Mate Abduction (Alien Abduction Book 9)

by Eve Langlais

  “What kind of task?” she asked before she could stop herself.

  “I was sent to find my mate.”

  The answer startled enough that she stumbled. “You went hunting for a wife? How’d it go?”

  “Different than expected,” he replied.

  “Congratulations?” she ventured. She cast a glance at the large figure, curious now as to what hid under the fabric.

  “Are you mated?” he asked.

  “Nope.”

  “Pity,” he muttered. “That might have offered reprieve.”

  “Meaning what?” She whirled and glared at him. “Are you implying I shouldn’t have a husband? That I’m not good enough?”

  He eyed her up and down. “I’m sure you are more than fine, for some people.”

  The insult made her cheeks burn. “I pity the woman who is getting stuck with you.”

  “You should pity me. She’s not what I wanted at all,” he grumbled.

  “Then why marry her?”

  “Because if I don’t, bad things will happen.”

  How ominous, and not her problem. “Well, good luck with whatever you have going on.” She waved a hand in farewell and turned into a side corridor.

  The big dude remained by her side.

  “Those brigands that you dispatched, why were they after you?” he asked.

  “Because I’m human. Duh. They wanted to rape me and then sell me.”

  “You conversed with them, though, before killing them.”

  “I did,” she admitted, realizing only now just how long he’d been watching. And yet he’d never come to her aid…

  “What did you ask them?”

  Since he seemed intent, she quickly explained. “They were replying to some inquiries I’d made.”

  “Inquiries about what?”

  She heaved a long sigh. “What is it with you and the questions?”

  “I am a curious male.”

  She eyed him. Given his size, he was obviously of a large race, appearing two legged and armed, but that voluminous cloak could hide anything. She’d learned that lesson with Mr. Handsy-tail. If he didn’t want to lose the tip, he should have kept its nosy probing to itself.

  “Since you absolutely must know, I’m looking for humans. Others like me,” she finally replied.

  “Have you found many?”

  “No. Or have you already forgotten that Earth is on a no-invasion list?”

  “Meaning your species are not allowed out of their solar system,” he muttered aloud. “Why not just return to your world?”

  “Because, apparently, I know too much.”

  “Do you know where to find more of your kind?”

  “Would I be meeting sketchy aliens in alleys if I did?”

  He wasn’t done with his interrogation. “What do you hope to find in a settlement of humans?”

  Saying “a boyfriend” made her sound pathetic. “I don’t see as that’s any of your business.”

  “What if I have the information you seek?”

  She snorted. “As of five minutes ago, you didn’t even know humans existed.”

  “But I am knowledgeable. Perhaps I could help you.”

  “For what price?” She planted her hands on her hips. “Because we both know nothing comes for free.”

  “Kindness needs no payment.”

  “Kindness? Ha!” she couldn’t help but exclaim. “I am not stupid, dude. You want something.”

  “You are correct. I require your help.”

  Given what she knew so far, it wasn’t hard to surmise his need. “You want me to help you break your engagement, don’t you? Because you don’t like your fiancée.”

  “Not exactly. More like convince the female in question that the union is necessary.”

  She burst into laughter. “Dude, I am not going to con some lady into marrying you.”

  “But you’d be willing to help prevent the union?” he questioned as if to clarify.

  “Damned straight, I would. I don’t believe in forced or arranged marriage.” She was an Earth girl, through and through, who wanted a relationship that would also be a partnership, equals, unless there was a spider to kill.

  She used to think eight legs back home was bad. Add paralytic alien hair, a mouth big enough to take a fleshy bite, and a voice that could chirp like a chipmunk, “Don’t move, I’m trying to eat.” It was enough to send anyone into hiding.

  “Help me with my bride situation and I’ll help you.”

  “How?”

  “I have connections. If a human colony exists, I will find it.”

  He sounded certain, but that didn’t mean shit. “Give me verifiable info and I’ll get your girlfriend to dump you.”

  “She is not my friend. And I wish to remain alive and not have my corpse dumped anywhere.”

  “Dude, it’s slang. Don’t take it so literally.”

  “Is ‘dude’ a term of affection?”

  She beamed as she said, quite sincerely, “Why yes, yes, it is. And this…” She held up a middle finger. “And this means nice to make your acquaintance.”

  His reply? He held up his own finger and said, quite seriously, “Nice to meet you, too, dood.”

  She almost hit the floor laughing.

  Four

  Her lips quirked as if amused, making it obvious she lied about the word and gesture. Lied prettily, but then again, so had he.

  He didn’t need her to come between him and his mate because, against all odds, he’d found her. Looked right at her, a human with spotted skin and strange-colored hair, lacking any extra limbs or body parts. A warrior female who would probably spill his innards if he told her she was to be his bride.

  Karma surely played a jest. This female couldn’t be the one. Sure, she had a valiant heart and spirit, yet by her very words, she named herself barbarian. From a prohibited planet. Would she even be compatible with him?

  He eyed her up and down. On that respect, he had no doubts they’d be well suited. The question being, would he survive the coitus? Knowing how well she wielded a knife, he could only wonder if she believed in the castration of males after she’d used them. More than a few races had such painful rituals, and it behooved a male fond of his genitalia to avoid them.

  “Why are you staring at me like I’m going to turn into a monster?” she asked.

  “What are your thoughts on castration?”

  “Females, never. Males…” She eyed his groin area. “Depends on what they try to do with it.” Her gaze slewed back to his face. “Why do you ask?”

  He wasn’t about to explain. “Are males of your kind rare?” He knew of a few species where the feminine genes outnumbered the masculine. The Lunurfs, for example— blue-skinned scientists with a strange honor code—had a shortage of males and were said to be resorting to the slave markets to find suitable seed.

  On his own world, they also had issues which had been somewhat resolved with some females bonding with more than a few males at once. He’d wondered as he traveled to the different tribes in search of his mate if he’d end up part of a harem. However rather than share, according to Karma, he was expected to mate outside his kind with a female who showed no fear or common sense as she strutted into the busy docking area. He couldn’t help but scan the environs and note the blatant interest in the human.

  She drew all eyes, noses, and more than a few tentacles began slinking in her direction. Perhaps she exuded a pheromone that drew attention? Decontamination might eliminate the madness that consumed him. The jealousy that struck when they passed a group of mechanics and one of them dared to lift its tail, its eyeball staring in a way he didn’t like.

  Lightning quick, Thyos grabbed the appendage. “Disrespectful,” he grumbled as he knotted the alien’s offending arm tight. When done, he glared at the others who stared in open-jawed astonishment. “Anyone else care to stare?”

  The rapid whirling of bodies led to her laughter. A husky sound that vibrated through him.

  “Touch
y, aren’t you?”

  “If you let them think you weak, they will strike. It’s best to make a point early. It saves the bother of a full-scale vendetta later on.”

  She blinked at him. “A vendetta for staring?”

  “Staring might lead to overtures and, when rebuffed, perhaps even an unfortunate attempt at abduction or assault.”

  “Why is that unfortunate?”

  “Because minor infractions we can punish lightly.” He gestured behind them to the alien screeching as his friends brought out a light saw. The limb he’d tied wouldn’t be salvageable. “While the more severe are annihilated to provide a stern example.”

  “You don’t come from a dense population, do you?”

  “Our world is not overcrowded, if that is your query. Planetary sustainability requires us keeping the number of inhabitants at a certain level.”

  “Which I’m guessing in plain English means you have lots of wars so you don’t multiply like rabbits and overrun the world.”

  “Not just wars. Vendettas, skirmishes, and if that isn’t enough, we also have the games.”

  “The games being?”

  “A sporting event, usually to the death, to prove valiance.”

  “Have you ever played?”

  He grinned. “Yes.” He’d won four of the tournaments, which was a matter of pride with his mother. It still didn’t net him a bride.

  Until now.

  Did this human feel the connection? She gave no indication she did as she stomped for an open section in the bay where a ship sat docked, the gangway open.

  “Yo, bitch tit, I’m back! And I have company,” the orange-haired female yodeled.

  He could only assume she spoke some odd dialect, as his translator had no comparison.

  As if her words were a signal, the so-called bitch tit came thumping into view. Upon seeing the Zonian—distinctive with her avian legs ending in claws, the rapier features and beak, and of course, the single breast—he began to understand how a protected barbarian had survived and wandered freely on this space station rather than end up chained on the slave block.

  The warrior cawed, “Did you find yourself a man finally?”

  He didn’t miss the sudden color in the barbarian’s cheeks.

  “I don’t need a man!” she hotly declared.

  “Then I guess it’s a good thing you’re adept at masturbation.”

  Thyos almost laughed at the Zonian’s blunt words.

  The Earth female turned so mottled he feared she might explode. “Shut your beak, Ishtara.”

  “Or what?” The Zonian warrior, with her vivid yellow gaze, leaned forward rapaciously as if daring the female to attack.

  The human didn’t cower. She leaned forward and snarled, “Don’t tempt me to kill you. I’d hate to feel guilty about gutting a friend.”

  The threat had the one called Ishtara bellowing with laughter. “You, kill me? You always know how to amuse, Red Tide.”

  “Don’t you start with that name again,” the human grumbled.

  Thyos listened in rapt attention to the strange repartee. It reminded him of the jesting among the warriors at home. Perhaps they weren’t so different after all.

  “You should accept the fine name given to you,” the Zonian declared.

  “I don’t need a new name, because I have one. Clarabelle. Remember? Clar-a-belle.” She enunciated slowly.

  A strange series of consonants, too many in his mind. “Why Red Tide?” he found himself asking, drawing the Zonian’s attention.

  “Who are you?” Ishtara eyed him suspiciously.

  Thyos knew better than to move too quickly. She’d attack at once if she thought him hostile. The Zonians were fast. Renowned. Deadly.

  Their reputation closely mirrored that of his own people, meaning he would show her respect. Yet, at the same time, he was almost tempted to see what would happen if they did battle head to head. Was the rumor of their fierceness true or exaggerated? He wouldn’t mind experiencing a taste. Good sparring partners weren’t always easy to find.

  Since he saw no harm in giving his name, he replied. “I am Thyos of—”

  The Clara-a-belle interrupted. “His name must be dumbass because only an idiot would interrupt me having a conversation with my friend.”

  “She asked me a question. It would be disrespectful to not reply.”

  “Only because you listened in on a private conversation,” she reminded.

  “And?” It was only eavesdropping if a person hid to listen.

  “And my nickname is none of your business.”

  Why did her gaze slide to the side? Why was she turning an interesting shade of red?

  “Red Tide is unique. I assume you earned it?” He could only imagine what it meant. “Is it because of how you use your knives in a fight?”

  Ishtara snorted. “She wishes! Girl bleeds like she’s going to die when her woman’s time hits. Messy and avoidable if she’d just agree to a few stitches.”

  “Oh, my gawd, what is wrong with you?” Belle—he decided on a much more manageable version of her name—yelled. “I cannot believe you just told him about my periods.”

  “I don’t understand your embarrassment of female menses.” Ishtara sniffed. “It is quite common among the lesser races. Not us, of course. We have perfected the art of procreation.”

  According to biology literature on the procreation practices of Zonians, that involved an egg, a warm and bloody corpse, and a bed of coals. Add some seasoning and it sounded like dinner to him.

  Belle gritted her teeth and hissed, “You know we don’t talk about that stuff.”

  “You don’t, and it is a weakness. Embrace the fact you’re a copious bleeder. Perhaps a male will think it makes you an excellent breeder, thus increasing the possibilities of fertilization.”

  “Ewww.” Belle’s embarrassment was clear and amusing.

  But it also brought up a concern for him. “Do you not wish to create progeny?”

  “Not particularly.” Her nose wrinkled.

  “She says that now,” Ishtara interrupted, “and yet you put a screaming, wrinkled, fleshy blob in her arms and she’ll change her mind.”

  Thyos couldn’t stop his laughter at Belle’s expression, which only deepened her scowl. “Perhaps I can aid in her finding an appropriate donor.”

  “I don’t need your help. As a matter of fact, you can leave now.” She thought she could dismiss him.

  As if. He’d just found her. He wasn’t about to leave.

  He got his chance when the Zonian asked, “How can you help?”

  Belle hastily huffed, “He can’t. He doesn’t know of any humans. I’m the first he’s met.”

  Ishtara eyed him. “Can you find more humans?”

  This was a direct question, and lying here would get him hurt later, so he hedged. “Maybe.”

  “First it’s he can, now it’s maybe,” Belle drawled. “He’s lying and wasting our time.”

  “I’m not lying.” He looked her straight in the eye as he said, “I can give you what you need.”

  Ishtara clicked her beak. “He’s telling the truth as he knows it.”

  “He’s obviously deranged.” Belle glanced at him and with a sneer said, “Exactly how many times were you dropped on your head as a child?”

  “None.”

  “Which explains the soft skulls,” Ishtara clucked. “For me, I was dropped several times during the formative stage.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Belle asked.

  “Why would I jest? It’s a common practice to strengthen the textile thickness of a skull with some well-applied blows,” Ishtara replied.

  “You do realize you’re just causing hematomas that lead to permanent brain damage, right?” Clarabelle asked.

  “Not true,” the Zonian scoffed. “My head can withstand most direct blows without any ill effect. Why, I’ve been whacked more than a hundred times and look at me. I’m stronger than ever.” Ishtara thumped her chest.

>   “Do you remember what you did in that bar last night after you rode the bucking Trewrm?”

  Judging by the frown on Ishtara’s face, she didn’t.

  Clarabelle leaned close and whispered, loud enough he could hear, “Picture this if you can. You and an Ymp in a bar, humping on the dance floor.”

  The statement led to the Zonian clucking and the stubby wings on her back snapping. “You lie.”

  “Am I? Have you taken a pregnancy test in the last day?”

  “I would know if I fornicated.”

  “If you remembered…” The human female blinked in false innocence.

  He almost laughed. The banter proved wildly entertaining.

  “One day someone will slit your throat while you sleep. You are truly evil,” grumbled Ishtara, only to beam. “I’m so proud.”

  “Only because I had an awesome teacher.” The pair grinned at each other, and that quickly, the verbal sparring stopped and they both turned their attention on him.

  “What should we do about him?” Belle asked.

  “Think he tastes any good?”

  “I wouldn’t suggest taking a bite,” he warned. Perhaps he would get to fight, after all. The question being, should he overpower his mate or kill her in the hopes of finding a new one? Karma might punish him if he did the latter.

  “Do you really think you can locate more humans for Red Tide and the others?” Ishtara demanded.

  “Maybe. I can begin seeking immediately,” he hastened to add, as those wings on the Zonian’s back extended in agitation.

  “What makes you think you’ll find anything? I’ve been looking and looking and coming up empty,” stated Clarabelle. “You’d think with a universe worth of information we’d get a kickass internet and search engine. But no. Finding out anything sucks ass because all you get are commercials. If I say search for a human, the first thing that comes up is dolls. Robotic, human-looking sex dolls!”

  Ishtara took on a somber expression. “I’ve told you to be careful with those. There have been issues with some of those robots gaining sentience.”

  Even Thyos had heard about those androids who suddenly killed their owners and escaped. No one understood why it kept happening but assumed a virus. All the more reason to never allow that kind of sentient technology near Qhryce.