Her Alien Mates (The Drift: Haven Colony Book 1)

by Susan Hayes

  She didn’t want him to go. Normally it was the other way around. She’d been separated from her batch-siblings and then sent on missions to new places with new faces every few days. Later, she’d been freed and invited to join the colony, and she’d said goodbye to Nyx and her only friends to come to Haven. She’d thought leaving was hard, but now she realized there was something harder—being the one left behind.

  The decision on when to get up was taken out of their hands when the ship’s AI announced a drone was outside signaling it wished to make a delivery. Kade had hopped out of bed and dashed off, only stopping long enough to grab a pair of pants. “I’ll be right back.”

  Once he was gone, she rose, grabbed her bag, and padded over to the sanitation cubby. While the rest of his quarters were almost luxurious, this area was surprisingly utilitarian. The walls and floor were covered in pale blue tiles with matching fixtures, and the entire room was one big shower stall. It seemed like a waste of space until she remembered Kade’s wings. He’d need the room to unfold them and get properly clean.

  Thoughts of him naked—wings outstretched, golden skin slick with water and steam—filled her head as she used the facilities and freshened herself up. The mating mark on her neck was hidden when she wore her hair down, so she pulled it back into a ponytail. She wanted everyone to see it. It was the only scar she had. Every injury she’d ever received had healed cleanly thanks to her medi-bots, but this one was different. Going into the sharhal had triggered a number of changes in both of them, but her reaction was only an echo of what he was undergoing. His body had started producing an enzyme that had caused her to scar, ensuring she would wear his mark forever. If she’d been Vardarian, she would have marked him the same way.

  Kade returned, his bare feet almost silent on the deck plating but still more than loud enough for her enhanced hearing to detect.

  “Breakfast will be ready in a bit. Until then…” he appeared at the door, holding a simple box of polished metal in his hands. “I have something for you.”

  “Is that what I think it is?” A little thrill ran through her. The box was about the right size for a pair of armbands, one for each of them. She might not be able to mark him, but if he wore the armband, everyone would know he was a mated male. It wasn’t that she was worried he’d stray. Vardarians mated for life. He’d have no interest in any other female for as long as they both lived, but still… she touched the scar on her throat. The idea of marking him appealed to her.

  “I’m not the one who reads minds. What do you think it is?” he teased her.

  “I think those are our harani. Where did you get them? And I don’t read thoughts, just emotions. And I can’t even do that right now. It’s unsettling. I feel like I’ve lost one of my senses.”

  “I’m sure it will come back. It’s likely just the sharhal. There have been so few matings between our species, no one really knows how it affects humans. If you’re worried, go see the healers. They would be happy to run more tests and ask you countless questions so they can learn more about how it works with humans.”

  She wrinkled her nose and tried to suppress a shudder. “I am a little worried, but not enough to agree to more tests.” She’d been created in a lab and had endured countless procedures and experiments in her time with the Gray Men. If her ability didn’t come back after the mating fever ended, she’d go see them, but she wasn’t in any rush.

  “Sorry. I forgot how you feel about healers.” He took her hand and led her back to the bed. He sat down and then drew her onto his lap, one arm around her waist and the other holding the box. “These were custom made by the same males who created your dagger.”

  She relaxed into his embrace, letting his touch distract her from thoughts of her past. “They made them so quickly?”

  “They did. I wanted something different for us.” He held the box in front of her. “Open it.”

  Two armbands were nestled in black silk inside—one large, one smaller. She lifted the larger one out first. It was similar to others she’d seen, made to encircle Kade’s bicep, but with a difference. It had three hammered metal bands woven into the figure-eight design instead of two.

  “I’ve never seen metal this color before.” She touched the third band, which was a shade of gray so dark it was almost black.

  He tapped each color as he named them. “Gold for me. White gold for you. The black metal is tarchozin. It represents the third member of our trio.”

  “Denz,” she breathed the name softly. “You had these made to include him.” Emotions so tangled she couldn’t recognize half of them welled up inside her. He’d done this for her. She wanted to cry, or hug him, or say something deep and meaningful, but the words were locked in her throat.

  “For Denz, or, if he’s foolish enough to let you go, for someone else. If that’s your wish, that is. Most harani are two strands because the males have already been bonded to each other. One band represents the two anrik, and the other is the female. Denz is not my anrik, but he might be your mate.”

  She threw an arm around his neck and kissed him, pleasure and delight breaking through all the other emotions she was feeling. “It’s perfect! Does he know about this? Wait, if you had these made, where’s the third one?”

  He laughed and kissed her back. “It’s being made now. I wanted you and me to have ours before I left. You can decide when to present the third one to your chosen mate. You don’t need to rush into that decision. I don’t really understand how humans make that choice. It seems insanely complicated to have to decide for yourself who you want to be with.”

  “Honestly, I think your way is easier in a lot of ways.” She tapped his shoulder, and he raised his arm so she could affix the armband, squeezing it between her fingers so it fit comfortably around his arm. “Good?”

  He looked at his arm with a trace of awe in his expression. “Perfect. I never imagined I’d wear one of these.”

  “You are my mahoyen, Kade D’vrayn. Now and always.”

  His brow furrowed and his lips tightened. It was a micro-expression, so tiny and quick only a cyborg could have seen it. She didn’t know why her words had concerned him, but they had. If only she could have read his emotions, she might be able to sense what bothered him.

  “Now and always,” he repeated. Then he lifted her band out and showed it to her. The bands of hammered metal were slimmer, but the design was identical to his. She held out her arm, and he slid it into place, securing it with a squeeze of his hands. He was smiling as he looked at her, not a hint of his earlier unhappiness in his eyes. “My mahaya.”

  He drew her in close, kissing her with a heat that brought the embers of her desire back to life with a roar. He pulled her hair out of its ponytail and wrapped it around one fist, tipping her head to one side as he kissed her mouth, her jaw, and down the line of her throat to her mating mark. “Mine,” he growled.

  He rose with her in his arms, carrying her to the sanitation cubby. He kicked her bag out of the space and then raised his voice. “Ship. Activate the shower. Standard temperature setting. And postpone breakfast for at least twenty minutes.”

  The shower came on, soaking both them and the small amount of clothing they wore. She laughed and let her head fall back so the water cascaded over her face, her arms still around Kade’s neck. She didn’t love him yet, but at that moment, she knew without a doubt that she would love him, and that day was coming soon.

  Another day, another meeting. At least this time there was only one topic to cover, but it was an important one. Torex Mining Corporation had sent yet another unsolicited offer seeking to buy back the mineral rights to the planet. According to the document he was reading, they were claiming that their duly appointed representative didn’t have the legal authority to agree to the deal in the first place. It was a bald-faced lie, of course. Raymond Gunns had been sent to negotiate in the corporate free-for-all that had followed the arrival of the first Vardarian scout ship.

  Prince Tyran and his anrik, B
raxon, had been searching for a planet to colonize, and they’d been willing to invite the newly freed cyborgs to the colony. Torex had already been in a legal battle over the planet at the time. They held the rights to the unnamed planet, but it had been quietly colonized by Raze, who had lived there in isolation long enough to make a claim of his own. The corporations and the military needed a planet to give to the prince. Torex had one that fit all the criteria. Gunns had given in to the collective pressure. He hadn’t had a choice, and neither did Torex. That hadn’t stopped them from trying to reclaim some portion of what they’d had. What Denz didn’t understand was why. The mining corporation held the rights to entire systems. So what was so special about Liberty?

  He put down his terminal and looked around the table at the others. Raze had flown in for this meeting, which was an indication of how serious it was. The cyborg was a loner who preferred to stay in his valley on the far side of the mountains with his mate. Sevda was with him. She didn’t officially have a seat on the council, but she had worked for Torex for years and often had valuable insight into the corporate mindset. The prince was here, along with the cyborg reps, River and Edge, who were studiously ignoring each other from opposite sides of the table. Zanyr’s chair was empty. The Vardarian was running late and had sent a message that he’d be along as soon as he could. He was an agriculturalist, and the demands of his job made it difficult for him to get away without advanced notice, especially this close to harvest time.

  Edge grunted. “This again. Why can’t they just accept that they aren’t getting the planet back?”

  Sevda shrugged. “They don’t like to lose.”

  Tyran shifted in his chair, and something about the gesture drew Denz’s attention. He’d played cards with the prince often enough to know his tells.

  He caught the other male’s eye and cocked a brow.

  Tyran sighed and put his hands on the table in front of him. “They must know about the tarchozin.”

  Everyone frowned in confusion but Sevda, who sat back with a gasp. “There’s tantalum on this planet?”

  “Vast amounts of it, in fact. Most of it located on the other continent,” Tyran confirmed.

  Denz hadn’t recognized the Vardarian word, but he knew what tantalum was. It was a mineral with dozens of uses, especially in electronics. It was also exceedingly rare.

  Edge leaned forward, his face twisted into anger. “How long have your kind known about this? Why keep it a secret?”

  Tyran sighed again. “It’s not a secret. It just wasn’t something we considered important.”

  Edge stiffened. “What else don’t you think is important enough to share with the rest of us?”

  There it was again, that damned “them versus us” attitude. It was a bigger threat to the colony’s future than any carnivore or fraxxing corporation. He tapped a finger on the table to get the cyborg’s attention. “We’re all on the same side, Edge.”

  The big cyborg eased back in his chair with a slight nod of acknowledgment, but he was still radiating anger and frustration.

  Tyran raised his hands palms up and then set them down again. “It was not an intentional oversight. Vardarian tech is crystalline based. We don’t use the same components you do. We had no idea the ore was of significant value to humans until recently. The geological surveys were done and filed, but the tantalum was only noted for its potential uses as we understood them.”

  “And what was that, exactly?” Edge asked, but his tone had softened now.

  “Jewelry. Surgical equipment. And as an alloy to strengthen other metals.”

  Sevda sputtered. “You use it to make jewelry?”

  In answer, Tyran touched the collar of his vest, where threads of what Denz had assumed was silver were woven into the design. “We do.”

  “Talk about cultural differences,” Sevda remarked. “That shirt would go for a tidy profit on the open market.”

  Tyran relaxed enough to grin at her. “Exactly. It wasn’t that we were hiding it from you. It was just buried in a report none of us read in detail.”

  “Apologies,” Edge said to Tyran.

  “Accepted,” Tyran replied.

  Denz redirected the conversation and pointed to his terminal. As important as this was, he hoped to get through everything quickly. Shadow had been on his mind constantly since yesterday, and he wanted to see her again. Soon.

  “So, what are we going to do about this? Torex is lying through their gold-plated teeth, but that won’t stop them from trying to get a court to overturn the agreement if they think the tantalum is worth more than it will cost them in legal fees.”

  “Which is a problem,” Tyran agreed. “But I have a more pressing concern. How did Torex learn about the deposits at all? They haven’t been granted access to our surveys or any other data about this planet.”

  “And I only got a few minutes of scanning time before I was forced to land and make repairs. Torex didn’t get the information from me,” Sevda said.

  Edge gave her a slight nod. “I wasn’t going to say that.”

  “But you were thinking it,” Sevda retorted. “I know you have no reason to trust humans, Edge, but I was a victim of the corporations too.”

  The big cyborg nodded again, more deeply this time. “And you and Raze are the reason we are here at all. I haven’t forgotten.”

  “Spies?” Raze suggested. During a moment of silence, they all considered that. Vardarians could be bribed or coerced. The cyborgs could be programmed to act as sleeper agents and not even be aware of it. It was something they all worried about, but they couldn’t do anything about it right now…if it was happening at all.

  River spoke up for the first time. “I think it was a different kind of spying. The unauthorized fly-overs. I bet if we review their flight paths, it’ll show a pattern.” She activated the holographic display and started transferring data from her hand terminal to it, tossing them with flicks of her fingers. In a matter of minutes, they could see the pattern forming over both continents of the planet. All of them were over unoccupied areas, and the majority were focused on the other continent.

  Tyran added the locations of richest mineral and ore deposits from his terminal. The correlation was obvious. “They got the information themselves, one flight at a time,” he said, his voice thick with anger. “This is the same area we’ve had a few ships try to land too.”

  “That explains why Torex is trying to turn up the pressure. They probably thought they could continue this way, but then we started putting up satellites and working on the defense grid.” River tossed more data into the projection, and the planet was suddenly encircled by a defensive shield of soft gold.

  “They’re about to be cut off,” Denz agreed. “But now we know what they’re up to, I think it’s time we let our friend Archer know what’s going on.” Colonel Scott Archer ran the day-to-day operations of the military stationed at the Drift. He’d been part of the initial rounds of negotiations, and he’d led the team sent to rescue River and the other cyborgs. He’d made sure the right people learned what Torex was up to.

  “And I will let Phaedra know what’s going on,” Tyran said.

  Denz chuckled. “Which means Princess Pipsqueak will dive into cyberspace and not come back until she knows everything about the ships that did those fly-bys, including names, known associates, current whereabouts, and what they had for lunch.”

  “She really hates it when you call her that,” Tyran said.

  “I know. Why do you think I do it?” Denz said.

  “I would have guessed it was because you needed a little danger in your life. But I hear you’ve taken up with a retired assassin and an off-world trader, so that can’t be it.”

  The new voice came from behind him, and Denz turned to greet Zanyr. “Good to see you. Does the whole colony know about that? I knew the cyborgs were gossips, but I expected it to take a few days to spread to everyone else.”

  “Gossip travels on wings faster than any Vardarian can fl
y,” Zanyr said, walking into the room. His boots were caked with dirt, his clothes smelled of machinery oil, and his gold skin had a reddish cast to it that Denz had learned was the Vardarian version of a tan.

  Tyran rose and greeted the latecomer. “Good to see you, Zan.”

  “Sorry I wasn’t here sooner. I had some trouble with the droids. Two of them somehow wound up assigned to the same field. They did some damage to the crops and even more to each other.”

  “Programming glitch?” River asked.

  “Had to have been. Never seen it happen before, though. I’m going to have a tech come out and do a full diagnostic on the whole fleet in the next few days. Don’t want that happening again.” He took his seat at the table. “What did I miss?”

  The others gave Zanyr the gist of the discussion. Denz barely listened. After a few minutes, he picked up his terminal and scrolled through the rest of his day. There was nothing urgent. One by one, he reviewed and rescheduled every task until his afternoon was clear. Then he messaged Shadow to see if she was free this afternoon.

  While he waited for her answer, he pondered what to make her for dinner. He’d hit the markets yesterday, but he’d still have to pick up a few things depending on what he decided to serve her. He was making a list of dishes and the ingredients he’d need when he noticed the room had gone silent.

  He looked up and found everyone looking at him with amusement. “What?”

  “I was asking if you had anything to add before we adjourned the meeting, but it’s pretty clear you adjourned yourself a while ago. Date night?” Tyran asked, not even bothering to try and hide his smirk.

  “I’m cooking for Shadow tonight.”

  Sevda beamed. “That’s so romantic. I remember the first time Raze cooked for me. That’s when I knew he was the one. A man who can cook is a rare find.”

  Raze chuckled. “I thought you loved me because I rescued you from a flash flood and carried you back to my cabin while you napped.”