Disclaimer: I do not own Predators
Chapter 1
The dance of the flames seduced the horror of that day to the front of her mind. The caress of smoke snared her senses, dragging her into the memory. Rh'anka should have fought the heat's soothing call, but the fire's warm hug had lulled her into a false sense of security and comfort. Until the searing pain hit. The recollection stabbing her with its cold blade. Snapping her out of the lulling trance, the flames becoming just what they were. Flames.
They twirled and lashed, the seducing movement calling her back to the nightmare. This time she resisted, watching the hues of amber and yellow engulf the bodies of Mes'tanu and Theia. It was the Day of the Dead, the Cetanu Sun. And finally the Yautja could mourn.
Rh'anka had arrived well before the eclipsing darkness. Had watched as shadows grew and glided over the frozen plain around her. Had mourned as their cold bodies had laid whole. Now they were nothing but dust on the whipping wind. Like the eclipse, the fires would last the rest of the day.
There were other bodies being consumed by the blaze, some Yautja stopping to pay their respects. But when it came to Mes'tanu and Theia, all Yautja made time to remember.
Pleased that their sacrifice was respected, Rh'anka pulled her heavy cloak in tighter against her body. Noting though the Yautja paid their respects to the previous Matriarch and Patriarch, the reflections passed quick and sharp. Eager feet making their way to the thunder of rapid beating drums. Mourning just wasn't the Yautja way. Death was revered. Just like the God who induced it.
Soon only Rh'anka remained, the tips of her cloak flapping in the bone chilling gale of Red Prime. The dancing glow her only source of heat on this new planet the Yautja now called home.
"Rh'anka, join me at the celebration." Rh'anka eyes darted to find the same sky blue that frequently haunted her dreams. Her eyes flashed back to the flames before her stomach could roil.
It wasn't a question. It wasn't a request. It was a demand. Rh'anka knew she had put Trinity off for too long. Had denied anyone from seeing her since Trinity and Mik'ail's mating battle. Thirty days had passed since then. "No."
"Unacceptable." Trinity growled low, pressing close so only Rh'anka could hear her clicks of fury. "You need to snap out of it. You need to rejoin society. You need to talk to me."
Eyes closed to block out the fire, to pretend this wasn't reality. It was an elaborate hoax, a dream concocted by the Gods. But the fire had imprinted its bright light on her eyes. Even with her lids drawn down its light could still be seen. Its heat warm against her skin. Ash and burning flesh filled her nose. The crack of exploding wood drew her eyes back open. "Trinity I don't think I can do it." Green eyes sought the Halfling, sought her last remaining Al'kin sister.
"Then throw yourself on the fire." There was no pity. No compassion. Just a logical suggestion.
Rh'anka had considered it. Her own thoughts seducing her to seek the blaze. She would be at peace. No longer would she wake up screaming in the night, no longer would the tracing of her scars leave her with short breath and blurry vision. Peace.
"No." There was another peace Rh'anka knew she sought. That couldn't be found with death. Only time and patience.
Trinity recognised the sheer will it took to click that word. "Then come." Trinity walked past Rh'anka stopping to turn with a cheeky grin. "And throw that cloak away. You won't need it where we're going."
The cloak floated to the ground as Rh'anka stepped up to Trinity's side. The beating drums calling them, inciting their very blood, tempting them to quicken their step.
Coloured cloth brushed against Rh'anka's skin as she ducked between the tent's veil. Her heart immediately boomed with the vibration of sound. Sweat and heat dewed her skin upon her first step into the darkened tent.
Ooo
Kallum knew the exact moment Rh'anka entered the celebration. Electricity zipped through the air as the only remaining females of their race joined the festivities. The surge turned heads and stopped music.
Finally the other half of their race was here, celebrating with them, complimenting sheer aggression with stalking dominance. Matching force with constraint. Harmonizing rough with sleek. There was only two, but it was still enough to pretend their race was whole once more. Just for tonight.
A mighty roar made the material walls and roof vibrate with triumph. They had persevered and now, they would drink the day and night away.
Trinity and Rh'anka had pints of c'nlip thrusted into their hands mere seconds before they were pulled into the crowd. Kallum smiled seeing Rh'anka's nervous look as a male clasped her on the back, requesting a battle to the bottom of their mugs. Rh'anka nodded, nervousness being replaced by the competitive edge that drove them all. With a clink of metal, heads flew back gulping the c'nlip down. When Rh'anka finished first, like Kallum expected her to, a cheer rang through the surrounding Yautja.
With victory came more competition. Soon dim green eyes twinkled with the delight of battle. So she did feel something other than pain. Interesting.
Kallum studied his prey from the elevated seating reserved for councillors. The sea of green, brown and black closed in on Rh'anka, but he never lost sight of her burgundy skin. Skin, he remembered, that was as sensitive as her black thick tresses. Like Trinity, Rh'anka had worn the standard loin cloth and breast covering. Unlike Trinity she had sheaths for her many daggers strapped to her leg, waist, wrist and back. A necklace of bones encasing her lean neck. Muscle warped by battle and constant training rounded into curves that could make any sated male hungry again. Ivory tusks long enough to protect, short enough to be feminine beckoned every male closer. Even the youngest of the unblooded edged nearer.
None would have her.
"I see you're enjoying the view." A teasing purr snapped him out of his possessive thoughts. His eyes barely acknowledging Trinity's presence before shifting back to the source of his rapid beating heart. He was on the hunt. Every molecule that made up his body knew. Adrenaline coursed through his veins.
Nothing would distract him, not even the blue eyed, grey-brown skin of the female Yautja. Though there was a question rattling its tail to be asked since seeing Rh'anka enter the tent.
"How did you get her to come here?" Thirty days since he had seen Rh'anka. Since anyone had seen her. Even when he had requested to enter her quartes to speak about council matters, he had been denied. Her refusal had left a bad taste in his mouth, even thinking about it now he growled unconsciously.
Trinity chuckled clicking with a tormenting grin, "Oh I have my ways."
Oh how tricky Oomans annoyed him. "Your Ooman side is most irritating. Has anyone told you that?"
Carefree as a shrug could be, she sat down in her reserved chair. Since becoming a Councillor, Trinity had grown accustomed to her new role in guiding the faction of birth as well as the benefits it brought.
Like having a chair to sit down wherever she went. Kallum knew this particular privilege would be more appreciated by her in the months to come.
Her scent had changed. Which only meant one thing. "Where is Mik'ail?" Kallum asked, wondering if the change had been noted by her battle mate.
Relaxing back into the fur covered chair, Trinity raised her feet to rest them on the bench edge, wiggling her talons in the heated air. Tucking both hands behind her head, she let the thrall of the drums sink into her skin. "The arbitrator of System 17685 hasn't responded to several communication attempts. He's gone to check it out."
The silence of an arbitrator didn't bode well. "It could be a trap." Kallum didn't sweeten his opinion of the situation.
A blasting cheer as Rh'anka won another battle filled the silence that awaited Trinity's response.
"He knows. Precautions have been taken." The cold tone was an obvious hint that she didn't like the idea of her battle mate entering a threatening situation.
"Will he be back in time?" Both their gazes landed on the subject of the question.
"If not he will hologram in to cast his vote." The sigh flittered from Trinity's mouth continued to click. "I have to ask. How long are you going to wait?"
Kallum's brow arched at her prodding question, "You are confusing waiting for stalking."
Another cheer smothered the sceptic snort, though the roll of her eyes was quite distinctive. Rude and irritating. "I've never seen a Yautja stalk sitting down. Do tell, how effective is it? Are you gaining ground on your prey? Has it noticed you yet?"
Sarcastic, rude and irritating. The Halfling had many flaws. "For this particular prey, yes. Ground does not need to be gained, when there are better things to be had. No she hasn't." Trinity's questions were answered in quick succession.
"She's had a bit to drink." Trinity pointed out.
"Precisely. Fresh wounds need to be cleaned before you patch them." Kallum stood, filling the air with his presence. He knew too well Rh'anka's wounds were on the inside.
"How much have you had to drink?" Yautja weren't known for playing fair when the advantage was to be acquired. But there was always a line.
"I don't drink when I'm hunting." Kallum gave a curt nod before descending the platform and entering the buzzing crowd of Yautja.
"Go get'em tiger." Trinity whispered in English, her eyes following the sandy-brown Yautja as he made his way towards his target.
Ooo
Three throwing knives, a pouch of gold hair clasps, and a hunting jackal later, Rh'anka was enjoying showing her fellow male yautja their poor judgement in challenging her in a drinking duel.
She was glad Trinity had brought her here. The c'nlip had warmed the chill in her heart, and her mind was fogged with a giddy haze. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so... happy. Her own laugh at the drunk yautja antics around her surprised even herself.
For too long she had been merely surviving. It left no room for this warm feeling that was starting to bubble in her heart. "My cup's empty." Rh'anka roared at the roof of the tent. Yautja join in with her roar.
Her cup refilled by quick hands, Rh'anka turned to find another challenger.
The uncovered sandy chest with a row of small skulls stretching from shoulder to hip filled her vision. Rh'anka had to blink rapidly to adjust her eyes to its proximity. They finally focused on a tanned scar that sliced across the pectoral.
She knew what had caused the scar. He had seduced her with the story. That was before everything. Her eyes rolled up to seek the Yautja who blocked her path.
Kallum.
"I challenge you." His rough voice held the arrogant surety of his victory. Silence blanketed the tent, waiting quietly for Rh'anka's response.
Mandibles spread in a fake yawn, she turned away from the puffed up Yautja. "I'm tired of winning, I will take no more duals. Not even from you Kallum."
Her flat refusal beckoned a low rubble deep from within the male's chest, "I understand if you are afraid of losing."
Hissing, long strands of hair thick and black flared out as she whirled to face the taunting tone. "Fear has nothing to do with this. I am retiring for the night." She didn't know why she went out of her way to avoid Kallum, every time she thought about him a hunger grew within her. Standing in front of him now, it burned to life. The blazing heat demanding she tackle him to the ground.
It scared her. Acknowledging her chilling thoughts she turned, pushing the mug to her mouth for one last swipe at her drink.
"Very well, I'll let you pass my challenge. You would have lost anyway."
Before the crisp liquid touched her tongue she paused, his words resonating through her, stinging her insides, calling up the aggressive need for his blood. Green eyes snaked to find Kallum, twinkling bright with violent intent. "Terms!" The simple click whipped the air.
The crowd's thrilling roar sounded as a new drinking dual was negotiated.
"A dance." Kallum's condition doused the roar, forcing Yautja to swallow their delight, replacing it with a wheeze of shock.
For the Yautja watching, who had been alive prior to the bad blood invasion, knew it was common to have at least three dances during the Day of the Dead celebrations. There was something about the day that brought primal instincts to the surface. But with no females, the knowledge was lost.
Until seeing it once again roused the fact to the front of their minds. A battle dance, the one on one clash that either ended in reproduction or a sexually frustrated male. Instigated by the female, the male would have to prove himself by gaining the advantage. A hard task when the female tried every vicious tactic she knew to prove he was unworthy.
A dance of wills. A dance of passion.
"Come on Rh'anka, kick his butt!" The Halfling shouted in English from the raised platform, her mug full of c'nlip swung in the air with her laughter. The Ooman language and behaviour understood only by some.
Yautja of all shapes and sizes held their breath, if Rh'anka agreed setting her own terms and Kallum won the drinking dual, this would be the first battle dance observed in over twelve years. The thrill of excitement surged through the air, patient gazes fixed on Rh'anka.
Mandibles clicked together, echoing her thoughts. This could be her chance to get Kallum off her back once and for all. As soon as she had entered the tent she could feel his hot stare caressing her every move. Had caught a glimpse of yellow skin from the raised platform he stalked her from.
Past the smouldering heat in her stomach, Rh'anka couldn't help but be a little pissed off. At every turn she had made it clear she didn't want him. When she had escaped from the Bad Blood King's prison, after Trinity and Mik'ail's mating battle, even when he had come to her quarters she had still rejected him. Did the Yautja not take no for an answer?
Just because they had danced before the invasion didn't mean he had a right to her now. His arrogance made him drunk. She needed to slap him out of it.
So that's what she did.
Instead of setting her terms, she threw the c'nlip in his face and lunged. Her fist landed its blow, Kallum's head whiplashed with the force of her strike. She growled low, "Shove your terms where only the gods can find them."
Kallum ignored the pain flashing in his face. It was only pain. The sharp stab a possible outcome from his hunt. A hunt that went better than he had originally planned. His predatory grin pulled his mandibles up into a gleaming leer as droplets of c'nlip fell to the floor. "I will respond to Rh'anka at a later date. After all she is tired." Kallum shouted for the benefit of the spectating Yautja surrounding them.
Green eyes widened with realisation. "No." Rh'anka's low growl ended in a snarl.
"Yes. So until then, enjoy your night." He trilled and turned to resume his place at the raised platform.
His space quickly filled by congratulating Yautja, patting her on the back. Drums once again filled the air with thick vibrations.
Rh'anka had continued to watch him as he sat down, green smashed against red. His smirk making her claws dig into the skin of her hands.
Damn you Kallum. Damn you.