by Lori Foster
Wincing in dread, Kayli stiff-armed Michael. “You must release me. Now.”
Before she could free herself, the voice continued with icy censure. “How dare you behave this way? Kayli Raine, this is not how you were raised to represent me. This is not how you serve your colony!”
From bad to worse. “Of course. I was just—”
“I won’t hear your excuses, young lady, because there are none. This is a most inappropriate time for such displays of impropriety. As you well know, the day of our next sacrifice approaches.”
His eyes narrowing at the censure, Michael loosened his hold and turned to her mother. Gloriously naked, he asked, “And just who the hell are you?”
SO cheerful that he wanted to whoop, to do cartwheels and kicks and then carry Kayli off for some very private one-on-one celebration, Mallet barely held himself in check.
That is, until the pinch-faced broad showed up, and all the joy sucked out of the room as if her cold presence freeze-dried all happy emotions.
Given how Kayli squirmed beside him, any dope could figure out that she was horrified. Mallet disliked that most of all.
“Mother,” Kayli said, “I can explain.”
“Mother?” Mallet looked at the woman more closely. She looked to be a well-preserved forty-something, old enough, he supposed, to have mothered Kayli, if she’d gotten an early start at that sort of thing.
The coloring differed, with Kayli blond and hazel-eyed, and her mother dark-haired with striking blue eyes. Still, he saw a resemblance in the stubborn chin and high cheekbones, the shape of the nose and arch of the eyebrows.
But where Kayli was lean and lithe, her mother was voluptuous. The older woman spilled curves, attitude, and indignation.
For many reasons, not the least of which was how she’d spoken to Kayli, Mallet disliked her on sight. “So that’s her, huh? The head honcho?”
Kayli groaned.
The mother puckered up like she’d just bitten into a very ripe lemon. “Kayli, what does he say?”
Kayli cleared her throat. “It’s his native colloquialisms, Mother. He’s only confirming—in his own way—that you’re the Arbiter, our matriarchal leader.”
“I see.” She gave a graceful but hoity nod. “This is my colony, yes.”
“Own it lock, stock, and barrel, do you?” He didn’t wait for her to reply. “Well, I hope you’re not looking for me to bow or kneel or anything subservient like that. Ain’t in my nature.”
She pinched even more. Unlike her daughter, her gaze never once wavered from his face. “Not at all. It is our hope that you shall take a place in the hierarchy, and bow to no one. To the contrary, our people will hail you.”
“Yeah, I’m not much into that, either.” He didn’t mind a horde of screaming fans while he fought, or some sexy female groupies outside of a bout. But other than that, he preferred to be treated like everyone else.
Ignoring his dissention, the mother tried to forge on with her purpose. “Shall I call you Michael?”
“Whatever floats your boat.” Her uptight, aloof attitude continued to nettle him. He’d never been a big fan of social classes, and he wasn’t about to start liking the separation now.
Again, Kayli rushed to explain his meaning. “If it pleases you to address him by his first name, he’s agreeable.”
The mother said, “Thank you, Michael. And you may address me by my given name, Raemay.”
“Sure thing.” Now that his playtime with Kayli had been demolished, he supposed he should find out about the business at hand. Crossing his arms over his chest, he faced Kayli’s mother and quirked a brow. “Now what, Raemay?”
Put off by his casual speech, she nonetheless mustered up her diplomacy. “I wish you to meet my daughters, Idola and Mesha.”
He glanced back at Kayli with surprise. “You have sisters?”
“Yes. I informed you previously, remember?” Her gaze took another quick trip down and then back up his body again.
Pleased that his body kept drawing her attention, he smiled.
When her flustered gaze clashed with his, more color warmed her face.
Amused, Mallet accepted the robe that two squirrely fellows kept trying to get on him without actually getting close enough to touch him. He held it up, then shook his head.
“You realize there’s no way this’ll fit my shoulders?”
When Kayli looked grieved, he shrugged and wrapped it around his waist, tucking in the edges.
Hoping to tease Kayli out of her tense mood, he asked, “Better?”
Her attention went to his still naked chest. “Marginally, thank you.” She rushed into speech. “My sisters will be presented to you first, before the rest of the available females. It would be ideal if you chose one of them.”
“Chose one of them for what?”
Kayli blinked hard and fast, and her mouth moved, but no sound emerged.
Raemay filled in. “We would be honored for you to take union with our family.”
“Take union?” Mallet didn’t like the sound of that at all. “What’s that mean, take union?”
But no one seemed inclined to explain. Instead, Raemay cast her daughter a chiding look. “You haven’t told him of the ceremony?”
“I … ah … I did, just not in detail.”
Raemay dismissed her with a frown. “I can start them preparing now,” she said. “There is no time to waste.”
Balking at that idea, Kayli gave immediate protest. “But, Mother, Michael must have time to look around.”
“Yeah,” Mallet said, without knowing why he felt compelled to complain. “I need time to look around.”
“And to get to know our ways.” Kayli didn’t look at him, but instead beseeched her mother, “He needs to be fed and rested and, as you can see, properly attired.”
Raemay took in his size in a single scathing glance. “He appears more than capable of feeding and bathing himself.”
Heat scalded Kayli’s cheeks. “Yes, of course. But he’s yet to know how to acquire nourishment here, and we need to find something suitable that’ll fit his unusual proportions.”
Listening to the two women, Mallet decided he needed to know what the hell this union business was about. He had his suspicions, but he hated to jump the gun with a wrong assumption.
Kayli had mentioned a ceremony for him to take his place in the hierarchy. But if the ceremony was a union—with a woman—well, they’d just have to appoint him some other way.
Raemay tapped a finger to her chin as she assessed him. “I doubt there’s anything prepared to suit him. He is rather large.”
“We’ll need to improvise, I fear.”
“Had you forewarned us of this issue to give us time to properly prepare, I wouldn’t have suffered him so improperly attired in my presence.”
“As I recall,” Mallet told her, “I wasn’t attired at all, improper or otherwise.”
“Sir,” Kayli warned, as if speaking back to her mother was a cardinal offense.
Because of Kayli’s unusual jitters, he disliked the mother even more. She spoke down to her daughter, and sounded like a nag.
To redirect the conversation, he asked, “I don’t suppose you have any jeans?”
“Genes?” Bewilderment had her brows pinched down. “But of course. We’re advanced, but every human still has their genetic makeup—”
“No.” Mallet shook his head at the misunderstanding. “I mean blue jeans. Denim.”
“Ah.” Kayli nodded. “It’s a material,” she explained to her mother. Then she said to Mallet, “I saw it on your friends, yes? I believe we could replicate it.”
“Great, because I’m sure as hell not wearing what they wear.” His gaze went over the android assistants with disgust. They looked like a bunch of sissies in their flowing robes and draping pants.
Her mother’s features tightened. “Fine. Any other … demands?”
“I could use a big juicy steak and a baked potato.”
Rae
may eyed him as if he’d turned into a Neanderthal. “We do not consume beef here.”
“No kidding?” A colony of vegetarians? Hoping he wouldn’t have to follow suit, Mallet asked, “Is that a religious or dietary restriction?”
“Neither,” Kayli interjected. “I can have the meal prepared for you immediately. Would you like to dine here or elsewhere?”
“I don’t know what elsewhere you have, sugar. So far, I don’t know much of anything except that your assistants wear PJs and your mom curls her lip over the mention of a steak.” So saying, he faced the older woman. “So, yeah, Mom, how about giving us a little time to check out the joint, get familiar and all that?”
“But you must meet Idola and Mesha.”
Mallet held up a hand. “Afterward, I’d be happy to meet Kayli’s sisters, just don’t pin any hopes on me leaping headlong into any fancy unions of any kind. Ain’t gonna happen.”
Raemay went rigid with displeasure.
And so what? If he didn’t miss his guess, the whole union thing was a way to leg-shackle him and, no matter the level of his gratitude, he wasn’t falling for that.
And if he was wrong, at least Mom would know up front how he felt.
“My daughters are very beautiful young ladies.”
With his look aimed at Kayli, Mallet said, “No argument there.” Now that he’d met Kayli, kissed her and held her, he wasn’t about to start any hanky-panky with her siblings, regardless of how hot they might be. Most could call him a down-home yahoo, but he wasn’t a complete fool. Sisters were definitely taboo.
Raemay wasn’t amused by his lack of deference. “You, sir, are misguided in making light of such a serious situation.”
“Mother,” Kayli implored. “He needs some time.”
Outrage simmered off Raemay, but she finally relented. “Very well.” She addressed Mallet. “You have until the morning, and then you must choose.”
The hell you say! “Why the rush?” he asked, hoping to buy himself some time from whatever odd customs they had in mind.
“Whomever you choose will be removed from availability. The decision must be made before noontime, when the next sacrifice will be selected.”
Sacrifice? Now just what the hell did that mean?
Mallet started to ask, but Raemay poofed into thin air, just as he’d seen her daughter do on too many occasions.
He rounded on Kayli. “It’s damned annoying the way you women disappear without warning.”
Distraught, Kayli pressed her fingertips to her temples. “Yes, well, you’ll become accustomed.” Then under her breath, she added, “I hope.”
A little paler and a whole lot more strained, she got down to business. “Tyehim, Darian, please order up suitable clothing and shoes. I believe you heard his preferences. Hadar, prepare a room. He’ll need a bigger bed, obviously. You’ll find us shortly in the dining area.”
The one she’d addressed as Tyehim inched nearer. “I would scan you, sir.”
“Scan me?”
“It’s painless,” Kayli said. “Just hold still a moment.”
“Arms out, please,” Tyehim directed. When Mallet, wearing a pained expression of annoyance, lifted both arms straight out, he nodded. “Excellent.”
In the next instant, a bluish beam came from Tyehim’s eyes, fanning out to encompass Mallet’s size as it slid over him, head to toes.
Freakin’ amazing.
Tyehim nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
“Look … Tyehim is it?” At the man’s nod, Mallet said, “You don’t need to call me sir. Mallet will do.”
“Mallet?”
“My fight name. You know, hardheaded? Like a big sledgehammer?”
Tyehim glanced at Kayli with confusion, then back to Mallet. “Thank you, Mallet. I will have the clothing anon.”
Mallet watched some of the men scurry off, leaving several others behind. Kayli sure had a crew of them, and they were all fair-haired, lean lightweights. He supposed, to a woman, they’d be considered handsome.
He didn’t like it.
Temper pricked, he asked, “Will your lackeys know my size?”
Kayli seemed too distracted to react as he wanted. “They are not lackeys, sir, but highly developed AMAs.”
“AMAs?”
“Android male assistants. There are but a few AFAs, or—”
“Android female assistants. Got it.” Taking their measure, Mallet strode a wide circle around the AMAs remaining in close proximity. He enjoyed the sheer pleasure of walking under his own steam.
The AMAs looked as human as he did, not at all like machines. “So they’re sexually oriented android robots, like in Terminator and Alien?”
“Sexually oriented only in part.” Kayli held out a hand. “Our time is limited, so I’d prefer to brief you on the way.”
Though skeptical, Mallet looked forward to her explanations. He took her hand and she started him down the long, narrow corridor.
That, too, he enjoyed. Hell, he wanted to run. He wanted to jump and kick and train.
He wanted to fight again. Right now. Not in anger, but in competition, just to assure himself that he was back, as good as ever.
But Kayli’s gentleness, her undeniable femininity as she walked beside him, tempered his desire to test his strength and speed. Instead, his thoughts went to her, what made her tick, what motivated her.
What excited her.
Her hand felt small and cool in his. And damn it, he felt protective. Not because of whatever malevolence she claimed against the colony, but because of her own misconceptions about her appeal, and her mother’s emotionless interaction with her.
Little by little, he was starting to believe.
Everywhere he looked, he saw things unfamiliar to him. It was all too vivid, too substantial to be a dream. His friends had seen Kayli. Drew Black had held her hand, the same as he himself did now.
She existed—which meant he really had transported to the future.
Kayli needed him, and he wanted to help her—not only with the problems she described, but with the inner turmoil he detected, too.
She glanced up at him, then away. “I understand that your media entertainment often focused on the future. That’s what you meant by Alien and Terminator?”
“Kick-ass movies, yeah. I enjoyed all the sequels, too.”
“Our AMAs are unlike those ill-tempered creatures of your films.”
Windows lined the corridor and through them, Mallet saw grasslands, towering trees, and flowers everywhere. The colors were brighter than any he’d ever seen; the sky so blue it hurt his eyes, the grass lushly green, the flowers a rainbow of hues.
Mallet moved to a window. “If we’re in a spaceship, we aren’t that high in the sky.”
She came up beside him. “We’re in my vessel, but while moored, we have restrictions on visibility. We must be close enough for all to see, but not so low that other vehicles might have to avoid us.”
“So if I jumped out—”
“You can’t!” She latched onto his arm with alarm. “The fall would extirpate you.”
“Extirpate?”
“Kill you. You would be beyond repair.” She shook his arm, anxious to make him understand. “I would not be able to make you whole again.”
Mallet covered her hand. “Sorry. Bad joke.” He lifted her hand and kissed her fingertips. “I’m not planning to damage myself again anytime soon.”
Her scowl showed just what she thought of his humor. With a tug, she steered him into a sterile room in direct contrast to what he’d seen out the windows.
There was no color here at all.
The warm, white stone floor held soft white chairs, odd in their design. Only the single door they’d entered broke the windowless white walls.
After one last stern look of reprimand, Kayli returned to their previous discussion. “Our AMAs are freethinking, but never provided with more strength than the person who acquires them. However, they are often more intelligent, and they can
be designed with a varying assortment of human emotions.”
Mallet turned a circle in awe. The temperature of the room wasn’t cold, but the atmosphere felt stark and frosty. Distracted, he pointed out, “Yours have emotions.”
“Yes, they do. I paid extra to have them fully equipped with all known sentiments. It makes it easier to enjoy their company.”
Because her mother kept herself so aloof? What about her sisters? Did they treat Kayli the same way? Like a stranger, an employee, rather than family?
That thought bothered Mallet a lot. He knew what it was to be without family. To have family but be distanced from them would surely be worse. “They’re like friends to you, even though they’re not real?”
“They are real,” she insisted again. “They’re just not human.”
Her tone showed her defensiveness of her AMAs. The same defensiveness one would have for a friend.
Mallet softened his tone. “All right.”
That just made her pricklier. “Please remember that things are very different here. I know that for you, your world consisted of one planet and one known being. Here, with me, you will discover many planets with many forms of beings.”
Enjoying her gumption, Mallet tweaked her chin and smiled. “Am I going to be freaked out?”
Proving she had an adequate grasp on his lingo, she fell into a smile, too. “Quite possibly.” Turning back to the room, she lifted her arm. “This, sir, is a media room. Here you can relax and take in an assortment of depictions of our colony and the worlds that surround ours.”
Mallet surveyed all that blank white space and cocked a brow. “All I see are walls.”
“That’s because nothing is activated yet.”
“Yeah, well …” Still skeptical, he pointed out the obvious. “I don’t see anything to activate.”
She sighed. “Everything is voice-activated. Everything is also prerecorded, so you don’t have to worry about intruding on anything or anyone in a personal manner, as I did with you and with your new friend, Travis Stockman.”
Travis wasn’t really a friend, but Mallet let that go. “Good to know.”
“I’ll enter your voice into the database, and then you can command the system to show you our wildlife, our food sources, our housing, and education. Anything you like.”