A Strength to Admire #3
“You kill us, and I can guarantee that it will be the end of all you hold dear,” Romival snarled softly.
“We are protected by the Coalition. Taking our lives will mean signing the death warrants of countless humans. The retaliation will be swift and brutal. They will have no choice. An example must be made, and they cannot set a precedent of mercy.”
“Neither can we,” Alpha returned calmly.
Holly shivered in fear. Not just for her little family, but for the future of humanity.
They were standing on a precipice. Could the others feel the tension of it in the air?
On one side lay peace and coexistence, but on the other lay death and war.
The Coalition would retaliate, and Earth had no idea the superpower they were up against. They didn’t know that the Coalition had built an entire cosmic ring, bigger by many times than any planet, to host over two hundred species of technologically adept aliens, all treaty bound to come to their aid.
They didn’t know the strength of the domini who purposefully kept themselves docile and calm while on Earth so no one would fear them.
They poked a sleeping bear, unaware that it was a dragon.
“Camera ready, Alpha,” the guy working the tripod said.
“Good.” He raised his gun. Pointing it at Romival’s head. She could feel the others doing the same. To her. To both of them.
“Romi,” she whimpered, clutching onto his suit jacket, tears welling in her eyes.
Tears for herself. For a life of love and joy she’d never get to experience.
For her species. For the era of sorrow and death that would follow.
For her daughter. Playing safe and warm in her womb, unaware that the harshness of the world would destroy her life before it began.
And for her mate. For her Romi. For the brilliance that would be snuffed out of the universe. For the hatred and bigotry that would darken such a bright light.
His grip tightened around her. The tension proof of his love and anger.
“I love you,” she said again, closing her eyes, refusing to see her death coming.
And if she had to die, at least it was here. In his arms. Their daughter cradled between their bodies. At least they were together.
“Hit record,” Alpha ordered. “After I speak, we shoot. Everyone else, quiet! You say a word, we shoot you too!”
Romival’s warmth. His strength. His scent.
He was all around her. He was within her. They were bound too tight for anything to ever break them apart, especially a measly bullet.
“Vi Vakara,” Romival whispered, pressing his lips against her head. Strain making his voice tremble ever so softly.
And it was tragic, but she smiled. Happy she was with him, right to the end.
“You are the one for whom I live and die,” he said in clear Domtri. “They will tell our story for generations to come. And our names shall live on side by side.”
“Start the-”
BOOM!
“Shit!”
Romival jerked in her arms. She could feel him looking around. But she refused to lift her own head. She wouldn’t look. She didn’t want to know what new horror was coming for them.
“Front doors breached!” Someone yelled, followed immediately by doors to the gala room slamming shut.
“Shit.” That was Alpha’s voice.
Unable to bear not knowing anymore, she turned her head. At least half of their attackers now had their guns pointed at the closed and sealed gala room doors.
“What’s happening?” Alpha asked, looking at Romival like he might know. He raised his gun, stepping closer to them. “What did you do?”
“It’s school security!” Someone yelled from the crowd. Holly turned back to see the words had come from the school chancellor. “We know our guests had their own security, but we also increased our security for their visit and had them stay nearby in plain clothes. They didn’t do anything.”
The school had paid for extra security for them? Even though they didn’t have to?
Wait, their own security team hadn’t noticed they were being followed like that? Even if they were in plain clothes, their security team should have been the best. They should have noticed shifty people always loitering around wherever they were.
Unless they weren’t actually looking for threats. Unless they were the threat and didn’t care if someone else became one.
“There are office rooms upstairs,” one of the attackers said, interrupting her epiphany. “This building has an elevator, but we can get that offline and control the only stairs. We can barricade ourselves in.”
Alpha cursed. “We wanted this quick and clean. We’re not prepared for a long-term hostage situation.”
“This is security!” Someone yelled through the doors. “The police have already been called and the government has been informed! Come out with your hands up!”
“Looks like it just became one,” Charlie said glibly. He pointed at them with the gun. “We still have the alien. We still control this.”
Alpha looked back at them. “The alien is a threat. The longer we hold him, the more likely he is to cause trouble and get away.”
“Then, we control him.” Charlie pointed his gun at Holly instead. “We separate them. If either of them tries anything, the other is killed immediately.”
Holly gasped as Romival’s grip tightened.
“No, please,” she begged, shaking. She couldn’t be separated from Romival. She couldn’t be taken from him.
“We’ll do that then,” Alpha nodded once, like she hadn’t even spoken. “Alien, release the woman. Step back from her slowly, both hands up!”
When he didn’t move, Charlie barked-
“Do it or she dies right here and now! And I’ll make sure to shoot her in the belly so your spawn dies first, and she goes slowly after!”
Romival shuddered. His arms tightened as though he might never let go. And she didn’t want him to. She couldn’t be away from him. They couldn’t be apart.
But he let go. His hands went up. He stepped away from her.
It was like having a limb snatched away.
Hands grabbed her by the arms and jerked her back, a sob yanked from her throat.
“Take her up the elevator, then disable it,” Alpha said.
“Put her in one corner of the building. You three, escort the alien up the stairs. Take him to the opposite corner. Check in every five minutes. I don’t hear from you promptly, the woman dies.
We hear a commotion, the woman dies. Anyone acts up or doesn’t obey an order, the woman dies. Get it?!”
The crowd whimpered and lowered their heads. Obeying silently. Romival just glared. His growl was gone. His claws were up. But he moved slowly as three of the bigger men converged around him, fingers on the trigger, ready to blow him away.
“Half of you take the rest of the hostages upstairs,” Alpha continued. “Put them in the office rooms. Secure the floors. The rest of you, stay with me. We’re going to start negotiations.”
“What about the plan?” One of them asked as Holly was being pulled out of the room.
Alpha didn’t respond as a door closed behind Romival. He maintained his silence until Holly was out in the hall being dragged towards the elevator. The door hadn’t closed yet, so she heard him respond.
“We’re not going to give those two up. The negotiations are for our lives and the other humans. Those two are going to die either way.”
***
It had been days now, and Holly was losing her mind.
The corner office that was her current home was dim since her captors kept the shades drawn, but she didn’t mind that. It made the room more den-like, which the transplanted domini instincts within her really liked.
And whatever fulfilled those instincts was necessary because the thing she really needed, her mate, had been missing for days.
She slept on a small sofa with no blanket.
She was brought food by her captors – simple fair that didn’t include the blood capsules she needed.
At one point, someone brought clothes and soap and allowed her to wash off in the sink of one of the bathrooms. She was escorted there four times a day, no less than two guards on her at any time.
Moving kind of helped. It gave her something to focus on.
Meditating and yoga also kind of helped.
It was what she spent the majority of her time doing.
She either tried to completely empty her mind or she would make lists or think of something extensive and exhausting.
She paced at times, counted papers in the filing cabinet, measured the size of the room using her own feet.
Basically, anything that could distract her, she attempted.
The separation anxiety was ripping her apart.
There was a disharmonic scream echoing incessantly in her head.
Every inch of her skin was overly sensitive and even her own touch felt like sandpaper grinding over her flesh.
She was constantly shaking. Her belly was rolling, hovering somewhere between nausea and pain.
The harsh bite of acid lingered in her throat.
Every sound, every flash of light, made her jump like it was a threat.
And threading through it all was the constant worry that she was harming her baby.
Stress wasn’t good for a pregnant lady, and that was all she felt anymore.
She needed blood, specifically the iron from the blood, and she wasn’t getting it.
She thought maybe a couple days without wouldn’t make a huge difference, but not knowing for sure made her worry that maybe she was harming her baby through malnutrition as well as stress.
She needed her mate. The loss of him was like a gaping, irritated wound right on her chest threatening to expose her heart.
So, she paced and meditated and counted papers to try to keep herself focused on anything besides the stress and fear and anxiety.
Her only good fortune was a lifetime worth of practice doing exactly that.
The anxiety she felt now was similar, if just a bit worse, from the medical anxiety she used to struggle with before living on Turv. She had developed a lot of techniques over the years to try to keep herself calm and combat those feelings.