The Vampire King's Mate

by T. S. Ryder

  Lisa looked over the faces. They were mostly blue-skinned, which was apparently the most common tone among species. She smiled. There were a few individuals with actual human shades, but they were quite rare. "If this really was from my time, they have the skin all wrong."

  "Did all humans have your color of skin?"

  "No. My white skin was actually not that common. Although Hollywood would have us think otherwise…"

  Her words died in her throat. At the end of the hallway, in a position of honor, was a projection of her brother. Her heart stopped and tears immediately blurred her vision. She ran forward, ignoring the faces that she passed. She hadn't dared hope to find him!

  To her surprise, when she got closer, she saw that everything about Tom's picture was perfect. The color of his skin, eyes, hair. He was even standing the way he always had, his hands in his pockets, a slightly sheepish grin on his face, his shoulders bent forwards.

  "You knew him?"

  Lisa nodded, leaning back against Zon, grateful for his presence. There was an explanation of who Tom was beside his portrait. Lisa skimmed over it, soaking in the translated words greedily.

  "This image was recreated from ancient digital recordings," she breathed out. "This unnamed man was credited with being the first person to correctly theorize how to avoid the temporal distortions in faster than light travel, allowing our ancestors to leave their planet without suffering the effects that plagued other primitive space travelers."

  "I'm not sure I believe that," Zon muttered.

  "I wish they had the date," Lisa said. "He promised me he was going to figure it out before my thirtieth birthday… I'm glad he didn't give up."

  Zon squeezed his hand. "Who was he?"

  "Tom. My brother." Lisa wiped away her tears before gently putting her hand on the glass that separated her from the holographic photograph. "I'm proud of you, Tommy. Who knew your legacy would live this long?"

  It hurt seeing his face, but there was relief as well, knowing that her brother hadn't given up after she was taken from Earth. Knowing that he had continued his life gave her the strength to continue hers as well. She pressed a kiss to the glass.

  "Goodbye, Tom."

  Zon kissed the top of her head.

  "We should name our son Tom," she said.

  They had been able to see the holographic projections of their child for several weeks now and knew it would be a healthy baby boy who looked almost exactly like his father.

  Lisa was growing more impatient every day to hold him, to watch him grow up and to know what sort of personality the little person growing inside of her would have. They had spoken a little of names, but neither of them had actually made any suggestions as to what exactly they should name their son.

  "Tom," Zon repeated. "After your brother."

  Reluctantly Lisa turned away from the picture of her brother and towards her mate. "If you have objections…"

  "No. It's traditional for T'Shav to name their children after an honored loved one. Usually, it is after a great warrior, but given the situation, I am certain that we can make an exception without being frowned upon."

  He grinned to show he was joking, but she playfully slapped his arm anyway. His eyes grew heated at the touch and Lisa hurriedly shook her head. "Nuh-uh. I can't possibly. Not when I'm this huge."

  "Sex helps the baby and you both. Besides, you've been saying that you want him to be born already, and it can help to speed up labor. As for this beautiful, round belly…" Zon knelt and kissed her belly button, cradling her stomach in his hands. "I like seeing you on all fours."

  Lisa shook her head, despite the heat that was rising in her. "Maybe later. Tomorrow. I'm too tired right now. We've been walking around here for hours… we should get back to the ship."

  Zon got to his feet again, nodding, and wrapped an arm around her while they headed back. Lisa glanced over her shoulder several times, grateful to know that they could return whenever she was feeling too homesick. Earth might be a dead, barren world now, but at least she had this place to visit.

  "There's something I should tell you…"

  Zon glanced at her, bumping her gently with his hip. "You're not going to tell me that you're not actually attracted to me, are you?"

  Lisa's jaw dropped. "What made you think I'd say that?"

  "Well… T'Shav aren't an attractive species. Our skin is too red, our build too muscular…"

  "Too muscular?" Lisa shook her head in amazement. "If you were on Earth back in my day, women would chase you all the time. You're the most attractive man I have ever met. Too muscular… Nope. Not at all."

  Zon laughed. "So what is it that you want to tell me?"

  Lisa stopped, reaching for both of his hands so he would turn towards her. He smiled, waiting patiently while she took in the sight of him. Her heart swelled and a silly grin grew over his face.

  "I really don't know why it's taken me this long to tell you, or admit it to myself. I guess I was just frightened."

  "Of me?"

  "No." Lisa shook her head. "Of the magnitude of what I'm about to say."

  "You'd better be frightened of me if you don't tell me soon." He added a playful growl in his throat that had Lisa rethinking her position of waiting until the next day for sex.

  "I love you."

  Zon's eyes widened.

  "I don't know when it happened, but I love you, Zon. Whether we’re starmates or not, I don't know. But I can say without a doubt that we are meant to be together. I want to be with you for the rest of my life, and I can't wait to explore this exciting new world with you."

  Zon wrapped his arms around her, bringing her in, answering her without words. As their lips met, far out in the reaches of space a star glowed brighter.

  *****

  THE END

  Caged by the Barbarian

  Description

  I am the prize in a cruel game. And these barbarians are killing each other to win me

  What is Bond, warlord of the T’Shav, supposed to do when the woman to play the Goddess in the Fifth Cycle Festival turns out to be his mate? Throw himself into the arena of course, cutting down his competitors with savage joy. This woman belongs to him.

  Lieutenant Sara O’Neill has one big secret: she’s human. After hiding her humanity her entire life, she is caged as the prize in a deadly, bloody game. She’ll be owned by the winner, his to do with whatever he pleases. Usually, that means being killed and eaten.

  There’s no way that she’ll want this brute with his violent tendencies. Until she does.

  But Bond has a mission to complete and he won’t be distracted. Yeah, right. That’s not happening when he’s stuck on a small spaceship with a curvy, delicious human.

  Turns out someone’s out to claim her and his unborn young. Doesn’t the enemy know what happens when they get on Bond’s nerve?

  Forced together, Bond and Sara have to fight the odds, focus on the mission and keep their hands off each other. Let’s see if they succeed... at that last part at least.

  Chapter One: Sara

  The controls shook in Lieutenant Sara O'Neill’s hands as she fought to keep the ship on course. The sudden pressure shift of entering the atmosphere caused it to buck from side to side. If she didn't keep its nose down, streamlined, she'd end up among the ash orbiting the planet. Her teeth clenched as the bright greens and blues of the planet's surface rushed towards her in the view screen.

  "Ozone layer cleared," her computer coolly informed her.

  Sara yanked on the controls, flipping the engines from forward to reverse thrust. It was a maneuver guaranteed to shut them off immediately in atmospheric conditions. The ship jerked and the hum of her engines cut out. Good. The engines were too powerful to be this close to the planet's surface; they'd propel her deep under the planet's exterior.

  The smaller thrusters were already on. Sara reached out to either side, manipulating levers to slow her descent. She operated this stupid ship comfortably with two people, but i
n most situations required more. The ship she had wanted to buy would have been much easier to handle on her own.

  Damn payroll cuts, Sara thought furiously as the control panel lit up, warning her of the imminent collision.

  A string of curses flew out of Sara's mouth as she lowered the landing gear. If this didn't work, she'd end up a smear on the planet's surface – an example of what not to do when the Corps trained next year's students.

  "Impact in ten seconds," the computer said. "Ten."

  Sara threw the thrusters on full blast, flinching when the whole ship shuddered. Screeching metal tore at her ears.

  "Nine."

  The lights flickered.

  "Eight."

  "Come on," Sara hissed. She was still going way too fast.

  "Seven."

  She abandoned the flight controls and rushed to cargo and disposal.

  "Six."

  Sara's hands flew over a panel, opening up the garbage and waste ports.

  "Five."

  "Activate emergency waste expulsion," she shouted.

  The propulsion of waste from the ports jerked the ship upright, throwing Sara to the ground. The control panels sparked and several rivets popped overhead. She curled into the fetal position as loose items were thrown all about. A solid thud had her rolling across the floor, trying to brace herself against the walls.

  "Landing complete," the computer said.

  Sara waited a moment to let the chairs stop rolling before she stood. Another curse escaped her as she took in the damage. Black scorch marks pocked the controls, and more than one lever looked like it had melted into place. So, the controls were fried and, no doubt, the thrusters were shot after that. At least she was in one piece. She put a hand to her chest, her heart pounding, and let out a shaky laugh.

  "Shall I give you a damage assessment?" the computer asked.

  "Nah, not right now. What's around here? I want to make sure I haven't dropped into Munchkin land and squashed their mayor. Or the Wicked Witch of the West. I'm in no mood for quests..."

  There was a brief pause. "There appears to be a temporary encampment with vessels faster than the speed of light nearby. Would you like a map?"

  Sara shook her head. "They'll find me. I'd like to stay safe inside here until I know whether they're friendly or not."

  The computer didn't respond to that. Not that that was surprising. These older models were programmed to be functional, not friendly. The new Soundbolts had a computer that would congratulate you on your singing skills, but this rust bucket interacted at the bare minimum. It made for a very arduous journey between the stars.

  It was all she could afford on her salary, though, and there was no way in Satan's menstrual cramps that she was staying on the Corps base she was assigned to. The space station orbited a backwater moon and she needed some excitement. That was why she had taken off to the aptly-named Planet Adventure, which was basically Disneyland, only a gazillion times bigger. Sara had blown all her savings on the two-week stay. She had thought it was worth it until her engine cut out over this planet.

  "Hey, where are we, anyway?"

  "Rozaist, Hockorn system."

  Rozaist? Sara shook her head. This was a planet where the religious crazies went. Not that she had anything against believers, but mass hordes of rioters demanding opposite-species relationships be made illegal set her teeth on edge. Rozaist wasn't part of the United Species, though, and as such was fair game to anybody who wanted a piece of it. The Corps was occasionally called to settle squabbles here, but they didn't technically have any jurisdiction. More often than not, it was one warlord or another who offered the planet 'protection' and implemented their own sort of justice. Hopefully, her position in the Corps would give her some protection against the locals.

  That thought flew out the window when the lights went out. The displays shut down and Sara found herself in utter silence. Even the usual hum of air circulation had stopped. She sat, bewildered, for a moment, but the answer came to her quickly.

  Pirates.

  With a curse, she drew her issued blaster gun and turned on the built-in light that she insisted on adding, despite her colleagues' scoffs. It was an old habit, leftover from her days back on Earth, before she ended up out here.

  Don't think about that, Sara told herself harshly. Earth is gone.

  She found herself a defensible position and hunkered down, adjusting her bionic eyes to register heat signatures. Five of them lurked just outside the ship. There was a wheezing noise, the sound of air being released. Too late Sara realized that the air vents were active again, pumping in a gas of some sort. Her head swam, bright lights flashing across her vision, and she slumped to the floor.

  Don't let them find out I'm human.

  ***

  Light stabbed into her eyes when she woke, but the bionics adjusted so quickly that Sara only had a brief moment of discomfort. The first thing she noticed was that she was still wearing her uniform. Good. Then she hadn't been taken by slavers to be auctioned off at the market. If she had been, they would have either stripped her bare or put her in provocative clothing.

  Her curvy, muscular build and thick waist were considered beautiful for women out here, despite the ideal for men being stick-thin. If she wanted to, she could have been a model or actress – any number of things. But she was a military girl. It was all she knew in her life before coming to the stars and all she wanted now.

  The lieutenant glanced around, taking in her surroundings. She was in a cage with bars made of flickering blue energy, separating her from an office of sorts. Shelves filled with trinkets that ranged from glowing stones to taxidermy animals ringed the space. The walls were covered in a chevron pattern.

  There was a huge purple desk to one side of the room, behind which sat an alien. His skin was the sickly color of foam at the bottom of a polluted waterfall. When she stirred, he looked up. His extra-wide mouth smiled, all three of his eyes crinkling at the sides. A Trioeil. Yuck. These slimy creatures considered themselves sentient beings and every other species in the galaxy as their rightful slaves.

  "Ah, good," the Trioeil said, the translation chip embedded behind Sara's ear twinging as it adjusted to his language. "Our Goddess is awake."

  Sara drew herself up as best as she could in the minimal space and glared at the Trioeil. "I am Lieutenant Sara O'Neill of the United Species Corps. What you are doing—"

  "The Corps has no jurisdiction here, m'lady," the alien said, waddling around his desk on flat feet. He was oddly bulky for a Trioeil. Usually, they resembled bobble-heads: oversized heads on a broomstick bottle. This one, though, looked like he could hold his own in an arm-wrestling match. "But forgive me, m'lady, as I'm sure we are most fortunate to meet you. I can see by your beautiful blue skin and golden eyes that you are Aphrosian. A beautiful specimen to be the Goddess for the Fifth Cycle Festival."

  Sara's stomach dropped. Since she had woken up in a ship hundreds of thousands of years after her abduction from Earth, she had learned that the galaxy was a brutal place. Technological development did not guarantee social development.

  "The Goddess," she whispered, feeling like she was about to be sick.

  The Fifth Cycle Festival was an ancient tradition among several cultures. In it, a woman was chosen to play the Goddess, bound to fleshy form, and men would hold a competition, killing each other until only one remained. He became the God and the Goddess was his to do with what he wanted. The Festival had been banned by the United Species years ago, as it was common practice for the 'Goddess' to be killed and eaten by the 'God'.

  Bile rose up the back of her throat, but Sara refused to panic. She was a trained soldier. She knew how to defend herself from one man if it came to that. Besides, she had more immediate concerns.

  If the Trioeil ran any deep scans on her, he would learn very quickly that she wasn't Aphrosian at all. The full-skin, deep blue tattoo she had and the golden shade of her bionic eyes was enough to fool most people, but the truth
was in her DNA. She was human, a rare and pricy commodity.

  All the species that Sara knew about were the distant descendants of humans. For the past forty-five standard years–or thirty years, according to Earth time–humans had been popping up all over the place in light-speed ships, preserved by stasis pods and the temporal distortion that happened when a ship travelled at light speed. Most of these humans were now in private collections or being dissected by research companies. Few found a peaceful welcome.

  "We have a good crop of men wishing to be the God this year," the Trioeil told her gleefully. "It will be good sport to watch."

  "I'm not of that faith," Sara said, trying to keep her voice calm. "But I am a member of the Corps. If you don't let me go, you’ll have to deal with the whole force of the United Species."

  The Trioeil made a motion with his hands equivalent to a shrug. "I'll be gone before they get here. I'm just here to collect the donations for the Church and officiate the Festival. Now, do try to smile. The Goddess should be happy."

  There had to be a way out of this. Sara sucked in a deep breath, trying to quell the panic beating at her chest. It would be useless to try to break out of the cage. It would only hurt her so much that she couldn't fight even if she did manage to free herself.

  Fight.

  Sara rubbed her arms, thinking over everything she knew about the Fifth Cycle. The man who won was supposedly favored by the Goddess, and that's why he won. But if the female chosen to be the Goddess didn't approve of the man, then she could challenge him herself.

  So that was it. Sara let out her breath. It was a desperate, last-ditch plan, but it was at least a plan. She needed to find a way out of here before the Festival started. But if worst came to worst, she would challenge the winner to a duel. No doubt he would be a huge, muscle-bound brute that she wouldn't stand a chance against. But if he were exhausted from fighting…

  It was worth the chance, wasn't it?