Arazhi (Kirenai Fated Mates (Intergalactic Dating Agency) Book 1)
Page 2
“Earth’s inhabitants are primitive, but not unintelligent,” his father said.
Damma added, “Their planet was supposed to be closed to trade, protected until the species was more technologically developed. But since it’s now public knowledge that Aguno has successfully bred with one, your father was forced to authorize limited social access.”
Arazhi scowled. “If the planet was supposed to be closed, how did Aguno end up with a mate? We should arrest him for breaking the trade edict and be done with it.”
“It’s not that easy.” Damma’s voice held a note of disgust. “Aguno rescued her from black market slave traders. Apparently, they’ve been abducting Earth females and forcing them into servitude without contracts.”
Arazhi’s throat tightened. Slavery was legal in this part of the galaxy, but only if a person enslaved themselves—and they always had the right to buy back their own contracts. Most of the palace bondservants entered contracts merely to enjoy the prestige of working for the emperor, and would be retired with a stipend when they were no longer able to work.
“What’s important now is how this affects our dynasty,” his father grated out, voice becoming more gravelly every time he spoke. “Humans are capable of producing children without a permanent bond.”
Arazhi shook his head. His father must be delusional. Kirenai could only reproduce after forming a permanent bond. “Didn’t you say Aguno was mated?”
Damma answered, “He is, but other rescued females had already been impregnated without being mated to their captors.”
“Are you certain the progeny are Kirenai?” Arazhi asked.
Kirenai could breed with a female of any species, producing male children that were always purely Kirenai, with empathic and shapeshifting abilities. The female progeny were of their mother’s species, although a few did also inherit Kirenai Iki’i power.
“The healers assure us none of the women have the genetic signatures of a mate bond, and the male offspring are Kirenai.”
A sense of unease filled Arazhi’s stomach. “So what do you want me to do?”
“Go to Earth, find a willing female, and produce an heir. Quickly.”
Arazhi took a step back. He’d pleasured his share of women, but never imagined doing so with the intent to produce a child. And he knew nothing about these humans. What if they really were as stupid as ijin’en? “How am I supposed to do that? Seduce my way across the planet until one of them gets pregnant?”
“Humans have agreed to hold an auction of willing females. Select one and do your duty. Now go. I must rest.” His father’s face disappeared beneath the surface, leaving behind only a ripple of green waves.
Arazhi turned to his damma. “He can’t possibly be serious.”
“He is.” She once more took his hand, a worried smile on her pale face. “I’ve met a few of the captured human women, and they appear to make good mothers. Many insisted on remaining here on Kirenai Prime with their offspring. I’ve established a foundation to house them and help raise the children. My hope is that you find a female worthy of bonding while you are on Earth. Please say you’ll at least try?”
“I shouldn’t have to try.” He scowled, thinking of those two years on Sireta Prime. “When I meet the right person, I’ll just know.”
“Shed your anger, Arazhi. Your heart has been closed for a long time. All I suggest is you open it again, or true happiness will never find you.”
He swallowed and glanced at his father’s pod. How was he supposed to pleasure a woman while his father might be dying? He rubbed his chin. “You think it was the Senburu who poisoned him?”
“That would make sense. They put forth a replacement, though his condition has not been made public.”
“I’m going to track down who did this and punish them.” He clenched his fists.
“We will. And the healers are doing their best to find an antidote for your father in the meantime. But right now, your job is to ensure our enemies can’t seize power before we can finish the investigation, and the only way to do that is to produce an heir.”
He sighed. He knew his duty. If humans were as willing to produce offspring as his father suggested, perhaps he wouldn’t be gone long. Then he would see to the investigation himself and find revenge. “All right,” he said. “I’ll go to Earth and meet these humans.”
3
Arazhi’s ship orbited the blue-green planet called Earth, waiting for his security officer, Zhiruto, to report back. The Intergalactic Dating Agency that had coordinated the auction charged exorbitant amounts to attend their events, which meant any other attendees would be either royalty or diplomats, like him, but after the attempt on the emperor’s life, Zhiruto had insisted on checking the venue out first.
While he waited, Arazhi read over the list of cultural requirements the IDA had provided in their Earth orientation packet.
Leashes required.
Must be licensed and vaccinated.
Feces must be cleaned up by owner.
Control excessive barking.
Fill in any holes created in lawn.
No swimming in fountain.
Do not interfere with wildlife.
Arazhi had been to many diverse planets and attended many interspecies functions, but leashes? Barking? Feces? What sort of race were these humans? No wonder his father had tried to keep the planet closed until the natives matured. Although Arazhi also couldn’t deny that there was a certain appeal to the shape of the species’ females now that he’d seen the images.
He practiced assuming the form of a human male once more, looking at himself via one of the camera feeds in his intergalactic vessel’s living quarters. Human men seemed to prefer wearing long coverings for their legs and torsos, leaving only their hands and heads bare. Even their feet were covered, and he hadn’t acquired any local clothing. Adjusting both color and shape wasn’t easy, but he thought he’d done fairly well emulating long dark blue slacks and a blue collared shirt that matched his skin.
His communicator beeped, and Zhiruto’s face took over the image on screen. “I’ve secured the area. All guests are accounted for. The universal translators are still updating hundreds of local languages, but it’s safe for you to transport down, Prince Arazhi.”
“All right, thank you.” Arazhi didn’t care for the transporter, preferring to land in the comfort and dignity of his ship, but non-essential technology was prohibited on newly introduced planets in order to keep it from ending up in the hands of natives who might not be ready for it.
He moved to the transport room and engaged the system. The computerized voice said, “Please prepare for deposition in aqueous habitat.”
He hesitated. Humans were supposed to be land-based, but they hadn’t yet formed a single language to share, so perhaps they hadn’t yet settled on being land-based, either. And these were the same coordinates Zhiruto had used. He’d never learned to swim as a biped, and hated water-based landings in that form.
Releasing a breath, Arazhi relaxed into his amorphous resting state.
The familiar cold tingle of dematerialization swept through him, and his view of the transport bay blinked out. An instant later, he was surrounded by fresh, flowing water. Bright lights flickered from blue to red to purple below the surface, and below him, a tiled floor had been littered with metallic disks. No other beings appeared to be in the water.
He pulled himself into his human form, water running off his shoulders and down his sides. Once he’d fully coalesced into his upright shape, he looked around. The pool only reached his knees, and a jet of water spouted into the night air. A pounding beat of Earth music came from somewhere nearby, and several humans gaped at him from beneath strings of lights draped along a nearby concrete path. One pulled out a small device and began flashing a light at him. Was she signaling for him to approach?
He stepped over the edge of the pool toward them.
The humans were all female, wearing various colored gowns that showed a lot of brow
n or pink legs. They all held leads connecting them to small, furry quadrupeds. One quadruped was making a sharp, repetitive sound, its body jerking with each burst of noise. Ah, he thought. This explained the cultural requirement about leashes. The people on G’nax had a symbiotic relationship with an eight-legged insectoid. Did humans have quadruped symbiotes?
Before he could get close enough to ask, the females hurried away.
He didn’t mind. It gave him a moment to smell the moist night air and watch a tiny insect with pale wings flutter against one of the lights. The path he stood on was edged with green vegetation, and he bent to touch the curiously even blades.
“My prince.” A tall blue figure approached along the path from the direction of the music.
Although the form was unfamiliar, Arazhi recognized Zhiruto’s Iki’i. His security officer had assumed the shape of a broadly muscled and bare-chested human, with thick blue hair falling in waves down his back. He carried a delicate flute of golden liquid in one hand.
“I was growing worried.” Zhiruto said as he came to a halt. “Why didn’t you use the updated coordinates I sent you?”
“I didn’t receive them.” Arazhi stood.
Zhiruto grimaced. “Sorry. The security systems have been getting some feedback and interfering with comm signals. I’ll get that fixed right away.”
Eyeing Zhiruto’s half-clothed figure, Arazhi asked, “Do all males in this region dress like this?”
“No, but you know how I am with emulating clothing.” Zhiruto winked. Clothing was the most difficult aspect Kirenai integrated into their shapeshifting. “And the females seem to like my current figure. Come, we don’t want to miss the first bondservants up for auction.”
They left the trail, cutting across the shorn blades toward a brightly lit dais where a band played. As they moved, Arazhi shifted again, emulating Zhiruto’s easier-to-maintain form.
The band’s melody was interesting, upbeat, reminding him of the balls he’d been to on Sireta Prime. At the base of the dais, several round tables hosted a smattering of Kirenai in human form, a pair of horned Khargals, and a single red-haired Fogarian with massive sideburns. Humans in black-and-white clothing moved between the tables carrying trays.
One of the female servers with brown hair pulled into a bun approached, carrying a tray filled with flutes of golden liquid. Her smile was nervous, but genuine. “Kan eek helf een?”
Arazhi frowned. “Excuse me?”
Zhiruto gestured toward the tray in the woman’s hands. “She’s offering you a drink.”
He removed one of the flutes from her tray and nodded, taking note of her interest in Zhiruto’s large muscles. He didn’t even need to use his Iki’i to sense her attraction. She kept glancing over her shoulder toward them as she departed.
“You’ve garnered some attention, I see.” Arazhi readjusted his musculature to more strongly resemble his security officer’s.
“She’s not one of the ones for sale,” replied Zhiruto, pulling out a chair at a table in front of the stage. He was usually more interested in the females they met, but tonight he was all business. “The females we’re after will be displayed for us there.”
Arazhi looked toward the stage where several humans stood at the side, clustered around a female in a dark blue dress. His breath caught in his throat. The female’s pale blonde hair was pulled up on top of her head, but tiny wisps had come loose along the sides, framing smooth rosy cheeks and glossed lips below a pair of glass lenses that accentuated her striking blue eyes. The neckline of her dress draped modestly over her collarbone, but left her shoulders and arms bare and did nothing to disguise her ample breasts and well-rounded hips.
She was stunning. But even more captivating was the way she directed the people around her.
He sighed and looked away. She was totally his type, but she wouldn’t be one of the females for sale, not with a bearing like that. She was undoubtedly a princess or dignitary. If he was going to buy a slave, he’d do best to select the meekest one. A female who would have no designs on becoming queen once she bore his child and earned her freedom.
He sampled the carbonated liquid in his flute, recognized it as alcohol, and downed it in one swallow. At least these humans had good taste in beverages. As he was looking around for the woman with the tray, the lights went out, and a voice came over the speaker. The words were garbled in his translator, but he caught enough to know the auction was about to begin.
On stage, a single spotlight popped to life, and the woman in the blue dress stepped into it. Once more, his breath caught in his throat.
She held a mic to her mouth. “Dang fur kom, ederon.”
Her voice was like a song, and a shiver ran through him, as if a lover had just stroked his pleasure line. Oritsu, she was amazing. He stopped trying to decipher her words and simply allowed the cadence to float over him. Why couldn’t she be for sale?
She handed the mic to a human male with a double chin and a patch of fur over his mouth who moved to a podium at the front of the stage. Lights popped on behind her, illuminating a cadre of females all dressed in gowns of sparkles and silk. Quite a few held animals in their arms or led them by leashes.
He leaned over to Zhiruto. “Are these creatures they carry symbiotic?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” Zhiruto shrugged. “I believe they are for sale, too.”
The quadrupeds were definitely gaining some interest from the Khargals, but not the kind he thought humans would appreciate. He nudged Zhiruto. “I get the sense these animals are precious to humans, not food. Go tell the Khargals before they try to eat one.”
Zhiruto grumbled, but rose to speak with the gray-skinned aliens.
Arazhi settled back against his seat and watched the females parade across the stage in some sort of synchronized march, quadrupeds in tow. The music ended, and the women filed off stage. A tall woman with a sharp chin remained, and the man at the podium began chanting in a singsong voice.
The Fogarian at the next table raised a hand. “Eight thousand.”
The double-chinned man pointed at him, and the woman nodded in his direction.
The auction has begun, Arazhi realized. He considered raising his hand, buying the woman, and getting this whole ordeal over with. Except he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off the woman in blue standing at the edge of the stage. One after another, women appeared, were bought, and descended to meet their new owners. One after another, Arazhi couldn’t bring himself to bid.
“Do none of these females entice you at all?” asked Zhiruto, who’d won a bid for a tall woman in a black dress.
Arazhi sighed and raised his hand to bid on the current offering, only to be outbid by the Fogarian.
Then the woman in the blue dress stepped forward once more, giving the audience a wide smile, one hand on her hip. His stomach sank. The auction was over, and he’d missed his chance. He glanced at the next table where a woman held a small quadruped on her lap and smiled nervously as the Kirenai reached out to stroke its fur.
At the podium, the auctioneer once more began his chant, and Arazhi’s attention snapped back to the stage in disbelief.
The woman in the blue dress was for sale.
A Khargal raised his hand. “Nine thousand.”
The woman smiled at him and made a small curtsey.
Arazhi was determined to have that smile all to himself. He raised his hand. “Ten.”
The Khargal raised his hand again. “Fifteen.”
This auction was pointless. Arazhi knew what he wanted, and money was no object, not when the fate of his dynasty was on the line. Plus, the mother of his child deserved recognition of her worth.
He rose from his seat. “Five hundred thousand.”
The woman’s eyes went round behind her lenses. She glanced at the auctioneer, who seemed just as stunned as she was.
The Khargal growled but crossed his arms and slumped back against his chair, shaking his head. “She’s all yours, Kirenai.”
Then the auctioneer banged his gavel. “Sold!”
And every human in the area burst into thunderous applause.
4
Georgie carefully made her way down the stage stairs, trying not to trip in the Louboutin stilettos she’d bought to go with her dress. She’d never owned shoes this expensive, not even for her wedding, but the Intergalactic Dating Agency had not only paid her up front for planning the event, it had reimbursed her for every receipt she submitted, including her formal wear. They seemed made of money, and she’d even secured stipends for her volunteers to buy gowns, which had made recruiting so easy, she’d eventually had to turn women away.
Every one of the aliens seemed to be rich, their bids escalating with every date auctioned. She almost wished she’d gone ahead and accepted every woman who’d volunteered. But that would be greedy. As it was, the shelter wouldn’t need to worry about funding for the rest of its existence, especially with that final bid. Five hundred thousand dollars! And it had been for her.
Blinded by stage lights, she hadn’t been able to see her bidder, but her date could have fins and fangs for all she cared. Heck, with the money they’d brought in, even Lora better not complain about this event, slime or no slime. Not that that was a worry. The aliens she’d glimpsed while coordinating the auction weren’t bad to look at. A couple had horns, and she’d spotted one terrifying guy who reminded her of Arnold Schwartzenegger with fangs and a wild mop of crimson hair. But the rest just looked like humans with blue skin. Not scary at all.
Picking up a nearby bottle of champagne and an empty flute, she minced across the lawn toward his table, trying not to let her heels sink into the grass. Women sat with aliens at every table, some looking uncomfortable, others laughing or showing off pets. With the auction complete, it was time for the guests to get to know each other.