Trapped by the Alien: A Scifi Alien Romance (Fated Mates of the Titan Empire Book 5)

by Tammy Walsh

  “That was to my brother, not to me,” I said, still searching for the girl.

  “To the House Taw,” Zes said, eyes drooping dangerously low. “And I’m not a Titan who forsakes his word.”

  I saw her. Barely a glimpse through a gap in the crowd.

  “All right,” I said, grabbing him by the arm. “This way!”

  We entered the ballroom and I cast around for her again. Still no sign.

  “Damn!” I said.

  Zes was stumbling side to side. He was going to collapse any second. I angled him toward a table, already occupied by a pair of lords I didn’t recognize. They glared at us as Zes collapsed on the chair, his head banging against the tabletop.

  “He suffers from narcolepsy,” I said. He didn’t really. He just had a habit of overeating and passing out. “I’ll let him rest for a bit and he’ll be back to normal in no time.”

  I left the table before they could offer a single word of complaint—which they would. The wealthy were always the first to complain.

  I headed in the direction I’d last seen the girl and peered around at the empty space. Most of the tables were empty. Most of the guests headed upstairs to their rooms. Some had come from distant moons and far-flung planets. The tables that were occupied only had a single couple. They sat facing the stage at the front.

  I scratched my head. I’d lost her.

  Again.

  A band set up their instruments and began to play classical music. If the other guests weren’t already tired, they soon would be.

  Feeling despondent, I approached the bar and ordered a Titan ale.

  After all that excitement, I’d lost her. In a palace of this size, she could have gone anywhere. I would never find her again. She might as well be on another planet.

  It wasn’t like anything was going to happen. I didn’t even expect anything to happen. I just—

  What? What did I expect?

  I sighed deeply. I just wanted to look at her. I looked at the portrait of my wife all the time but that was two-dimensional and incapable of conversation—no matter how often I spoke to her.

  It was probably a good thing. Nobody liked to be ogled and stared at. Especially by someone they didn’t even know.

  “One ale,” the bartender said, sliding it over to me.

  I cupped it between my hands and watched as the tiny bubbles popped, making a squeaking noise that only ever seemed to get louder the drunker you got.

  Get drunk. Now that sounded like a good idea. Then I could forget this whole thing had ever happened and maybe, if I was lucky, I might mistake this whole thing as yet another dream I had about her.

  I took a healthy drag on the ale and turned.

  I almost spat it out. Some of it did spill down my costume.

  There she sat, on a barstool at the other end of the bar.

  She idly stirred her brightly-colored drink with a tiny umbrella. I’d never seen a drink with an umbrella before. It looked… exotic.

  I sized her up from this angle, and as she turned to peer at the stage, I got a good look at her ass.

  Wow.

  She was in excellent shape. A little taller than I thought and with bigger curves. Her dress clung to her figure, dark against her pale skin. Her black hair spilled down to her shoulder blades.

  She was stunning.

  I should go over and speak with her, I thought. Before someone else does.

  But I didn’t make a move. I huddled back over my drink and drank another mouthful. Maybe if I drank enough, I could work up the confidence I needed… and then fail spectacularly when she couldn’t understand a single word I said.

  I turned to her and opened my mouth…

  But no words came out. I focused on my beer again.

  Next time, have something to say to her, asshole!

  “Don’t you just hate these things?” she said.

  I looked her over. Who was she talking to?

  The bartender had disappeared into the cellar and no one else was within earshot. She must be speaking to me.

  “Uh, yeah,” I said. “They’re never much fun.”

  She turned to face me and leaned her elbow on the bar.

  “A bit of a stuffy party if you ask me,” she said. “But all these lord and lady types seem to enjoy them. I guess they must be stuffy too.”

  I’m a lord and lady type…

  “Yeah,” I said. “Right.”

  She looked me over.

  “I always manage to stick my foot in it,” she said. “You’re one of the guests here?”

  “One of the stuffy lords,” I said, raising my hands in surrender.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean you. I just meant… Forget I said anything.”

  “To be honest with you,” I said, checking over my shoulders. “I’m not sure how many people would be here if they didn’t have to be.”

  The girl slid along the bar a little closer.

  “Didn’t have to be?” she said. “What do you mean?”

  I’d better watch my tongue. The ale was beginning to loosen the knots.

  “I mean, it’s a forced social gathering,” I said. “We were invited here but we’d prefer not to have to travel all this way.”

  “Right,” the girl said, and now she checked over her shoulders. “I thought some sort of political thing was happening, like those insect things were taking over or something.”

  I was surprised by her level of insight. I didn’t want to get her in trouble so I changed the subject.

  “So, what brings you here?” I said.

  “I’m here to entertain all you rich and powerful people,” she said.

  I looked her over. At least this time she gave me an opening to do so. “Are you a dancer?”

  She laughed. It rang like a bell.

  Just like my wife’s.

  “I’m the worst dancer you’ve ever seen,” she said.

  “I’m not sure about that,” I said.

  “Oh, I am.”

  “You haven’t seen me dance.”

  She grinned at me.

  “Then you must be a singer,” I said.

  She almost choked on her drink.

  “Correct,” she said. “Boy, you’re good. Remind me never to play twenty questions with you.”

  I slid my drink along the bar toward her, so close I could smell her perfume. It filled my senses and made me feel like I was flying.

  “Where are you from?” I said.

  “A little out-of-the-way place called Earth,” she said, looking up at me through her eyelashes.

  “Earth?”

  I’d studied many star maps over the years but I couldn’t remember ever hearing of a planet or moon with that name. I would the moment I got a chance.

  “It’s not well developed yet,” she said. “It’s still going through its first real technology phase.”

  “What’s that you’re drinking?” I said, motioning to the funny little colorful drink on the bar.

  “Translator,” she said, addressing the translator strip on her neck, “allow original pronunciation. It’s called a mojito.”

  “A mojito,” I said, practicing the sound on my lips. “Translator strip, save pronunciation under ‘delicious Earth drink.’”

  “Woah. You don’t want to do that.”

  I frowned.

  “Why not?” I said. “It’s not delicious?”

  “It is to me. But maybe it doesn’t suit your taste buds.”

  I looked the drink over. It was brightly colored and I could smell the alcohol from over here.

  “It looks plenty delicious to me,” I said.

  A smile spread across her gorgeous wide mouth. I was so embarrassed. I’d actually looked her in the eye when I said it. I must have come across as a seedy pervert.

  “Here,” the girl said, sliding the glass over to me. “Try it.”

  “I can’t,” I said. “It’s yours.”

  She pushed it further toward me.

  “I insist,” she said.<
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  “Do you want me to use a different glass?” I said.

  “Do you have any diseases I should know about?”

  “No.”

  “Then drink.”

  The glass was thin and dainty in my hands. I raised it to my lips, careful not to spill a drop or break the glass when I put it back down.

  “Well?” she said. “How is it?”

  “Delicious!”

  “Bartender,” the girl said. “Another mojito, please.”

  The bartender grinned as he set to making another cocktail. He hesitated, inexperienced with shaking the container and spinning the bottle around, but finally, with his tongue poking out and focusing every fiber of his being on pouring the drink into the glass, he was done.

  I lifted it, about to drink when the girl raised a hand.

  “Wait,” she said. “You need this.”

  She drew a tiny umbrella from her bag and placed it in the glass.

  I sipped it and smiled.

  “Incredible,” I said. “Where did you get those funky-looking little umbrellas?”

  “I made them,” she said.

  “They’re very cool,” I said. I meant it. Titan food was delicious and very nutritious but when it came to appearance… well, sometimes it was easy to mistake a schlezmong’s droppings for our meals.

  Zes had done it many times over the years.

  “I order the same drink every time I go to a bar,” the girl said. “They don’t have the same alcohol here as back home but they have similar stuff. I tell the bartender the recipe and they knock it up pretty quick.” She told me the recipe with Titan ingredients. “They never have the little umbrellas though, so I had to make my own. It’s a little taste of home, even if it is a little different from what I remember.”

  “I’d like to taste a real mojito sometime,” I said.

  “It’s a long way just for a drink. But you know what?” She reached for her bag and came out with half a dozen tiny umbrellas. “Here, take some. For when you make your mojito.”

  I waved her away.

  “No. Please,” I said. “I don’t want to take your pleasure from you.”

  “Believe me, you won’t. I reuse them anyway. I don’t think I’ve used more than two since I’ve been here.”

  I took them from her.

  “Thanks,” I said. “I’ll… think of you while I’m drinking it.”

  Why did everything I say sound so seedy? Had I always been so nervous around women?

  “How did you end up here?” I said.

  “The same way any human ends up in outer space. I was abducted.”

  Hot anger rose like heat in my chest.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “It happens everywhere these days. To my species too.”

  “It sucks.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “But you get used to it. And you get to meet some pretty interesting people.”

  A Titan stagehand came running over to the girl.

  “You’re due on stage in five minutes,” she said.

  “I’ll be right there,” the girl said, in no particular hurry. “It’s been nice talking with you…?”

  “Kal,” I said.

  “Lord Kal, I take it?” she said.

  “You take it right.”

  “I’m glad it’s not a mouthful.”

  And did her eyes track down for a fraction of a second when she said that? No. Probably just my imagination.

  “Friends call me Kal-i,” I said.

  “Kal-i,” the girl said. “Sounds cute.”

  The Titan stagehand came jogging over again.

  “Two minutes!” she said.

  “Okay! Okay!” the girl said.

  She downed a mouthful of her mojito and pressed a hand to her mouth to keep it from spilling down her chin.

  “Wait,” I said. “What’s your name?”

  She extended her hand to reach for mine. I wasn’t quite sure what I was supposed to do with it. She stretched a little further and shook my hand up and down. It seemed a very bizarre thing to do.

  “This is how we greet each other on Earth,” she said. “A sign of trust. My name’s Sirena. Pleased to meet you.”

  I shook her hand.

  “Pleased to meet you, Sirena,” I said.

  She turned and hustled toward the stage. Her drink was mostly unfinished. I gazed at the lipstick mark around the edge and ran the fleshy part of my thumb over it. I wondered what it would feel like to kiss her.

  I shook myself out of it and focused on my ale.

  I needed to get a grip. Nothing could happen between us. Not while I thought of my wife all the time we were together.

  Sirena climbed the steps to the stage.

  Boy, I could ride that ass all day and night…

  Ignoring my instincts was going to be a tough gig.

  It was about to get a whole lot tougher.

  The tables were largely empty. Those in attendance busied themselves with quiet discussions, and when Zes’s snores became too much for those that shared his table, they haughtily removed themselves and proceeded upstairs.

  I remained at the bar and ordered another mojito. For the first time since arriving at the palace, I was beginning to enjoy myself.

  Sirena moved to the microphone. It was attached to a long pole. I hadn’t seen one like it before. Performers usually attached a special strip to their throats that amplified their voices. Sirena was going old school. She appeared to like having something to hold with her hands.

  She was alone on the stage beside a Titan sat at a set of drums and another on a bass guitar. The bassist picked a slow rhythm and the drummer thumped the canvas only at key moments. The lights faded and a single spotlight focused on her.

  I didn’t need it. My attention was already entirely on her.

  The conversations turned silent as the other patrons watched the stage for the first time the entire evening.

  It was not traditional Titan music, which tended to be loud and boisterous and full of energy. This was different. It was sultry and deep. Her voice was gorgeous and thick like velvet.

  Her eyes were closed during most of the performance and her body gently swayed side to side. She ran her hands over her body and more than one mouth fell open. Even the bartender, who must have been used to all kinds of performances, stopped wiping his glass and watched.

  Mesmerized.

  All eyes were on her.

  My eyes were on her.

  I couldn’t stop staring. She sang about fire, fever, and passion. She could have sung about shuttlecraft replacements parts and it would have had the same effect on me.

  I glanced out the corner of my eyes and quickly readjusted myself. I was thankful I was wearing my loose-fitting costume.

  She hit the final note and opened her eyes. She looked at me and smiled that gorgeous wide grin of hers.

  I was hooked.

  When the lights came up and the darkness was removed, the other lords and ladies rose to their feet and clapped, cheering the performance. I did the same. It was nothing like anything I’d ever seen on Titan before.

  Sirena took a deep bow. She clapped the musicians behind her, who nodded their thanks.

  I didn’t know who she was or the location of this planet she came from, but I was definitely going to find out.

  I waited for the other shows to finish, hoping Sirena might perform an encore, but my hopes were dashed.

  “Thanks for listening to our performances tonight,” a skinny Titan musician said after the final act. “If you’d like to book us for future performances please contact…”

  I phased out the rest of what he said and downed the last of my fifth mojito. Oh well. At least I got to enjoy her company for a little while. And her singing. Wow. I’d be dreaming about that act for months to come.

  The entire evening felt like something written in the stars, as if it were meant to be. She looked so much like my wife, sounded like her, acted like her, smelled like her…


  Tasted like her?

  I growled at myself and stumbled in the direction of Zes’s table. He sat upright with his head thrown back, snoring even louder than usual. I’d wake him up and help him to his room.

  Each time I blinked, I saw her. The way her dress plunged down the front, revealing her sexy voluptuous figure, and the split up one side, revealing a toned leg.

  Maybe I should call on her. Maybe I should let her know I was interested…

  Who was I kidding? She probably had a guy. Maybe even a few guys, stringing them along with empty promises. A woman like that could have any guy she wanted.

  “Still here, Kal-i?”

  Her deep voice sent a shiver up my spine.

  I glanced over at her in an attempt at playing it cool.

  “Yes,” I said.

  My voice squeaked. So much for playing it cool.

  “I thought I might as well catch a few more performances while I’m here,” I said.

  “See anything you like?” she said, her hands on her hips and staring me in the eye.

  I gulped. Plenty.

  “I thought… I thought they were all good,” I said. “Would you like a drink?”

  “If I have one, I’ll have ten,” she said.

  Damn. I hope my disappointment wasn’t too obvious.

  “But you can walk me to my room if you’d like?” she said.

  “Sure!” The word was out before I summoned it.

  I took a step forward and almost lost my feet. I braced myself on the bar.

  Sirena chuckled.

  “That is, if you can manage to get that far,” she said.

  “I’m fine!” I said. “I just… need to get my sea legs under me, that’s all.”

  I glanced at Zes as we sailed past him. I really should wake him up…

  And have him ruin these few private minutes I would share with her? Dream on. I’d come back for him later.

  I extended my elbow to her. She smiled and took it. Her arm tucked in nicely around my bulging muscles. I held her gently, like a paper flower. I walked with my head held high, the way I used to with my wife. She’d been the most beautiful woman in any room we visited too.

  I took her toward the elevators but she resisted.

  “No,” she said. “Let’s take the stairs. I doubt I’ll ever get to see this palace again.”

  We ascended the wide set of red-carpeted stairs. I loved how Sirena walked slowly, peering at the items lined along the walls as if it were a museum. I wished I was more knowledgeable about our culture so I could explain it to her. The plaques gave much better information than I ever could. But there was one thing the plaques could never divulge…