by Celia Kyle
“You’d better be. Don’t be late!” the older woman snipped.
“I won’t be late. Promise.” Jenna agreed quickly as she edged her way past her siblings. She blew a final kiss to the kids and then slipped out the door.
Jenna tried to keep up her brave face as she marched down the hallway. She hated having to rely on Ms. Carmine. The older woman was a double-edged sword. She was the local “sneak,” who kept her eyes peeled for criminal or unseemly behavior and reported it to the local authorities, which, on the other hand, actually made her a good ally to have. Unfortunately, if Jenna were to step out of line even the slightest bit, she had no doubt in her mind that Ms. Carmine would also report her immediately.
Jenna just needed to return home by midnight—as planned—and then everything would be fine.
She hoped.
Two
Two hours later Jenna’s arms were made of lead.
Or marshmallow.
Marshmellead?
They sure as hell weren’t made of muscle and bone any longer, that was for sure. They were all heavy and noodley at the same time, no doubt due to the hefty trays of champagne flutes and hors d’oeuvres she’d been carrying around.
She worked the grand ballroom on the thirtieth floor of Drokten Main, which was pretty darn opulent. Vaulted ceilings soared above, and wide glossy windows lined one whole side of the room, overlooking the glittering light of the nighttime city. How much money could someone rack up just selling each individual piece of décor in this enormous event space? The number had to be astronomical. And that wasn’t even including the ridiculously expensive designer fashions and the sparkling jewelry worn by the guests.
It was just…wow. She’d worked nice events before, but this was certainly the fanciest. There were real celebrities in attendance as well as high-level politicians. A live jazz band played classy music. It was actually a little intimidating.
Her eyes scanned the room. Unfortunately, she’d been tasked with mainly serving the area where the human glitterati seemed to be gathered. Therefore, she hadn’t yet made it over to the Drokten, who weren’t eating any of the human food or drink.
She bit her lip, staring longingly at the blue warriors grouped across the room near the windows. This was her whole reason for being here—to make big bucks and also to see these alien heroes in real life. It was a huge upside to working the event, as far as she was concerned.
Seeing them from a distance was nice, but she’d love to get closer. Maybe even speak to one of them? Thank them for all they’d done, saving the world…
And then she felt something. A vibration in the air? A scent?
She turned to stare at them again, her eyes scanning the males. They were all so very handsome. Soft sky-blue skin over cut muscles. And none of them wore shirts. The Drokten were either bare chested or they seemed to be all about shiny chest plates of armor. Which was totally fine considering they were all ripped with tight abs and defined pecs. Their muscular arms were the best of all. She just wanted to walk up and touch those biceps. Grab on and…
She shook her head, trying to get back in the game. She was here to work, not to gawk.
Okay, just one more look…
Oh wow, there were even a couple of celebrity-Drokten in attendance. She immediately recognized the faces of the most well-known and respected of the Drokten: Sevith and Hiren. These two were often on the media channels representing their species and explaining their plans to the humans. Sevith was the harsh and intimidating Commander of the Battleship Avash that was stationed in orbit, and Hiren was the talkative warrior largely responsible for negotiating peace between the humans and Drokten. They were even more handsome in real life. They both had shoulder-length navy hair that shone in the ambient light. Their flashing eyes and silver-tipped claws gave them an edge of danger. Sevith and Hiren were essentially alien rock stars, as far as Jenna was concerned. And like any superfan, she chomped at the bit to meet them in person.
“Stop staring at them,” Jade remarked as they brushed past each other, both loaded with trays of food.
Jenna bit her lip. “I’m not.”
“You are. Back to work,” her best friend quipped, tapping the top of her tray where guests had left generous tips. “Dollahz, girl. Dollahz… You’re losing…”
Jenna snorted. And then her friend was gone, lost in the crowd. Jade was gorgeous as always—petite with shiny straight dark hair and sparkling black eyes. Jenna felt like a slow-moving Amazonian giant next to her beautiful friend, who was a dynamo at work.
But Jade was right. It was time to get her head back in the game. Dollahz. The two of them always held a friendly competition when they worked events together, trying to see who would leave the evening with the highest tips. And dammit, no way was Jenna going to lose to Jade, again. That would be two events in a row!
She blew out a breath and turned her attention to the humans.
Champagne bottles popped nearby at least forty different times, and Jenna darted back and forth between attendees and the bar all evening, retrieving whatever manner of upscale drink a customer requested. Many, of course, abstained, but many, many more overly indulged.
Just as she was about to break away from a group of bleary-eyed men—who had definitely had a few too many—one of them reached out and grabbed her wrist with his clammy hand.
“C’mere, pretty thing,” he slurred, trying to tug her toward him.
Oh hell. Why did events always devolve into the pawing?
Jenna yanked her hand back and forced a gracious smile across her lips. “My apologies. I’m on the clock and have work to do. Have a lovely evening.”
She crossed her fingers, hoping her sarcastic tone took a vacay and didn’t insinuate itself into her words. Was this guy too far gone to give a damn? Luckily, he waved a hand dismissively before stumbling off to trail after another pretty girl, this time a party-goer rather than one of the catering staff.
Whew. Jenna heaved a sigh of relief and headed back to the bar to refill her tray of champagne and snacky-snacks, as Bea called them. She gave one of the harried bartenders a nod which he dutifully returned. She stood there, elbow braced on the counter, and scanned the crowded ballroom, people-watching.
And Drokten-watching.
The music tempo had picked up and now small, isolated groups of humans were half-heartedly dancing—mostly gaggles of women who clutched their champagne flutes and grinned at each other with their rosy cheeks and flouncy hair. None of the Drokten were dancing. They were instead watching the humans with amused smiles on their rugged blue faces. Just as one would expect, every single group of women was ringed by a crew of human men who gathered with the purpose of ogling them while they danced. Everywhere Jenna looked was some level of animalistic mating pattern.
This was seriously starting to seem more and more like some sort of singles dance.
Jenna loved how she got to be a fly on the wall at events like this—places she could only dream of attending otherwise. And, tonight of all nights, the Drokten were here and Jenna was absolutely fascinated by the alien race. Especially after they’d done so much to save Earth and asked for so little in return. They were a warrior race, and Jenna was certain they would all feel much more at home on the battlefield than trying to mingle with the tipsy humans.
She looked around, wondering how could she get closer to them and to the commander and his ambassador in particular. She had this vivid fantasy in her mind of finding a way to express her gratitude to them for their intervention when the ravaging Zignills had nearly conquered their planet. The insect-like Zignills had swarmed Earth and taken over half a dozen cities world-wide. Her parents died in the initial invasion, and Jenna was certain she and her siblings would’ve died too if it hadn’t been for the Drokten’s timely intervention. They’d swooped down, defeating their mutual enemy and literally saving the entire planet.
All she wanted to do was give them the heartfelt “thank you” she’d been clutching to herself
all evening.
Unfortunately, several obstacles stood in the way of her desires. Drat. First, the Drokten didn’t quite get on with the humans on an easy, personal level. In fact, Jenna was pretty sure a point of tension hovered in the room, a divide between human and alien that many on both sides were unwilling to cross. The Drokten tended to keep to themselves, standing in clusters and talking seriously among their own kind rather than branching out to mingle with the human partygoers. Also, they weren’t eating or drinking a thing. She’d been warned ahead of time to refrain from offering the Drokten any food.
This meant Jenna hadn’t captured a single moment of freedom from her duties to go to the Drokten side of the room to say her piece.
Every time she’d turned around, another partially drunk attendee was asking for food, drink, or some kind of service. It was damn near impossible to move across the room without being hounded every few steps by a wealthy human looking for a refill on booze.
At least, Jenna thought grimly, she’d been able to keep herself entertained by eavesdropping on the countless conversations happening around her. Some of the discussions fell into the usual party fare: slightly tipsy, upbeat folks mingling and chatting, laughing too loudly at each other’s jokes. Men and women flirted playfully. Married couples whispered gossip to one another about fellow attendees.
Then there had been conversations that struck Jenna as… slightly sinister. She’d overheard what sounded suspiciously like the lingo of less-than-legal business dealings. Vague discussions of contracts, the language abstract and cryptic to keep people from knowing the exact situation at hand. Women and men alike made agreements to “entertain” one another at a later date, perhaps after the party. Jenna noticed these discussions often involved people wearing wedding rings, some she had seen arrive with their spouses only to separate from them during the hustle and bustle of the party. Couples who strolled in hand-in-hand split off to find other suitable playthings for the evening.
There also seemed to be a lot of single women at this event. They were standing together and staring often at the Drokten. Whispering amongst themselves, they tried to get up the nerve to walk over and talk to them.
Was this some sort of old-fashioned matchmaking event?
She stood at the bar and looked around the room at large, trying to interpret the social exchange and the tone of the area. Yep. This was an event for finding a partner. Humans were making matches, but also, she could see some of the Drokten males were now chatting with a few of the young women.
A rush of jealousy hit her hard.
All of these single women in the room tonight were undoubtedly going to be introduced to the Drokten Azi/Bahn pairs and maybe some of them would be a match. Her gaze darted yet again to the mysterious Drokten as she tried to realistically imagine the idea of having two boyfriends. How would that work? What were the logistics of that kind of arrangement, in and out of bed?
Her cheeks flushed as x-rated images flashed through her mind.
No, no, no.
Everyone said these mysterious Drokten warriors worked, lived and mated in pairs, with the addition of one female and they all slept in one family bed together, every single night. As in, um, two husbands and one wife? People thought the alien’s mating habits were disgusting. But, personally, Jenna found the idea of two huge badass-warrior husbands perfectly delightful.
Did that make her weird? She wasn’t sure.
There would be plenty of time to reflect on all this later when she was lying awake in bed, too keyed up from the event to sleep. She had to focus on her work and getting the almighty credits for now.
What was the old saying, that Jade constantly reminded her? Dollah dollah bills, y’all…
“Tray’s ready,” the bartender said in a low voice, gesturing subtly to a corner of the ballroom where a large number of especially well-dressed human elites milled about. “Take it over to Secretary Wells. He wants a steady flow of champagne this evening,”
“Thanks,” Jenna murmured as she carefully took the tray and lifted it over her head.
She scanned the crowd and finally locked onto the round face of Secretary Wells. The head of Drokten/Earth relations. Damn, this was a seriously fancy affair. She carefully walked over, trying to put on her best presentation for this group.
The secretary had his head bent toward a fantastically beautiful young woman with silky mahogany skin and hazel eyes who looked to be about Jenna’s age. There was something about the troubled expression on the girl’s face as the secretary quietly chatted with her…
Jenna strolled over, hitching a smile onto her face as she handed out flutes of bubbly. Most returned her smile when she drew near, but a few others kept speaking as if she wasn’t even present.
Secretary Wells was one of those individuals.
Jenna strained to listen to the discussion the secretary was having with the young woman. She boldly hovered a few feet away from their hushed conversation.
“So, I’ve been informed you are fully prepared to commit yourself to two of those blue bastards?” Secretary Wells hissed in a low voice.
Jenna’s brow furrowed. “Blue bastards”? What kind of conversation was this? She couldn’t help from inching closer.
The girl nodded, though she did wrinkle her nose. “Yes, sir. I have my orders and I’m committed to carrying them out as planned. I’m willing to mate with the aliens.” The answer sounded more rehearsed than sincere to Jenna, but the secretary didn’t seem fazed.
“Good. In that case, you will be handsomely compensated for your sacrifice to your country and your species. Once you have the mating tied up and those damn alien ships are out of our precious atmosphere, the credits will be transferred to your account.” Secretary Wells grumbled, “I want those unnatural creatures gone from our planet and I don’t care what it takes to accomplish that goal.”
Jenna’s heart pounded hard. Was she hearing him right? Was the secretary really discussing how to get rid of the beings who’d saved them all and continued to serve as their only protection from a resurgence of their mutual enemy?
“By whatever means necessary”? Did he mean violence against the Drokten?
Jenna could hardly believe her ears. Surely the secretary knew how valuable these aliens were to human survival? After all, the Drokten saved humanity from near-definite destruction by the Zignills. Shouldn’t the secretary be grateful to them?
All the Drokten seemed to want in return was the opportunity to mate with willing human females.
But Jenna knew a faction of people on the planet, despite all evidence to the contrary—the death, destruction and the near obliteration of their world—seriously believed that Earth never needed the Drokten’s help in the first place for humans to rid themselves of the Zignills. And they were so disgusted with the two-husband mating ritual of the Drokten, they were unable to stand these aliens in their midst. They were willing to cut their nose off to spite their face.
Her nostrils flared and she lifted her chin. She couldn’t abide the secretary’s cruel condemnation of the alien warriors who’d saved humanity. She needed to do something. His hatred was going to blind him to what needed to be done for the safety of their people—the protection of the mightiest ally in the universe. What if Secretary Wells was able to follow through with his plan and actually get rid of the Drokten? What would they all do then when the Zignills reformed and attacked the Earth again? Or when some other species saw the humans as easy pickings? She needed to step in and do what was right, even if it meant risking her job.
Or her life.
If her goal was keeping Bea and Noah safe, exposing this asshole would certainly accomplish that task.
She blew out a breath. She knew what she had to do. She wasn’t sure how, but somehow, she had to warn the Drokten. She needed them to know that they—and their kind—were in danger.
She glanced over at Jade, who met her gaze from across the room and gave her a puzzled look.
What? her frie
nd mouthed.
Jenna pursed her lips, gave a negative shake of her head, and turned away. She put down her empty tray and intercepted a different tray of food, despite the fact that the Drokten hadn’t eaten any human food all evening, and used it as a prop in order to march across the room. Her heart pounded almost painfully, and she felt a little nauseated, but she couldn’t just let this go. She didn’t want to stir up trouble, but at the same time, she knew hurting or killing the great blue warriors was unequivocally wrong.
She strode straight for Sevith and Hiren.
Jenna slipped through a tightly knit throng of Drokten and zeroed in on Hiren first, the tray rattling overhead as she stared up at him with wide eyes and mouth slightly parted.
Hiren’s midnight blue eyes locked with hers, making her heart beat even faster as a surge of warmth flooded between her thighs.
So. Handsome. Just…wow.
She glanced back, caught a glimpse of Secretary Wells from across the room, and remembered her purpose for marching over.
Jenna looked back at the Drokten ambassador who stared at her expectantly. She lowered her tray and swallowed hard. “I-I have something important to tell you. It’s about Secretary Wells.”
Three
Fifteen minutes earlier…
Sevith leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, bored out of his mind.
He glanced at the clock. When could he leave?
And how had he managed to get himself talked into attending this travesty? He could be at his desk, planning out tomorrow’s battle simulations. Instead he was here, at Drokten Main, attending a human party.
He hated parties in general but human parties were worse than usual. These beings were so damn gregarious and friendly, it was truly annoying. And they seemed to be inordinately in love with some sort of drink that caused inebriation. It caused their events to last longer and grow even louder, which was a chore.