by Dixon, Ruby
I frown at her but take the skirt. "I can't believe I'm doing this."
She just beams at me. "Hurry. You need to be there in fifteen."
* * *
Twenty minutes later, I hurriedly park my car at the nearest trendy bar and listen to the irritating ping of the N'ferno app on my phone that reminds me over and over that I'm late for my impromptu date. Stupid app. I mentally waffle between wanting to smack Kayleigh for setting me up on this date and absurdly hoping that he's a nice guy. I glance down at the app and tap the "I'm here" button on my phone to let it know to stop wailing its annoying beeps.
As I do, it pops up the profile picture of my date in case I forgot what he looks like. He's handsome all right. In fact, that is the only reason I'm here instead of bailing out like any sane person would do. It doesn't matter that (he says) he's rich and that Kayleigh really wants me to have a date for the “power dinner” at my corporate office next month. The guy's incredible looking if this photo is for real. There's a massive filter on the damn thing so everything looks bleached to heck and grayish white, but I guess it's artistic license. Even a million photo filters in the world can't hide the rugged jawline and big, muscular arms. He's got intense-looking eyes and a wide smile that says he doesn't take himself too seriously. He's utterly gorgeous and I'm more than a little surprised that he clicked on my profile. Other than my long hair, I'm pretty average looking, and anyone can grow hair.
I really, really hope Kayleigh didn't throw anything weird into my profile, like "sucks a mean dick on the first date" or something scary like that. I don't think she would, but I'm also not entirely sure why a gorgeous, successful man would pick a girl whose N'ferno profile is as useless as mine.
Something's not adding up.
I glance at the picture on my phone one more time and then head into the bar. I peer around, looking for my date, but when I don't see a likely candidate hanging out at the actual bar itself, I move through the booths of the restaurant, checking for a man alone that vaguely matches the picture sent. There's no one in the booths at the very back of the bar, though, and I feel a twinge of annoyance. Stood up? Figures. This time, when I get home, I'm really going to cancel my profile and—
"Are you the female Jenna?"
I turn at the sound of the heavily accented voice and look up. And up. Good lord, this man's tall.
Good lord, this man is PALE.
"You're uh…Jad-Jad—" I stammer, trying to think of his long, weird name. I thought it was foreign. Now, hearing his thick accent, I know it's foreign.
"Jadzion," he tells me, his tongue rolling around the syllables. He reaches out and touches my elbow. "Come, let us procure seating."
I let him lead me to one of the back booths, not entirely sure what to make of this. "Did you call me 'female'?"
"Hm?" He gestures at a private booth, the move gentlemanly and polite.
"Never mind." I must have heard wrong. I sit down on one side of the booth and am relieved when he considers both benches, and then sits across from me. Handsome or not, you don't sit on the same side of a booth on the first date. This way I get to look at him.
And that's a good thing, because I have a feeling I'm going to be doing a lot of staring.
This guy's really pale and tall. No, it's not just pale, I realize as he runs his fingers through short, white-blonde hair. He's almost colorless. Even his eyes are so light a gray that they almost seem like glass. His skin is two shades lighter than his hair, which I didn't think was possible. Turns out that weird black and white filter wasn't a filter after all. He really is this shade of ghost white. I know there's a medical condition for such a thing, and it takes me a moment before I remember what it is. Albinism—where certain animals (or people) are born without pigment. I'm surprised he didn't mention it in his profile, but then I feel stupid. I don't mention that I dye my hair. It's just skin color, and he's probably been given shit about it all his life. I decide I'm not going to be one of those people, so I smile brightly at him. "It's nice to meet you. I'm sorry I'm late. I hope I didn't mess up your plans."
"Not at all. I’m very pleased at the sight of you."
I blush to hear that. "So, um, are you new to N'ferno dating?"
"Oh yes. Very new." He picks up the napkin roll of silverware on the table and studies it curiously, then sniffs it.
Er, okay. I cautiously sniff mine in case it smells funny, but it just smells like fabric. At that moment, the waiter comes up, and I want to slide under the table and hide with embarrassment at the look he shoots us. "Can I get you both a drink?" he asks.
"Water for me," I say quickly.
"The same," Jadzion replies, gazing up at the waiter with that same curious look he gave the napkins. I don't see anything strange about the waiter, personally. This is a sports bar, so he's wearing a referee-striped shirt and has on a serving apron at his waist. Nothing unusual.
I clasp my hands and study my date as he picks up each item on the table and proceeds to examine it as if he's never been in a restaurant before. His clothing doesn't seem all that weird. Sure, he's wearing a long-sleeved, tight black shirt with a high neck in the dead heat of summer, but the material looks thin and shows off his incredible musculature and big arms. It has to be hot, but maybe he's doing his best to cover up his extremely pale skin. I don't recall his pants—dark cargo pants of some kind I think—but other than his clothes being tight and dark for summer, he's dressed fairly normally too.
As my “date” sniffs a packet of sweetener, I start to wonder if this is a prank. Or if this guy's having fun at my expense. "Do you smell something strange on the table?" I have to ask.
"I have to admit, after spending endless amounts of time trapped on my ship, everything here smells unusual."
Oh. That seems kind of logical, I suppose. "You're a sailor?"
"A what?"
"A…sailor? Do you own a boat?"
"A boat? No." He gives me a puzzled smile. "Do you?"
His thickly accented words remind me that perhaps not everything translates well. It's clear English is new to him, so I decide to be polite. I just smile, ignoring the warning pings going off in my head. "Have you been in Albuquerque for long?"
Jadzion rubs his brow, his smile becoming a little forced. "Less than a day."
Those small pings in my head turn into sirens. Now my smile's the forced one. "You don't say." I discreetly pull my phone into my lap, waiting for the right moment to call Kayleigh for my rescue. I'm going to scream at her for thinking this would work.
It's clear that Jadzion is slightly unhinged.
"I’m here on business. It’s a very interesting place, though. Much to see." And he rubs his forehead again.
The waiter brings two glasses of water and disappears before I can send him a “help me” look, so I grab my straw and glass and nurse it so I don't have to talk. As I drink, I notice he picks up his glass and points a thick watchband at it. He reads the face of the watchband before taking a big swig of his drink, and then grimaces. I notice that his pale skin is a little flushed and sweaty.
And because I'm a sucker, I have to ask. "Are you okay?"
"Just a reaction to the antidote," he tells me. "Happens to all males."
"Antidote? Were you poisoned?"
He snorts, amusement curling his mouth. "It feels a bit like it." And he takes another hefty drink of water.
The waiter returns, all smiles as he pulls out his pad. "Are we ready to order food?"
I open my mouth silently, not entirely sure how to answer. I haven’t had a good moment to escape yet. I could now, but my date looks unwell and I’d be a jerk to just bail if he’s going to be sick. I might be stuck at this date after all. Ugh. Well, I might as well eat something. "Are we doing split tickets…?"
Jadzion looks surprised. "Oh, must we eat now? I was hoping we could move on to the main reason why we are here."
I give him a baffled look. "What main reason?" Now I'm really going to kill Kayleigh if she said some
thing and didn't tell me about it.
He pulls out his watch-thingie and types in a few things, then a display lights up in 3D on the table, like he's beamed it there. How very Star Trek. It's my profile on N'ferno, too. There's my terrible picture. Jadzion looks at me. "I would like to get married. Tonight, if possible."
I swallow wrong and begin to cough, spraying water everywhere.
The waiter's eyes widen. "Why don't I give you two a minute."
3
JENNA
I can't stop staring at the pale man across from me, or the dating profile he's beaming up on our table for the entire world to see. A few people at nearby tables are staring at us and whispering, and that only makes my coughing worse as I struggle to choke down a breath.
Let's Get Married. The only information I have on my profile. Damn it. Is that why he's here? I put that on there to scare freaks off, not draw them in.
But this Jadzion guy is looking at me expectantly. "Are you serious?" I ask when I'm able to breathe again.
He looks puzzled, tapping his watch and shutting off the display. "Of course. Why wouldn’t I be serious?"
"It was a joke. I don't want to get married." Well, actually, I do, but not on the first date, and not to this weirdo. Certainly not tonight.
"Ah. I knew it was too good to be true. I need a bride." He scratches absently at his flushed skin and he looks rather…sweaty at the moment. There's a glassy light in his eyes and overall he's not looking so hot.
"You need a bride? For what?"
I'm expecting to hear the usual “green card” spiel that so many rom-coms hinge on. Instead, Jadzion rubs his fingers over his pale brow. "I have to meet a man."
He…wants to meet a man? "You sure you don't mean you need a beard?"
"Beard? No. My brother likes his beard, but I find it quite scratchy. I prefer to be clean shaven." And he blinks at me.
Ugh. I get to my feet, because I've had enough of this. "I don't appreciate you making fun of me, you know. N'ferno is for people that are serious about dating, not for trolls. You're wasting my time and this is just…rude. Inconsiderate. Irresponsible. And just…rude!" I can't think of enough unhappy words to fling at him. With that, I snatch my purse up and storm out of the bar.
"Wait, female—"
I knew it. I knew he said “female”! Just another bit of weirdness from this man. I don't stop, heading toward the door as fast as I can go in high heels. The last thing I want to do is create a scene in the bar, because too many people are already staring. I want to go home. I want to shower all this makeup off, get into my pajamas, delete all my online profiles—dating or not—and just watch some Netflix and chill by myself.
This is why I'm single, of course, but I honestly don't care at this point. If guys like Jadzion are all that I attract, I'll just freaking stay single.
"Jenna." I hear my name even as I step out into the parking lot, and I click the key fob to my car over and over again, waiting for the chirp. I speed up, more or less trotting across the hot asphalt. Fuck this guy.
Fuck dating. I'm done.
"Jenna, talk to me. I’d appreciate it if you could tell me what I’ve said that insulted you so I do not duplicate it in the future." Jadzion jogs up to my side and moves in front of me. He doesn't touch me—it's the only reason he doesn't get a key in the groin—but it's clear he wants an answer.
"You want to know why I'm mad," I say flatly, gripping my keys tightly. "It's not obvious?"
"It’s not." His voice is grave. "I do truly need a bride."
"Well, this is clearly not the way to go about it," I hiss at him. "Now get away from my car."
Jadzion wavers, wiping sweat from his brow before straightening his big body. "You say this isn’t how it is done. I need to know how it is so I can learn. I really do need a bride. Tonight."
"Okay, the whole tonight thing is a starting point for what's wrong, buddy. You don't just meet a woman and then marry her!"
"You must co-habitate in genderless housing for a time?" he guesses.
"Do what?" I stare at him.
As I do, his skin turns even redder and more sweat pours down his face. His mouth gets really pale and the giant guy actually sways again, like he's about to topple over.
Alarm races through me. "Um, are you all right? Do I need to call someone for you?"
He bends over, his hands on his knees, and takes deep breaths. "I think it’s the antidote."
I take a step forward, because it's clear the guy's not doing well and I don't want to abandon a sick man—no matter how much of a dick he is. "Is that some sort of new street drug?"
"It is…something I cannot answer." He looks up at me and I notice his pupils are huge. "I’ve never had this reaction to the antidote before, but maybe I shouldn’t have taken as much as I did." He presses one large hand to his brow again.
"How much did you take?"
"Double," he says faintly.
"Double?" I echo, my voice squeaky. "Why the fuck would you take double of whatever this stuff is?"
"Because I’m around females such as yourself. It affects me greatly. I…" He goes silent, then shivers all over.
"Jadzion?" I tap him on his shoulder. "Why don't you straighten up for a sec?"
He does, his massive form looming over me again, and I remember just how huge this guy really is. Jesus. I swear his arm is as big around as my thigh, and I don't have small thighs. But as he straightens, he weaves on his feet, and his eyes roll back. The big pale man topples over in the parking lot and sprawls out on the pavement, right next to my car.
"Shit!" I get down on my knees and slap his cheek lightly. "Jadzion! Wake up! Hello! Are you all right?"
A split second later, a man races to my side from the opposite end of the parking lot. "Ma'am, is your boyfriend all right?"
"He's not my boyfriend, and I don't know! He passed out!" I keep tapping Jadzion's cheek, even though he's flushed and coated with sweat.
"He's mighty pale," the elderly man says.
I don't point out that he was mighty pale before, because I don't know Jadzion, not really. What if the pale isn't natural? What if he's not really an albino and I'm an idiot? I bite my lip, uncertain.
"Here," the stranger says, pulling a bottle of water out of a shoulder pack. "Let's see if we can get him to drink this. If not, we need to call an ambulance."
"Am…bu…?" Jadzion breathes.
"Medical help," I offer, taking his hand and patting it. "We'll get you to a doctor."
He squeezes my hand tightly, his eyes going wide. "No doctors, Jenna. Please."
"I…" Helpless, I look at the stranger who's joined us, but he only offers the water bottle to my date once more. "Just drink," I tell Jadzion, defeated.
The pale man props up against the side of my car and sips water, watching me the entire time. The helpless feeling just keeps increasing and I worry that I can't leave him. Not now. If I woke up the next day and found out that he died, I'd be all kinds of messed up. Heck, maybe the weird stuff he's saying is because of this drug he took—this “antidote.”
"You all right, son?" the elderly man asks as he gets to his feet. "Need help standing?"
"I am well, thank you," Jadzion says, and his tone is grave. "I owe you a life-debt, but I cannot repay it at the moment."
"Don't you worry about anything." The man claps me on the shoulder. "If you two kids are good now, I'm going to head in and watch the game."
"I—" I begin.
"We are fine, thank you," Jadzion says, and slowly gets to his feet.
I sigh as we're left alone again. The man heads into the bar and I turn back to Jadzion to see if he's still that strange unearthly pale. He is, but the flush hasn't gone away, either, and he looks as if he could topple again at any moment. "You should probably get out of this heat," I tell him lamely.
"I should," he agrees. "It’s a short walk back to my…ah…” He pauses, and I wonder if he even has a place to go.
Ah, fuck. Now
I'm the one pressing my hand to my forehead. Do I tell a weird stranger to get into my car with me and drive him home? Or do I leave him here and hope he doesn't die of heatstroke or overdose? There's no right answer to this. I groan and clench my keys tightly. "I'll drive you, but I have a taser in my purse," I lie. "And if you try any funny shit, I'm going to laser your ass so fast you won't be able to blink."
Jadzion stares at me for a long moment. A slow grin spreads across his face. "How fierce you are, female. I like it."
And he nearly crumples again.
That does it. "Just get in the damn car."
4
JADZION
I'm silent as the female drives her vehicle to the park my shuttle is stealthed in. I say nothing because in truth, I am in danger of vomiting my guts up and if I open my mouth, I worry that I am going to spew all over her tiny vehicle. She already hates me enough.
Stars-damned antidote. I should never have taken it.
Of course, that wasn't a choice, either. The moment I saw Jenna, I was pleased with her appearance. Her hair is long and silky, her skin a fascinating pale shade that is not quite gold, not quite white, and she has a sprinkle of dots across her tiny nose. She’s not drooling excessively at the mouth with attraction, but I’m all right with that. Her figure is lush and her voice utterly pleasing. And her scent? I bite back a groan.
If the antidote had not disabled everything south of my belt, I would have tossed her over my shoulder and dragged her back to my ship as a R’Etor in full rut. Instead, I’m sweating and feverish with the antidote's reaction as it tries desperately to keep up with the heat steaming my blood. A R’Etor who finds an attractive female is singular in his pursuit of her before all other things. His only thought is to drive deep into her body, to fill her with his seed. His skin will continue to flush and heat, making it obvious to all around him that he is in rut. And until he claims her, he will be as a wild beast.
And that’s just attraction. God stars help the man who finds his truemate.