that he was no longer involved in the battle outside his window, he noticed how cool he’d become.
For a moment he wished Adlar was there to wrap his arms around him. He crept into bed and pulled the covers up to his chin. Now he yearned for Adlar to be there? To hold him? What was he doing? Since when did he yearn for his enemy? But that was the problem. While he wasn’t sure exactly what Adlar was now, he was sure the other male wasn’t his enemy anymore.
Tears pricked his eyes, but he roughly wiped them away. What was he doing? This wasn’t him. Gods, he missed the sunlight and the warmth of it on his skin. The never-ending gloom here was getting to him. That was all.
As he drifted off to sleep even he didn’t believe that.