#MWTease from Rescued by her Alien Warriors #WIP #mmf

Hello lovely, peeps. Hopefully when you read this, I'll be sunning myself on a beach...

Hmm, scratch, that, May in the UK, I'll be lucky to not drown in the rain, lol. Anyways, we're on hols, but I didn't want to miss out on teasing you, so have scheduled this early.

On with my tease. Last week I shared from book one of my new series The Warriors, so today, I thought I would share the start of book two, which I should be ready to submit once I'm back home, all being well.

This is as yet unedited, so please forgive any mistakes.

Commander Alzaar of the Drakan war ship Tamarillion swirled the brown and dubious looking liquid around its glass container, and gave it a careful sniff.

Bentaan, his second in command and the sole reason why he was sitting in this run down bar on Planet Earth, laughed and emptied his own container of the strange smelling beverage in one long draught.

"Man up already and drink it. It's good, I promise."

Alzaar raised one eyebrow and pointedly looked around the place. Sat next to the exit of this establishment of ill repute, he didn't think much of Bentaan's promises right now. The place reeked of sweat, alcohol, and sex. A combination that turned Alzaar's stomach.  Even over the din of the many creatures frequenting this place the sounds of men seeking their pleasure in the human females for sale carried through the ceiling.

He pushed the liquid away, adjusted his weapons belt, and crossed his arms over his chest. Bentaan smirked, but before he could say anything, a commotion by the bar snared Alzaar's attention.

"Stupid cunt. That'll come out of your wages." The grossly overweight human who seemed to run this place raised his hand to strike the human female again, and Alzaar's muscles coiled. Bentaan too shifted in his seat, and Alzaar barely suppressed a growl. He would never get used to the offhand manner humans treated their females. Females of any species were to be cherished for their live giving abilities, not used as playthings, or currency. Unfortunately too many of the females inhabiting this planet used their bodies to survive, and lost all self-respect in the process.

Bentaan growled again when this female dodged the raised hand of her employer with an inherent grace belying the baggy clothes hiding her body. She yanked the tray on which several more containers wobbled their contents about, to her body and Alzaar smiled at her whispered reply. Thanks to the Drakuran superior sense of hearing he heard her loud and clear.

"You lay a hand on me, you piece of shit, and it's the last thing you'll ever do. Jesus, I need to get out of here."

A blast of her worry hit him square in the face, when she turned round and her sea green eyes briefly connected with his. They widened as she took in his battle armor. Both Bentaan and he were cloaked by holographic projection to hide their true identity, but at almost seven foot tall, they still stood out wherever they went. They weren't here to seek trouble or to rescue hapless females, but trouble seemed to have just found them.

Sure enough Bentaan waved her over, and after a moment's hesitation she approached, delivering the foul smelling beverages on the way while expertly avoiding the wandering hands of the clientele. Alzaar allowed his gaze to wander over this female. In the dim lighting of the bar it was difficult to determine her hair color. Scraped back from her face in a severe bun, only a few loose tendrils curled around her pale face. A smattering of tiny dark spots were dusted across her nose and high cheekbones, and led a trail down her slender throat into the hem of whatever the hell she wore to hide herself away. They also appeared on her arms, when she held one out to take Bentaan's empty glass of him. Freckles, that's what the humans called them, Alzaar remembered that now, and he shifted in his seat.

Why by all the Drakuran moons was he this fascinated by the texture of this female's skin, or the way her heartbeat leapt when Bentaan wrapped a hand around her wrist.

"How much?" Bentaan asked, and Alzaar tore his gaze away from the contrast his second's large hand made on the female's fragile skin, to glare at him. They weren't here to pick up females, so what was Bentaan playing at? And more importantly why did he feel possessive of a female he'd only just met?

His mood darkened at the thought, and he shook his head at Bentaan. His brother in law was up to something. It was there in the mischievous flash of his blue eyes, so like Alzaar's late wife, a flash of pain squeezed the place where his heart used to be.

He shook his head at Bentaan, but he paid him no heed. He did release the female's arm, however, when she yanked it out of his grasp.

"The prices are on the menu. I'm sure you can read?" she said, and Bentaan flashed her a toothy smile in answer. She took a step away at the emergence of Bentaan's fangs. Instead of running away, however, she straightened her spine and raised the sticky tray as though to bash it on Bentaan's head.

"I knew it. If you go through all the trouble to disguise yourself, then perhaps you oughtn't spoil it by flashing those things at me. That might work on your world, but I'm not about to drop to the floor and do your bidding, Cirrion, and just so we're clear on one thing. I.Am.Not.For.Sale."

With that she whirled around on the spot, and stalked away. The action raised the hem of her long skirt, briefly exposing a pair of shapely, pale legs, also dotted in freckles, and Bentaaan and Alzaar inhaled as one as a blast of her intimate scent invaded their nostrils.

"Damn, this one smells sweet, even if she thinks we're Cirrions." Bentaan murmured the words only loud enough for Alzaar to hear and Alzaar balled his hands into fists to stop himself from reaching out and yanking this female back. She didn't just smell sweet, she smelled of home, and his cock signaled his interest for the first time in five years.

Alzaar shook his head and rose to leave, only to be interrupted by a flash of pink that streaked into the entrance and then promptly stopped in front of their table.

The small human girl with a riotous mass of short auburn curls screwed up her little freckled nose, and looked around the room as though she was searching for someone, and from the familiar scent coming off this tiny human, Alzaar had a pretty good idea who she was looking for.

Bentaan swore and pulled his weapon at the same time as the Tamask slave trader sat across from them clogged the little girl.  His yellow crooked toothed smile widened and before either one of the Drakans could stop him, he'd grasped the little girl, and pulled her on his lap. She froze for an instant and then struggled, her tiny fists pummeling the man's chest to no avail.

"Well, what have we here? She'll fetch a fine price, won't she, lads? Just the right age I reckon."

His comrades in crime laughed and murmured their approval, and the piece of scum behind the bar joined in the heckling.

"I'll expect a cut, being that you found her in my place. I tell you what, I'll throw her mother in for you too. She's a useless waitress and she refuses to whore, but that'll only up her value, right? You can beat the defiance out of her."

"No, let her go, you… you scum. That's my daughter." The females' shrill scream hurt Alzaar's ears, even as he admired her fighting stance. Dagger drawn high she launched herself at the table the Tamask party sat, only to be felled by the bar owner sticking his foot out. The female fell hard to the floor, rolled and sprang back to her feet, determined to rescue her daughter, who was now crying. She didn’t get very far. A punch to the side of her face winded her, and she stumbled anew. She did manage to sink her dagger into the beefy arm of her attacker, however, and the filthy human howled in pain, and threw her off him.

"Enough."

Alzaar deactivated his holographic cover, dimly aware of Bentaan following suit, and a stunned silence fell on the place, seconds before all hell broke loose. A surge of power shot through him like it always did at the prospect of battle, and Alzaar went to work. It felt good to let loose, to slay his demons by severing heads, and seeing the filth's life force drain away in the dirty floorboards.

****

He does, you know, stain the floorboards, that is, and he's none too pleased to find himself saddled with two females on board his war ship...

*grins*

This is a m/m/f story, because Bentaan has no such qualms, and it turns out the two men have history ;-)

Don't forget to check out the other teasers, here.