The Game Warden's Mate: An Alien Abduction Romance (The Hunt Book 1)

by A. M. Griffin

But staying on Ceriun would also present a problem. Without him watching over her and deterring hunters away, Esme was bound to be captured, hurt or worse. She could end up dead. That was a very steep price to pay to satisfy the greed of a few bureaucrats. If it weren’t for Bradliix’s promise to watch over Esme, Xrez would’ve left, consequences be damned.

  To Xrez’s surprise, Bradliix had vowed to intervene if danger came her way. It was the confirmation Xrez needed to understand precisely how vital Bradliix thought meeting with the bureaucrats was. Bradliix wouldn’t think to intervene for any other reason.

  “Xrez, Head of House Ym’ihla, Dar’E from the planet Pi Vesna,” Trokkid, one of the bureaucrats stated loudly. All of his five eyes focused on Xrez. “You came to speak with us?”

  No. He’d come to listen to them ramble about matters that weren’t his concern.

  Xrez stood. His muscles were sore from sitting for so long.

  After being able to run free and stretch his muscles and senses, sitting for long periods was physically and mentally draining. He ignored the cracking in his bones and adjusted his clothes. He wore the traditional dress of his homeworld. The haey covered most of his body, the gold around his neck was gaudy but expensive, and he’d known he’d made the right choice to wear it when more than one bureaucrat had given it appraising looks.

  Xrez folded his hands in front of him, displaying his long black claws. He wanted to remind them that he had credits to spare, but he also wanted them to remember how dangerous the Dar’E were. He could rip a few heads off before the security detail at the door could help them in any way.

  There were five bureaucrats in attendance. There were more, but not everyone had to be present for the meeting to commence. They were gathered around a high table with equally high chairs. Xrez figured that one probably insisted on a chair higher than the others and before long everyone sat in a ridiculous chair.

  They were dressed as expensive as him. Xrez found that humorous as well. To an outsider, they all must’ve looked ridiculous. It was the chair situation, but instead of trying to set higher than each other, they were trying to outshine the other.

  Xrez had never met many of the bureaucrats whose attention he now held. They were as different as the worlds they’d come from and all staring him down.

  “I was told there was a meeting to discuss The Hunt and cleared my schedule to attend.”

  Xrez watched the metal object that protruded through Sego’s nose instead of trying to look him in one of his eyes. They all worked independently of one another, and it was hard to figure out which eye to focus on.

  “How gracious of you to come and see us,” Nuls, the bureaucrat representing Oz’ak stated in a gravelly voice.

  Glad to turn away from Sego, Xrez addressed Nuls. “The pleasure is all mine.”

  “We tried to meet with you before. Unfortunately, all our efforts were turned down by that Nami your father employed.” Thruzon’s chair groaned under his weight. “Please tell me you’ve gotten rid of him. I always found the Nami to be a pain to deal with.”

  Probably because Bradliix had informants everywhere who told him everything. Without Bradliix, Xrez wouldn’t have known about this very meeting. Which was how the bureaucrats preferred it, Xrez guessed.

  “Bradliix is still with me until he decides to retire.”

  Thruzon adjusted his girth again, and the chair creaked and strained under his weight. “I’m sure you aren’t here to bore us with your assistant.”

  Xrez wanted to point out that it was Thruzon who’d brought Bradliix up in the first place but held his tongue. “No, I didn’t. I heard you were meeting about The Hunt and as the game warden, I thought I should be in attendance.”

  “Uninvited,” Trokkid pointed out.

  Mirze raised her hand, silencing the room. She was an elderly female from the planet, Eltet. She’d held her bureaucratic seat longer than anyone in attendance. It may not have been spoken out loud, but Mirze held the most power at the moment.

  “Xrez, we added a discussion regarding The Hunt to our agenda because we have some concerns. We didn’t invite you because we wanted to discuss our thoughts internally first before taking them to you. But seeing how you’re here, I don’t see any problem with moving forward.” Mirze glanced around the room. “If anyone objects let them speak now.”

  There were a few grunts but no objections.

  “Well then, we can proceed,” Mirze continued. “We have allowed this illegal game of your family’s to continue for a very long time at great peril to our reputations, stations, and position. All of us have inherited the agreements made by our predecessors and your family. We have participated in those agreements as a way to honor those who came before us, now we’re wondering why we should continue when we have the most at stake to lose?”

  “Forgive me for pointing out that my family has shared the profits made from The Hunt with not only everyone in this room, but with your predecessors, going back many generations. But it does sound as if you haven’t received those payments as promised?”

  “We’ve received them.”

  “But we don’t know if the credits are worth continuing this business relationship,” Sego interjected.

  “If the Federation found out about our sanction of The Hunt we would have much to lose. Everyone here would be stripped of our titles and duties.”

  “As would I,” Xrez said. “My family would lose our business. Turolois would be seized. All our employees would be out of jobs. My accounts would be frozen and eventually emptied by the Federation, and I would most likely be imprisoned for the rest of my natural life. Surely we can all agree that I would have the most to lose.”

  Trokkid angled toward Xrez and squinted at him. “In all due respect, this meeting wasn’t called to order to review what you had to lose, it was to discuss what we had to lose.”

  “In all due respect, Trokkid. We all would lose if the Federation found out about our relationship.”

  The bureaucrats grunted in unison.

  “Is the issue the number of credits that are deposited into your accounts?” Xrez asked.

  Nuls flicked his slender purple fingers in the air. “It’s not that. It’s the risk that you are now taking with The Hunt.”

  “Risks?” Xrez asked.

  Had they found out that he’d been participating? Who could’ve told? His employees were loyal to him, they were often generational. Many of the employees had gotten their position on the recommendation of a family member. His family relied on those recommendations since they couldn’t post open positions on the links.

  “We turned a blind eye when you took the lower lifeforms as prey, as you call them, but we’ve heard some disturbing news that we’ve since substantiated. This round of The Hunt is comprised of humans. The entire lot.”

  “Humans!” Sego huffed, showing his indignation with a flurry of movements. “Who would think of such a thing?”

  “My father.”

  “We knew Osazo suffered from the pertinax virus that he’d refused to cure and would soon lose his mind, but this?”

  “I assure you that my father was not suffering dementia associated with the pertinax virus when he organized this round. He didn’t have the virus long enough to progress to the end stages.”

  “So Osazo acted recklessly then? He knew his time was ending soon and had decided to ignore one of the most sacred laws set forth by the Galactic Federation of Planets?”

  Osazo reckless? Xrez tried to tamp down the anger boiling under his skin. His father had died at his desk, thinking of nothing but The Hunt. Osazo had lived, ate and dreamed of The Hunt. He’d understood how when he was gone his name would be added to a long list of game wardens before him and realized what they had meant for the business and their family. Xrez didn’t often agree on the purpose of The Hunt, but he’d respected his father and had loved him for his perseverance and dedication he had for the family name.

  “My father was consumed with our family business an
d made it his life’s mission to ensure its vitality for not only his lifetime and mine, but for generations beyond,” Xrez growled. “The Hunt meant everything to him, and he wouldn’t have done anything to jeopardize his standing with this assembly. He was well aware that The Hunt couldn’t go on without your blessing and cooperation.”

  “How do you explain his actions? Humans are protected. There are laws against taking them from Earth. Surely you can understand our position,” Mirze said. “The punishment is more than any of us here are willing to pay.”

  “We’ve had humans in The Hunt before. Albeit, not that many and never more than one in any given game. But now we have one, a female, who in a few Turolois standard days will be granted her freedom.”

  “We’ve heard,” Trokkid huffed. He didn’t sound too impressed.

  “Then you may have also heard that we now have a wait list of hunters who want an opportunity to hunt.”

  Nuls shook his head. “I don’t care about your waitlist.” He pounded his scaly hand on the table. “There are certain chances that we cannot take. Our positions. Our livelihoods are at stake here.”

  “Were you also aware that we were able to increase the fee to hunt humans?”

  That seemed to grab their attention. “How so?” Thruzon asked.

  Xrez lifted a shoulder. “Well, as you say, humans are protected. It should cost more to hunt them. And, since they’re progressing to Level Two and Three, the fee doubles and triples to acquire them.”

  “And you say you have a waitlist?”

  Xrez nodded. “Our waitlist spans fourteen hunting rounds so far.”

  Sego intertwined his fingers. “What does this mean for us? You see an increase in profits, and we still have our positions at risk.”

  Xrez had them where he wanted them. He could see their eyes twinkling with greed.

  “When we see additional profits, we’ll be able to pass more credits on to you.”

  “And how do we know this round will be successful? What if the humans prove as weak as the Federation has deemed and you lose the entire lot?”

  “We have more humans in Level Two than we had in the previous rounds filled with Gognex and Baevus.”

  “Really? How can that be?”

  Xrez understood Sego’s surprise. Gognex and Baevus were known as fierce warriors in their own right. They were both primitive species—not as primitive as humans as they could control their weather and had mastered space travel. But no one willingly went up against one if they could help it.

  “Humans aren’t as fragile as they’re made out to be. They’re smart, cunning, resilient, intelligent beings who seem to thrive on motivation and comradery. I’m betting that we have at least five make it to the third round.”

  “Show us them,” Trokkid demanded.

  Mirze looked from Trokkid to Xrez and nodded. “If we are to continue putting ourselves at risk we must see how this lot of humans are faring.”

  Xrez tapped his comlink, opening a line. “Bradliix.”

  “Yes, Sir?”

  “Please patch my comlink into the live feed of the human arena. Level Two.”

  “Of course, Sir.”

  Xrez’s comlink beeped, and he accepted the incoming feed and selected to display as a hologram in front of him. There was a human female in winter gear on her knees. Her dog was beside her keeping vigil on the surrounding trees as she arranged broken sticks into a trap. It was a rudimentary design, but one that would work effectively to trap small game.

  “This is Level Two. As you see here, she is thriving.”

  “What is that next to her? Has she tamed one of the animals as a pet?”

  “That beast came with her from Earth. It is her companion and protector. It’s called a ‘dog’. We’ve cataloged it for future reference.”

  There were murmurings around the table.

  “Next, Bradliix.”

  The hologram flickered, and another image appeared. This one was of another female, darker than the first. She also was in winter gear and was skidding across an icy lake. Behind her was a hunter who wore a mask complete with a large imposing beak and black feathers adorning the head. He chased after her but wasn’t as fast as she was.

  “Again, Level Two prey. Who wants to bet that she outruns him and lasts another day?” Xrez looked at the bureaucrats hoping to put them at ease with his smile.

  There were a round of chuckles. Good. He was winning them over and alleviating some of their fears.

  “Next.”

  The image that came into view was Esme. Xrez’s heart soared at finally seeing her after spending so much time away. She wore his coat, the arms too long and falling well below her hands. The cuffs flopped with the extra space. The hem fell below her knees.

  She bent her knees slightly and held out her arms. There was a terror in her eyes and smeared across her face. His elation quickly turned to panic.

  Coming into the frame was an arrancar. It was almost twice her size. Its fur stood on end indicating its aggression and impending attack.

  Run!

  Another wave of panic swept over him when he saw what was at her back. Air. She stood on a cliff with the icy ocean below. Nothing stood between Esme and the arrancar.

  “This is one human we won’t gain any credits from.” Trokkid huffed. “What a waste.”

  Xrez couldn’t be bothered with Trokkid. His attention focused on Esme.

  Get out of there. Call for an emergency pod.

  The arrancar lunged, and Esme ducked under its body. She lifted and tried to toss it away, but the arrancar latched its jaws onto her shoulder. Esme cried out in pain, her face contorted as the arrancar dragged her off her feet. The arrancar pulled her, backing precariously close to the edge. Its claws were embedded in her shoulder. Crimson blood seeped through, creating a burst of stark color against the white of the coat.

  A flash of silver burst from one of the armholes. She buried a dagger in the animal’s gut. When it yelped, she was able to escape and scuttle backward. Her freedom was short lived. The arrancar lunged forward, and she fell back. Its teeth sunk into the front of the coat. If she’d been wearing her tighter fitting snowsuit, the animal would’ve had a mouth full of her gut instead of fabric.

  Esme stabbed it repeatedly in the face and neck. Blood splattered the snow.

  “Bradliix.” Xrez’s hands were clutched at his sides. She clearly needed help but with them watching there was no way to provide it without letting on that he interfered with the game. “Next.”

  “No, leave it here,” Sego said. “I want to see if she lives or not.”

  Xrez’s heart strained. His jaw tightened, and his stomach turned hard as stones.

  The arrancar, although visibly sluggish, shook its head bringing Esme to her knees.

  “Such a senseless death,” Mirze said.

  Xrez couldn’t talk. No words came from his throat.

  “It would’ve been better if this prey had been caught in Level One. At least then you would’ve seen a profit from her.”

  “I think we need to change the structure. Why should our credits be tied to how many of the prey are captured? It’s clear that if there weren’t dangerous beasts in the game, more prey would get captured and you wouldn’t lose any to death. We should get a flat rate per game. Not per captured prey.”

  “I second that motion.”

  A low growl bubbled in his chest. How could they talk about her so callously? She wasn’t prey. She was Esme. She was the human he loved.

  The arrancar staggered back, and Esme slammed her foot into its chest. She didn’t have enough strength to knock the dying beast away. The arrancar made another effort to bring Esme down. Esme kicked and fought it. The animal rolled, taking Esme with it as it fell off the cliff and out of view.

  The feed flickered and ended.

  Xrez stared at the empty space in muted shock. Esme was dead.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Everything was as it should be, Esme thought as she g
lanced around the kitchen, taking in every detail that was burned in her memory. Her parents hadn’t changed much of the décor since moving into the house when she was a toddler, and she had no complaints.

  Everything was perfect as it was.

  The kitchen was plastered in faded sun and moon wallpaper that was yellowed in some spots and peeled in others. Once a year her parents talked about stripping the walls and painting, but neither of them ever got around to removing the wallpaper or buying paint for that matter. One of the walls was decorated with four-inch square ceramic tiles with hand-painted barnyard animals.

  On another, oversized wooden utensils were arranged. The artwork had hung on the walls so long that if they were removed now, Esme was sure the wallpaper underneath would look new. The tiled floor was the only upgrade that her parents had gotten around to doing. It used to be a funky green design that her father had gotten on sale.

  It had taken her mother complaining for years before her dad had finally installed the upgrade. A pale yellow floor that somehow matched the faded wallpaper perfectly.

  The kitchen could use updates—a lot of them, but to Esme, it looked and felt well-lived in. The heart of the house. A place where someone was always in, either cooking, eating or doing what she currently did—enjoy good company.

  Perfect.

  She was home. The house she’d grown up in. It was where she was safe, comfortable and secure.

  She took a healthy sniff. Mm. Carnitas. Her favorite dish. It smelled of spicy meat and well-seasoned vegetables. Meat sizzled in the skillet. Her mom hummed along to a song that played on the radio. She preferred the old school Mariachi bands over anything recent.

  Esme picked up the coffee mug set on the round kitchen table in front of her. The steam rising from her favorite cup reached her nose. It was the blend her mother preferred to mix herself; dark roast with blonde.

  Home.

  Her parent’s house hadn’t been her home for years, but it was still home. The all-consuming anxiety spilling from her chest disappeared. Why was she so anxious anyway? Was there an upcoming test? A paper due? A presentation she should prepare for? A dissertation or thesis she should be defending?