Even if Lola didn’t choose the purple warrior, he could court her under the rules of this particular game. I simply had to push her toward him.
When he returned moments later, Vos announced the matches.
I watched the purple warrior carefully.
“Valtin Valenox and Lola Richards have chosen each other,” Vos announced.
The purple warrior—Valtin, apparently—closed his eyes in relief, joy flashing across his face. I was certain I saw him mouth the word “mine.”
Excellent.
I could make this work.
“And finally,” Vos said, “Wex Banstinad has chosen Lola Richards.”
Valtin shot a glare in my direction and I smirked at him in return. The more I could provoke him, the harder he would fight to gain Lola Richards’ affection.
He jerked in his seat, clearly fighting himself to remain sitting, not to jump up and attack me right here and now. But he managed to keep his reaction to a low growl.
I bit back a grin.
This is going to be fun.
As long as everything turned out the way I wanted it to.
Vos’s new obsession with all things Christmas meant that our first task was to find a Christmas tree and decorate the room we would be having our gift exchange in.
He had arranged for what he called a Holiday Market to be set up in the center of Station 21, between the garden and the food court, and our task was to choose a tree and go “shopping” together—apparently a key component of an Earther’s holiday experience.
Valtin and I met with Lola at the edge of the market. She was undeniably attractive—and, oddly enough, wearing clothing that suited the Earther season.
She saw me eyeing it and said, inscrutably, “I know. It’s an elf costume. I was pulled up from my job in the mall.”
I had no idea what an “elf” was, but Valtin’s smile widened at her explanation. “I like it,” he said.
Lola’s mouth twisted and she gave a shrug.
That’s not good—she needs to appreciate him.
I, on the other hand, needed to convince Lola that I was the furthest thing from a suitable mate possible, so I settled my face into a scowl, allowing Valtin to appear all the more appealing by contrast.
We hit the trees first. Tiny aerial video globes darted around the trees and markets, following us to catch all the vid footage possible.
Valtin dashed to the biggest tree in the impromptu tree lot. “What about this one?” he asked, staring up at the tree that towered over him.
I need to counter everything he says, I decided. “It’s too big for the room.”
Valtin shot a glare in my direction. But I wasn’t wrong. The tree was enormous, and the space we had been allocated for our gift exchange was small. And decorating that monstrosity would take far more time than I wanted to spend with these two.
Lola’s gaze flickered between the two of us, and I saw the moment she decided she preferred Valtin’s attitude to mine. “No,” she said. “I think I like that one.”
That’s better. I rolled my eyes in feigned irritation, but Valtin laughed aloud and clapped his hands together.
“Perfect,” the purple alien announced. “We’ll have it delivered.”
“You two belong together,” I snarled under my breath, too quietly for them to actually hear, but hoping they would assume I was angry with Lola’s response. I whipped around to walk away from them. As I did, my shoulder caught the edge of the tree. It began to topple over, and I jumped out of the way—leaving it headed directly toward Lola.
I had less than a micro-second to decide what to do about it—jump in and keep it from hitting Lola or allow Valtin to save her.
Luckily, Valtin was a quick thinker. He rushed in, catching the tree and holding it away from Lola.
“Are you all right?” he asked Lola.
She swallowed and nodded. “I am. Thank you.”
Several other Khanavai males rushed over to help them set the tree back upright. Valtin gave them a few directions about delivering it to the room we would be using that night.
Then he turned to take Lola’s arm. “Are you sure you’re well?” he asked. “Not too frightened?”
Quietly, I moved away from them.
I couldn’t have planned that any better.
Maybe I can arrange for a few more serendipitous accidents to push them together.
A few moments later, Lola and Valtin caught up with me as I sorted through decorations in the stalls, adding several to the bag I carried over my shoulder.
This should be entertaining.
“I’ve chosen our decorations,” I announced when they joined me.
“Let me see?” Lola asked.
I opened the bag to show a jumble of mismatched ornaments. Any tree decorated with these would look positively hideous. I grimace of horror flashed across Lola’s face, but she quickly suppressed it. It was all I could do to keep from laughing aloud.
“I simply grabbed some things,” I said, working hard to emulate my first commander’s most imperious tones. “We should go decorate our tree now.”
Lola frowned, obviously taking exception to my tone, but not willing to say so aloud.
Guess I will have to push her more.
“I think Lola should choose the decorations,” Valtin said. “After all, I chose the tree.”
Without another word, Lola turned and began perusing the decorations. “I think we should have a theme,” she said, flicking an irritated glance in my direction.
“Perfect,” Valtin said. “What kind of theme?”
Lola grinned. “I think silver and purple would be a lovely color theme for this Christmas.”
There’s my opening.
With a muttered curse, I dropped the bag I was holding. “I see how it is,” I snarled. “You prefer purple.”
She gave me a hard stare. “Right now, I certainly do.”
With a snort of irritation, I took a step back. “Fine. I’m out.”
I strode away from the two of them, pleased with my performance so far.
Still, it wasn’t enough to irritate Lola and Valtin. I needed to make sure there was no way Vos could manipulate the situation and push Lola into accepting me as a mate.
I stopped at the nearest information kiosk to get details on Lola’s Bride Game handlers, the people who prepared her for each of the activities.
Plofnid and Drindl.
I had seen Drindl around—she was one of the few members of the Blordl race aboard the station, and she was hard to miss with her three breasts and silvery skin. I was guessing Plofnid was the Poltien who was often with her. The Poltiens were small, non-gendered reptilian creatures with fan-like rills along their backs and a preference for growing exceptionally long nose-hairs from one nostril and braiding them, apparently as some kind of status symbol.
Rumor had it that Drindl and Plofnid were lovers—but if nothing else, they were true believers in the Bride Lottery.
I hope they believe in the Games enough to help me.
When I found the two handlers, they were in the Green Room, taking a break before heading to Lola’s room to prepare her for the evening’s games. Lucky for me, there were no vidglobes in the room at the moment.
“I have a favor to ask you.” I took a seat next to Drindl, and the two of them gazed at me with matching expressions of polite interest.
“Yes?” Drindl said, her bell-like voice trilling the word.
“I need you to make sure Lola Richards understands exactly how a mating cock works.”
Plofnid blinked. “You want us to explain the mechanics of a mating cock to one of the brides?”
“No, no. Not the mechanics. But the … I guess the social conventions?”
They stared at me blankly, so I decided to go all-in on my explanation. “Vos Klavoii wants me to mate with Lola. But I believe she prefers Valtin. I will not stand in the way of their happiness—”
“But Vos would,” Plofnid interrupted darkly.
>
“Exactly.” I nodded. “He’s determined to have Lola mated by the end of this Holiday Special. So we need to make sure Lola knows precisely what it will take to ensure Valtin is the one she leaves with.”
“You would give up your chance at mating to make certain Lola ends up with the right mate? Oh, you dear male!” Drindl clapped her hands together, then threw her arms around me.
I wanted to tell her I wasn’t as altruistic as she made me out to be, but I wasn’t willing to say anything that might change her mind.
“We will take care of it,” Plofnid assured me.
And they did. I watched the vid from my quarters, cheering under my breath as Lola arrived in the decorated gift exchange room dressed in nothing but a bow, and led Valtin away from all the prying eyes and vidglobes.
“What in all the Zagrodnian hells have the two of you done?” Vos ranted as he marched up and down behind his desk.
Valtin shrugged. “We mated. That’s the whole reason for the Bride Lottery and Games, right?”
Vos seethed. “You were not supposed to join with her. Wex was the one we had chosen for her.”
Valtin’s new mate raised one eyebrow. “But he’s not the one I chose for myself. And as I understand it, this is something you cannot take back, right? This whole mating thing?”
Vos spun to glare at her.
“It’s fine,” I said. “These two belong together, Vos. And I know you had plans for me. But…” I glanced at Valtin and Lola. “You two are right. Lola wasn’t the one for me.”
Vos turned his glare on me. “So I guess you think you have a better idea?”
I nodded. “Yes, but you’re not going to like it.”
He threw his hands up in the air and turned his glare back to Valtin and Lola. “Well, it certainly won’t be the first thing I haven’t liked today.”
I had to fight to suppress a snicker at that. I had known from the moment I saw Lola that, despite what Vos had told me, I wasn’t going to end up mated to her.
No. I had already met my mate.
And if Vos thought he didn’t like Lola and Valtin together, he was going to like this even less. I inhaled, then spit it out. “She’s a woman I met on Earth when I was on the search team for Zont’s mate.”
Vos spun around from glaring at Valtin and Lola to stare at me again. “Why didn’t you mention that sooner?”
“Because I didn’t think it was possible for her to be a bride.”
“Why not?”
“She is currently in an Earth prison for having attempted to violate the Bride Alliance Treaty.”
For a moment, I thought Vos was going to explode. But then he took a deep breath, visibly calming himself down, and leaned forward to rest his hands on the desk.
“You two,” he said, jerking his chin toward Lola and Valtin. “Get out of here. Go enjoy the end of the festivities.”
“So you will register our mating?” Valtin asked.
Vos heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Yes. Just go.”
Neither of us said anything until the couple had left the room.
Vos turned to me. “You seriously want a chance to mate with an Earth woman who violated the Bride Alliance Treaty?”
I felt a smile growing across my face. “I do. And I believe it will make for some great programming.”
Vos narrowed his eyes at me, bit his lip, then picked up an epen and held it poised over the epaper in front of him, ready to take notes. “Tell me more.”
This is going to be amazing.
Chapter Nine
Dee
It was almost a week before I found out that Wex had not actually ended up choosing a bride on the Holiday Special. In fact, I don’t know that I would have ever realized it had I not seen a vid-news headline when I was flipping through channels on my new wristcom.
It didn’t mention Wex by name, of course, but there were pictures of the three new supposedly “happy couples,” and Wex wasn’t in any of them.
That’s when I went back and watched the Holiday Special rerun segments that included Wex. I frowned as I watched him turn into a petulant brat onscreen.
That was nothing like the commanding figure I had encountered in the parking lot of the hotel. The man I had met—alien male, I corrected myself—had been strong, powerful, in charge of the situation. He had turned my knees to jelly with a look and caused me to spill all my information with nothing more than the deep bass sound of his voice.
Lucky thing I didn’t followed my instinct to throw myself at him, if that’s how he acts when he doesn’t get his way.
I gave a mental head-shake.
Men. They were always such disappointments.
The next six weeks were relatively uneventful, rolling along much as I had expected them to—I did my work in the house, kept my head down, and soon enough, some new scandal grabbed the headlines, and my name was mentioned less and less.
I might have been able to go on indefinitely like that and remained perfectly content. Of course, it couldn’t last.
I had begun having dinner with everyone else. The other women in the halfway house were entertaining, if a little single-minded in their desire to take down the Bride Lottery.
But once I figured out they were all talk, I relaxed, even joining in sometimes when they were working on one of their ridiculous plans.
I even started taking Sundays off from work, spending the time reading, watching vids, or taking walks around the neighborhood when the weather was nice.
That night, I had come in from an afternoon walk to find Frannie cooking in the communal kitchen. She was the best cook among us—so good that several of us offered to trade doing less pleasant jobs just to convince her to cook for us all.
The gleaming, modern kitchen, such a far cry from the halfway houses I’d seen on vid-dramas, was filled with delicious scents. I leaned over the pot of stew bubbling on the stove to inhale. “Smells amazing.”
“I’m making cornbread to go with it,” Frannie said. “The real Southern kind, not that sweet stuff y’all have up here. That stuff tastes like cake, not cornbread.”
I grinned at the familiar mini-rant. “Better for us, too, I’m sure.”
“Definitely.” Frannie gave a firm nod and then winked at me as she pulled the cornbread out of the oven.
I had made it back from my walk just in time for dinner. The rest of the women made their way into the kitchen within moments and began loading their bowls and plates. As I sat down in my chair at the old farmhouse-style table, I realized that although I hadn’t anticipated it, these women were becoming my friends.
Funny that I had to go to prison to finally begin to make real friends on the outside.
I had just bitten into my second piece of cornbread when all the screens in the house clicked on, including the one on the refrigerator door.
Vos Klavoii’s too-bright smile flashed at us. “Welcome to the latest edition of the Bride Lottery.”
“What the fuck?” Mandy exclaimed. “I can’t believe they’re doing this again already.”
Frannie let out a string of curses under her breath, the most I’d ever heard from the small, round, blonde Southerner.
Jacinda stared at the screen with her dark eyes wide, her spoon halfway to her lips, forgotten for the moment.
Roya simply narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back in her chair and watching with her jaw clenched tightly shut.
My stomach lurched, even as I reminded myself that it was unlikely I would ever be chosen to participate in the Bride Games. I was only three years away from aging out of the program altogether, and they certainly wouldn’t want someone with my record on Station 21.
I kept telling myself that as Vos went through his usual schtick about Khanavai males and human females finding “true love.”
True love. As if that were possible to find on a game show.
No. Roya was right—these women were hostages, forced to pay for all humankind’s safety with their bodies
and the rest of their lives. Just because some of them had Stockholm Syndrome didn’t mean the rest of us had to play along and pretend it was all right.
And so what if some of the hostage-takers are tall, beautiful, green aliens with bass voices and eyes that made my knees go weak?
I shoved the thought as deep down as it would go, working hard to pretend it didn’t exist.
Vos’s next announcement, however, jerked me out of my thoughts entirely. “I’m delighted to inform you all that this year’s first episode of the Bride Games will feature brand-new brides drawn from tonight’s lottery, as usual—but for our grooms, we are going to do something new.”
He’s really gotten the game-show host patter down. He actually sounds excited about this.
“This season,” he continued as the camera panned out to show several Khanavai warriors gathered in the familiar Bride Games auditorium, “we are bringing you a new theme: Second Chances. For the first time ever, grooms who participated in earlier games without finding a mate will get another chance at love. Let me introduce you to several of our bachelors.” He paused, allowing the vid to swing back around to his plastic smile. “Or reintroduce you, as the case may be.”
“So these poor women are going to get the rejects?” I had thought Frannie couldn’t look any more horrified than she did over cornbread with sugar in it, but she did. Trust Vos Klavoii to really upset her.
“And what does he mean by ‘episode one’ and ‘this season’?” Roya asked, her brow furrowing. “Are they increasing the number of Bride Games?”
“That ‘Holiday Special’ business sure suggested it,” Jacinda said, finally dropping her spoon back down into her bowl of stew, leaving the bite untasted.
“So it’s not enough for them to auction us off like…like farm animals, but now they’re selling us to the men who couldn’t convince any other women to marry them? That’s seriously fucked up,” Mandy said, throwing her napkin down onto her plate. “God, I wish there was some way we could find to stop this travesty.”
Roya tapped her lips with one forefinger. “It makes you wonder if all their really good groom options are off fighting the Alveron Horde. They don’t like to tell us much about our supposed enemies, do they?”
Enemy of the Alien Bride Lottery Page 5