BOOTY HUNTER

by Huss, JA

  “You’re thinking,” he continues when I stay silent, “that we’re new, and fresh. And all this light-fucking and galaxy-breaking sex will fade over time.” He opens his eyes. “But I’m gonna tell you something right now, Princess Lyra.”

  “What will you tell me?” I tease. Because I want to believe him. I really do.

  “You’re my fucking fated mate. The other half of my soul. I don’t care if I only met you yesterday, this is biology. Crux told me about it.”

  “What?” I say, my heart speeding up. “What did he tell you?”

  I knew it. I fucking knew they were talking secrets earlier.

  “He told me they genetically engineer you princesses to have one true soulmate. And then he hinted that we Akeelians are those mates. So it’s real, Lyra. This is real. You’re mine and I’m yours. And there’s nothing, not a goddamned thing, either of us can do to change that.”

  I kiss him again so I don’t have to reply. I kiss him on the mouth. He opens up for me, parts his lips to allow my tongue inside, and whispers, “I’ll never let you go. Ever.”

  We kiss a little longer as I think about that proclamation. Wonder if it could really work out for us.

  Not likely. Even if this soulmates thing is true, there’s not a whole lot about my future that will excite him. Not the way he thinks, anyway.

  And that reminds me of Nyleena. What is she doing right now? What are they doing to her? Two days—three probably, if you count my transport time. We’ve been separated for three days. So much could’ve happened in three days. I mean, look at me. Three days ago I was a slave locked in a cryopod. Yesterday I was still under the inhibitor and so many things happened I don’t have time to list them in this mental conversation. And today I attended the memorial service of Draden and Ceres of Harem Station as a family member. Or, at the very least, an honored guest.

  This shit is crazy. Utterly insane.

  And the whole reason I was sent to escort Nyleena was because I’m the calm one. The sensible one. The one people rely on to not give in to the crazy.

  And now look at me. I might be soul-mated to Serpint the Booty Hunter.

  If I have gone this wild, deviated this far off my path, and I’m me?

  Then what the hell is Nyleena getting up to back on Bull Station? There’s no way they didn’t remove her from her cryopod. These guys here on Harem, they know things. They have restraint when it comes to coveted silver princesses. Those guys back on Bull, they’re the complete opposite.

  She’s the wild one. She’s the crazy one. You have to be to become what they made her into. And it was my job to get her safely to the other side of the galaxy and now the whole plan is fucked.

  Utterly fucked.

  I force myself not to think about it. I can’t think about it. I just need to let it go for now.

  Just one night. That’s all I want. Just one more night as this princess they think I am. Because I know, I feel it in my heart, that deep down Serpint and his Harem Station family are good people.

  And when they find out what I’ve set out to do… what we, the high-order princesses of Cygnia, were born to do… they will stop me.

  They will lock me up. Lock all of us up, even the clueless low-order ones they keep up in that special harem. And never, ever want to see a Cygnian princess again as long as they live.

  “Lyra?” Serpint says.

  “Hmmm?” I mumble, feigning sleepiness.

  “We need to go again.”

  Oh, for sun’s sake. I forgot. You can’t ever just have one good time with an Akeelian.

  “I have a headache,” I murmur, opening one eye cautiously and staring at the wall, waiting to see if he’ll buy that.

  He turns me over, swipes a piece of hair off my cheek, and places his palm on my forehead. “Are you OK?” he asks. “You’re not getting sick, are you?” Real concern in his voice.

  Which just makes me feel like shit.

  “No,” I say. “No. My head is just pounding with… pounding things.”

  He smiles at me, then huffs out a small laugh. “Pounding things, huh?”

  I nod, staring up at his violet eyes. He glows too. Not like me, but he does have light inside him. What’s up with that light? I want to ask but I really do not want to have sex again and I know if we start talking about personal stuff like that again I won’t be able to talk my way out of it. Or he’ll talk me into it. Or, more likely, I’ll just lose control again and explode like the sun.

  So I don’t ask about it. I close my eyes, turn back over and say, “Can you finish without me?”

  Meaning… There’s the lotion and the bathroom, dude. Knock yourself out.

  He’s silent for a moment. But then he says, “Sure, princess. Sure. That’s how I’ve been starting and ending my days for as long as I can remember. So no problem. You get some sleep.”

  And then he kisses me on the back of the head, gets out of bed, and goes into the bathroom.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN - SERPINT

  In the morning I don’t bother Lyra with sex. Just get up, go into the bathroom, and do my usual routine. Something is up with her, I can just feel it. Something big, too.

  But also… I don’t want to be rejected again and I know she will reject me if I try to turn her on.

  I don’t like that feeling.

  And it’s not because I never get rejected by women, it’s just that I don’t want to be rejected by this woman in particular. I don’t want to work for it like I had to last night. I want her to light up for me because she can’t stop herself.

  Which is all kinds of weird because three days ago I didn’t even know this girl. I had no long-term relationship in mind, and hell, I hadn’t even been with a woman in months because Draden, Ceres, Booty and I were on the other side of the galaxy where all the weird ones live.

  And two days ago I was telling myself that stealing the queen was a huge mistake. And it was, but only because Draden and Ceres were killed. Because if I had not stolen the queen I wouldn’t have come back home to Harem in time to see Lyra all wild and feral in the harem room.

  And my life would be so different right now.

  Better? Or worse? I ask myself.

  Funny that. Because I want to say better and worse. I want Draden and Ceres to be alive but I also want to be right here, with Lyra, thinking about how she’s my soulmate.

  For fuck’s sake. I think I need therapy.

  I step out of the shower, wrap a towel around myself, and walk into the bedroom, hoping she’s awake.

  She’s not.

  I’m even kind of loud as I get dressed. And when I sit down on the bed to pull on my boots, I bounce it a little, hoping to wake her up.

  She doesn’t move.

  Is she faking it?

  “Lyra,” I say. Nothing. “Lyra!”

  “Hmmm,” she mumbles, turning over. Her hair is even pinker today than it was yesterday. And she’s got a soft glow to her skin. Not quite light, but not quite not, either.

  “Are you awake?”

  “Mmmm.”

  I’m not sure if that’s a yes or a no.

  But eventually I decide it’s a no and walk out into the living room, pinch my fingers together, open up a screen, and start typing a message to the medical clinic.

  “What are you doing?” Lyra asks.

  I look down the hall and find her standing naked in the bedroom doorway. Rubbing her eyes and trying to get her mess of pink hair off her face.

  “Making us an appointment.”

  “What kind of appointment?” she burbles out, groggily.

  “I think we need to talk some things over.”

  She makes a face at me. “What kind of things?”

  “Just get dressed.”

  She smiles at me and says, “I guess I’ll have to go shopping then,” and turns back into the bedroom.

  I sigh. Because I feel like I’m losing her. I feel like the magic we had yesterday morning is fading and I hate that.

  When I land
ed Booty the other day I felt so alone. Two of my partners were gone and Booty was sick. Hell, she’s still offline. And then Lyra burst into my life and took over. And even the stupid bot was starting to feel like he was part of our new little circle.

  I don’t want to be alone again. I don’t ever want to feel the way I did when I landed the other day. I will miss Draden and Ceres every day for the rest of my life, but is it so bad to want partners again?

  “Found something!” Lyra calls from the bedroom. “Should be here in a few minutes so I’m gonna jump in the shower!”

  “Cool!” I call back. “I’ll get us some breakfast and we can eat it on the way.”

  And I realize I’m smiling because the idea of auto-cooking us some breakfast and then walking out of my quarters with somewhere to be—together—feels good. Feels right.

  I walk over to the kitchen, punch in my usual—breakfast biscuits—and make two cups of coffee to go while I wait for the food to be printed.

  I can’t lose her. I will do whatever it takes to make this girl happy. Anything.

  But I can’t do that until I know what she needs. And she’s not going to tell me that until she trusts me.

  So. A trip to the medical center is in order.

  We eat our breakfast in the elevator as we ride up to the harem. Lyra is dressed in… well… not what I expected. I expected something like yesterday. Nice slacks, flat shoes, and a frilly, romantic top.

  That’s not what I see when I look over at her now and force a smile.

  She’s wearing a synthetic black bodysuit. The kind you see the assassin girls wear on the station. The kind that hugs her curves in a very sexy way and has a zipper that starts right between her legs and goes all the way up to her cleavage. Which is ample, at the moment. I think she’s got one of those sexy push-up bras on under that bodysuit.

  And she’s got tall boots on. Tall as in they go all the way up to her thighs, and tall as in the pointy fucking heels are high enough that I’m worried she’s gonna break an ankle every time she takes a step.

  But she danced and twirled for me just before we got into the elevator. Like she was born to wear dangerous boots.

  I love all of this—on any other girl but her, that is.

  “I think I need a gun,” Lyra says. “Where can I get a laser rifle like that hostess had yesterday?”

  I just raise one eyebrow at her and scowl.

  “What?”

  “Why do you need a gun?”

  She points to my hip and then my leg. “You have two.”

  “I’m a man.”

  She crinkles her nose at me. “You did not just say that.”

  I’m about to put my foot down about the laser rifle when the elevator door opens. Lyra shoves the remaining bite of her breakfast biscuit into her mouth, then drops her napkin into a trash bin as we step into the harem room.

  There’s a couple dozen princesses lounging around on the various couches and chairs, all gabbing incessantly as they drink their tea and eat their fruit.

  Every single one of them turns to look at us as we enter and then there’s an audible gasp when they spot Lyra.

  She stops in her tracks, then squares her shoulders and continues walking. “Where are we going, anyway?”

  “What was that all about?”

  “What was what about?”

  “Why did all the girls stop and gasp at you?”

  She shrugs, just as I place my hand on the small of her back to guide her towards the medical center. “Probably because I’m a sexy pink princess who looks like she’s about to kill them.”

  Truth, I decide.

  “Why are we going to the medical center? Do I need to do something to get my communicator to work? No one chimed me yesterday to let me know it was online.”

  “Oh, yeah,” I say. “I’ll have to ask ALCOR about that.”

  “If we’re not here for that, then why are we here?” she asks, just as the door to the medical center opens.

  But the cyborg master is waiting for us. He’s wearing a jacket with elbow patches, a pair of gray slacks, and a fake lens over his one cyborg eye like he’s wearing glasses.

  “What the fuck are you wearing?” I ask him.

  He looks down at himself, then back at me, and says, “My therapist outfit.”

  “Therapist?” Lyra says.

  “Whatever,” I say, nodding to the master. “Where do you want us?”

  “We’re going to therapy?” Lyra says.

  “This way,” the master says, leading us down the hallway.

  “Why the hell are we going to therapy?” Lyra says, stopping in her tracks.

  “Because something is wrong,” I say, taking Lyra’s hand and pulling her down the hallway.

  “How could something be wrong? I just met you three days ago.”

  “Just…” I sigh and rub my temple with one finger. “Just humor me, OK? I think we need to talk this whole soulmates thing through, that’s all.”

  “That’s all?” she asks, stopping at the threshold to the office. Then she crinkles her nose as she takes in the room.

  There are two therapy couches. So when I sit down on one, and she sits down on the other, we’ll be facing each other.

  “And…” I add, tugging her into the room so the door can close behind us. “I think you’re keeping things from me and I need to know what.”

  She folds her arms across her breasts—which are practically popping out of her bodysuit—and scowls.

  “What?” I ask.

  “You ambushed me.”

  “It’s not an ambush, Lyra,” the master says.

  “And are you kidding me right now? He’s the therapist? What part of ‘I don’t like this guy’ don’t you get? Because I thought I made that clear. Several times.”

  “Lyra,” the master says, sitting in his giant, wingback, leather chair and crossing his legs as he looks up at us from over the top of his fake glasses and pretends to makes notes on a tablet. “I’m certified in—”

  “Thirty billion different couples’ therapy techniques for seventy billion different species. I know. All you people seem to be certified in everything. Maybe that’s the problem with this place. Don’t you believe in specialists?” She turns to look at me. “Serpint, what’s going on?”

  “I just think we need to talk,” I say, rubbing her arm. “Can we do that? Please?”

  She frowns. “About what?”

  “About us. About this bond thing. And the way you light up. And then… the way you didn’t light up. Last night. We had to work for it, Lyra. It’s never happened before. It’s not normal.”

  “We’ve known each other three days,” she protests. “We don’t even know what normal is yet! And besides, what makes you think this jerk knows anything about me or why I do things?”

  The cyborg master opens his mouth to assure her of his qualifications, but the answer, “I know many things about you, Lyra,” is omnipresent and comes from everywhere. And it’s ALCOR talking now, not the master.

  Lyra scowls again.

  “Please,” ALCOR says. “Just take a seat and relax. We’ll get to the bottom of things.”

  She looks worried at that comment. Like she doesn’t want to get to the bottom of things.

  That makes my heart pound because now I know… my fear is real.

  I’m about to lose her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT - LYRA

  It was an ambush. And now I’m trapped in this room with that vile cyborg and ALCOR has been called in to “get to the bottom of things.”

  Which means they know.

  They might not know specifics. In fact I’m sure they don’t. But they know something is going on with me.

  “So…” Serpint says, breaking the silence. “Sit?”

  I sigh as I walk around the couches, take a seat on one, and sit back.

  Serpint does the same, never taking his eyes off me.

  “OK,” the monster master says. “What kind of questions do you have for Lyra,
Serpint?”

  His eyes never unlock from mine. He just stares at me with that dim, violet glow and says nothing.

  “I’ll start,” ALCOR says. “Lyra, what do you think is happening with you and Serpint?”

  I huff out an annoyed sigh. “We’re… attracted to each other.” Serpint smiles. Faintly, but it’s a good start. “I like him.” He smiles bigger. “And… the things that happen to me when we’re intimate are… surprising.”

  “Surprising how?” Serpint asks.

  “You know,” I say. “The light. Coming from…” I wave my hand over my pussy area. “And everywhere else.”

  “Why was that surprising?” ALCOR asks.

  “Because that’s not… normal.”

  “What is normal?” Serpint asks.

  For sun’s sake. How did I get myself in this situation?

  “Lyra?” ALCOR prods.

  “You know. Regular light. Not… universe-imploding light.”

  “Why do you think it’s happening?” the vile master asks.

  And here’s the problem. I have a few thoughts about this that I didn’t mention to Serpint yet. I told him about the soulmate bond thing, but there’s more to it than that. So much more. The actual problem is… I don’t even know if that soulmate thing is true or just a myth. I only know the other part, the part I should not talk about, is true. One hundred percent true.

  “Lyra?” Serpint asks. His voice is low and a little bit soft. Not persuasive or forceful. He’s confused, I can see that now. Not angry, not upset that I didn’t glow enough last night during sex. He’s not here to make himself feel better about his performance. We’re here because he wants to fix whatever he thinks is wrong with us.

  Never mind that this us we’re all referring to is so new, I can barely wrap my head around it. He doesn’t care. He… loves me. He said that too. And I didn’t say it back. And now he’s worried that he let this bond take a hold of him and I’m going to somehow rip it apart.

  “I’m not going to do that,” I say, looking him in the eyes.