Yahn: Paranormal Sci-Fi Alien Romance (Alien Mates Book 4)

by Ashley L. Hunt

  I got to my feet and turned around to look at him. Were it anyone else, I would have continued with the preliminary cleaning of the sabrecat, but I had great respect for Ca-es’a and demonstrated it.

  “I was finished,” I said. “What happened?”

  “We just received word that the Tribal Elders have called for an emergency Forum. I was sent to fetch you at once.” He stood stiff and straight-backed as he spoke. I normally would have given him permission to relax, but the news of the Forum had me distracted.

  “Thanks, Ca-es’a,” I said. He nodded once in acknowledgment, and I motioned to the fallen cat. “Take this back to the village. Have it cleaned and gutted, but make sure the sabres are kept for me.”

  “Yes, Wise One,” Ca-es’a replied. Before the last syllable fell from his lips, however, I had already departed.

  The Forum was held inside the gates of P’otes-tat Ulti, which marked the single point where all eleven Kingdoms of Albaterra met. To reach P’otes-tat Ulti on foot was a sixteen-day journey from my village, and flying was still nearly two days away. Tribe Elders, however, were granted the power to travel with the winds, a ritual in which our souls gripped the aether of Albaterra, and it moved us through space and time. It was no harder to do than blinking, but it was a sacred practice and one never to be abused.

  Moments later, I stood outside of the intricate gates of P’otes-tat Ulti. A breeze brushed across my cheek, and I saw another Elder beside me.

  “Rex,” he said acknowledging my presence with a nod of greeting.

  “Nice to see you, Duke,” I replied. “Do you know what this is about?”

  “No idea.” He stepped forward to the gates, and then his body passed through the thick bars as though they weren’t there at all. I followed suit and kept pace with him as we walked to the massive doors that would admit us to P’otes-tat Ulti.

  The doors were exquisite in their perfection and intimidating in their guard. Upon their appointment, all tribe Elders were told of P’otes-tat Ulti’s secrets, starting with the doors. They were constructed of each kingdom’s finest and strongest materials. I could see hicorn horns and the teeth of sabrecats in their eye-bending designs, meshed amongst the sparkling purple aspex minerals of the mountainous Montemba Kingdom and the Altisuam wood from the Truncata rainforests. Duke pressed his fingertips to a section of aspex just as the doors opened and granted us entry.

  As usual for the Forum, the chamber was dimly lit by firelight and smelled of Albaterran musk. Duke and I were the last to arrive, but the room was silent despite the other nine Elders’ presence. We took our seats—mine to the left of Duke—and waited for the Forum to begin.

  Vi’den, the Elder for the Kingdom of rolling hills known as Finiba, stood. He was a very tall, very thin A’li-uud of great age and renowned wisdom. In his calm, clear voice, he said, “we shall take presence. Elder Vi’den Et’Solum Fini’tribus of Finiba.”

  The others around the circle of firelight stood one-by-one, just as Vi’den had, and announced their names and kingdoms.

  When it was Duke’s turn, he got to his feet and said loudly, “Elder Du’ciact Et’Petrum Montem’tribus of Montemba.”

  I allowed the proper moment of silence to pass before mirroring the action. I rose from my seat, looking through the smoke rising from the fire, and spoke. “Elder Rexstrenu’us Et’Herba Cam-pes’tribus of Campestria.”

  “Forum shall commence,” Vi’den announced.

  We all took our seats again, save for Vi’den, who started to explain the topic of the Forum.

  “It has come to our attention that our galaxy has been penetrated. At least four human ships have breached the borders of Andromeda, and one, in particular, is very near to Albaterra.” Suddenly, there were several sounds of fury and unhappy surprise at this news, but I remained quiet to find out what we already knew about this. “The course of action is at the discretion of the Tribe Elders.”

  “Blast’em all!” Shouted the burly Elder of the cave Kingdom.

  “Take them hostage!” Another one said.

  “Detonate Earth!” Another one shouted.

  The outcries of rage layered over one another until the chamber was filled with the din of angry voices. I looked at Duke, and he, too, looked irate.

  “What do you think?” I asked, my voice low.

  “I don’t know,” he muttered sourly, “but they certainly need to be stopped.”

  I nodded in quiet agreement. Vi’den waved a commanding hand through the air to silence the yelling Elders.

  “We will discuss this peacefully and rationally,” he said, his tone firm. “This is not a matter to be handled with rash impulse.”

  “Peace be cursed!” Barked back the cave Elder. He slammed his fist on the arm of his chair. “They’re pests, the lot of them. Exterminate them now before they infest Albaterra.”

  “I agree,” I said suddenly. All eyes turned to me. Some of the Elders seemed surprised by my input, but the expression on some of the others’ faces made it clear they didn’t care to hear my opinion. I was used to such a response; my young age tended to impair my credibility, as far as some of the Elders were concerned. “We can’t wait for the A’li-uud race to be at risk, or, worse, injured, before we take action.”

  There was a smattering of agreement, and Duke gave me one hearty nod of approval.

  “We need to find out what they want,” said Ma’ris, Elder of Albaterra’s only underwater Kingdom. His voice was garbled and gravelly, almost as though he spoke with bubbles in his mouth. I had to strain to understand what he was saying. “We need to question them.”

  “As honorable as I find your amicable intentions, Ma’ris, humans are not known for their honesty,” Vi’den replied.

  “There are ways of making them talk,” Duke snarled with surprising viciousness. The cave Elder grunted his agreement.

  “They don’t know about us, though,” I interjected. “What is the great danger?”

  The response I received was as if I had suggested we turn Albaterra over to the humans immediately. Everyone began talking, some yelling, and a few Elders jumped to their feet. Duke stared at me with a visceral expression of disbelief and disgust.

  “You don’t know what you’re saying, boy,” Ma’ris rumbled.

  “Traitor,” spat the cave Elder.

  “Quiet,” Vi’den intoned loudly. The chamber fell silent again, but I could still feel glaring eyes on me. He looked around as he spoke. “Rex is new to Elderhood and speaks out of ignorance. If he is to learn, then we need to teach him.”

  “With all due respect, Vi’den,” I interrupted, “I’m very comfortable in my Elderhood. My point was that we have an advantage. Humans are self-destructive by nature. Blend that with their utter lack of knowledge about the existence of A’li-uud, and there is nothing to fear.”

  “You’re naive,” the cave Elder growled.

  “And you’re bloodthirsty,” I shot back.

  He grinned toothily at me. “I say we put a hole through their planet and call it a day.”

  “You’re willing to kill an entire species of intelligent beings to prevent an undetermined level of risk to our people?” I asked, appalled.

  He leaned forward in his chair and stared directly into my eyes. “You’re not?”

  I said nothing. Soundless tension expanded within the confines of the chamber, prompting Vi’den to speak.

  “Let us address this in pieces,” he said. “First, and most importantly, the ships in the galaxy. Andromeda has already been compromised, but a ship is making its way to Albaterra at an alarming speed. We need to come to a decision about this now.”

  “They need to be destroyed,” Duke said. He turned to look at me. “Even you can’t disagree with the level of risk those ships pose.”

  I sighed and shook my head. “No, I can’t.”

  “Anyone else?” Vi’den asked, looking around the circle of Elders. Heads shook, and Vi’den nodded once. “So be it. All human ships inside the bord
ers of the Andromeda galaxy will be eliminated, beginning with the ship closest to Albaterra.”

  “So it shall be,” everyone said in unison.

  “Now we must decide on what to do regarding the general human population,” Vi’den continued. “Perhaps there is no decision to be made. Perhaps there is a dreadful one to be made. Let us open the floor.”

  “I’ve said my piece,” the cave Elder said loudly.

  Ma’ris looked sagely to Vi’den. “I believe they should be questioned. We do not know if they have any information about us. Our spies know only what they learn through the masses. It stands to reason they could know just as much about us as we do them.”

  “What reason?” Duke asked. “Humans are about as smart as hicorns.”

  “They are intelligent beings,” Vi’den said wisely. “They are capable of growth and expansion both as individuals and a species. That, Duke, is to be acknowledged and respected.”

  “And feared,” Ma’ris added.

  “It seems,” Vi’den went on, “that we have two very different opinions to consider. Are there any others someone would like to add?”

  He looked around again as everyone shook their heads one more time.

  “Very well. We shall vote then. Those in favor of destroying Earth and the extinction of the human race?”

  The cave Elder shot his hand in the air with such vehemence he almost toppled off his chair. Several other hands, including Duke’s, joined his. I tried to count how many there were, but the hands were retracted before I could see through the smoke properly.

  “Those in favor of journeying to Earth to question the humans?”

  I raised my hand, as did Ma’ris and Vi’den himself. Again, I tried to count how many hands were in the air, but the smoke was too thick to see through to the other side of the circle.

  “It has been ruled, then. After eliminating all intruding ships in Andromeda, A’li-uud shall be sent to Earth to question human officials.” The cave Elder pounded his chair again, but Vi’den ignored him and continued to speak. “We will meet again in two days to begin devising our plan.”

  He dismissed us, and everyone clambered to their feet. Being the nearest to the door, I exited first with Duke following close behind me. We stood aside to allow the others to pass so we could talk.

  “That was interesting,” I said when we were finally alone.

  “My biggest concern is the ships,” he said, looking up at the sky. “We don’t know what their intentions are or what kind of weapons they have onboard.”

  “No, we don’t,” I murmured, following his gaze upward. The sky was clear, disturbed only by the pale purple flourishes of daytime. I shook my head. “Well, we—”

  My words dropped into nothingness as I looked back down and realized Duke had already gone. I was alone.

  Chapter Two

  Tabitha

  The Finding

  “Do you ever wonder if it’s all pointless?”

  I looked over at Leanne. She was reclining on her bed, hands clasped together across her chest and a faraway expression on her face.

  “What’s all pointless?” I asked.

  “This mission,” she answered, but she didn’t look at me as she spoke. “Do you ever wonder whether there’s anything to find? Like, what if we were sent out here for no reason?”

  “You mean intentionally?”

  “Not necessarily,” she said, finally turning to face me. “Although that’s a possibility as well.”

  I shrugged. “Not really. We would be pretty naïve to think we are the only creatures in the universe.”

  “It’s never even crossed your mind?” She probed.

  “I guess it has once or twice,” I admitted. “I just don’t dwell on it.”

  She sighed and resumed staring at the ceiling. “You’re such an optimist, Tabitha.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m just realistic.”

  Leanne smiled with veiled amusement, and then said idly, “I’m so hungry.”

  I glanced at my watch and got to my feet. “Speaking of that, I should get to the kitchen.”

  “Don’t you ever get tired of serving people?” She asked, also getting to her feet. She moved to the mirror to pluck her stray hairs into place.

  “No more than you get of taking their measurements,” I replied with a snarky grin.

  Leanne turned around to face me, with her hands on her hips. She was the seamstress aboard the Paragon, and it showed. Even on a spaceship hurdling through an unknown galaxy at impossible speed, Leanne was the very image of fashion. She was the only crew member who insisted on wearing Armani and Chanel when she wasn’t in uniform.

  “When are you going to let me make you that dress?” She demanded.

  I rolled my eyes. “What do I need a dress for? The Paragon prom?”

  “You’re so frustrating.” She walked over to me and smoothed the hem of my shirt down. “You’d be a total knockout. You have such a nice shape, not like those stick-figure supermodels I was making clothes for in Milan.”

  I batted her hands away and said, “aren’t supermodels supposed to be the measuring stick for beauty?”

  “Please,” she scoffed. “You know why supermodels have to be so skinny? It’s because a body with no shape allows the designer to create whatever shape they want out of the garment. It’s a blank canvas. You’re not a blank canvas. You’re a masterpiece.”

  I couldn’t help but blush a little. I was by no means self-conscious about my appearance, despite being aware of having a few extra pounds. I received plenty of attention from men, but Leanne’s compliments were so genuine and heartfelt that I felt embarrassingly adored.

  We exchanged goodbyes, and I headed for the kitchen. I had been hired on the Paragon crew as the chef when I had unknowingly served my perfected Beef Wellington to a NASA recruiter. Space travel had never been on my bucket list, but the prospect of literally getting off the planet had been extraordinarily appealing at the time. I had accepted the offer without much thought. Leanne and I had met during orientation when she’d eyed my blouse and insisted on—in her words—bringing me out of the past and into the present.

  I continued thinking about my conversation with Leanne as I prepared tonight’s dinner - Salisbury steak. I hadn’t been entirely truthful with her; it had crossed my mind more than once that we would return to Earth with nothing to show for our time in space. It just wasn’t as big of concern for me as it appeared to be for her. My decision to join the Paragon crew had much less to do with being a part of something huge. Instead, it had almost everything to do with escaping my past.

  Even as I sautéed the massive pan of green beans, I could still see his face in my mind, bloodied and blank. His lips were parted as if he was about to speak, and he stared at me so intently I wasn’t able to look away. His fingers were wrapped around my wrist so tightly I could feel my veins pulsing in an effort to circulate through my hand. I hadn’t realized I was screaming until I choked on my own voice.

  It had all started in college. His name was Patrick and was the ultimate all-American guy. He was a football player, part of a fraternity, and he was majoring in Business Management. He came from money, which I’d realized the first time I’d seen him driving his Porsche. He’d been the kind of handsome that physically stopped women in their tracks. I wasn’t immune to his structured jawline, the aristocratic nose, and the suggestive blue eyes. His charm and wit had only served to draw me under until I was drowning with heart-wrenching, gut-rolling, mind-numbing love for him.

  Like all things, it had been good for a while. I’d go so far as to say it had been amazing. It had been thrilling for me to be chosen by such a man, not because I didn’t have self-confidence but because I’d idolized him so desperately. Little had I known. Patrick was drinking in my adoration and reciprocating with a poisonous cocktail of shameless devotion and unyielding dominance.

  He’d done his job well. The first time he laid a hand on me, I didn’t even question it.

&
nbsp; Two years and countless bruises later, I was finally free of him.

  I shook my head violently, trying to shake the images off my brain, and turned my focus to the food. Cooking was the one thing in the entire world—no, the entire universe—that kept me sane. It was cathartic, therapeutic in its methods and manipulations. It gave me the creative freedom to explore different flavor combinations and plate arrangements, but it was also regimented in its instruction and execution. I felt balanced when I cooked.

  Of course, it was just a bonus to hear how wonderful my food was.

  As usual, I served dinner to the crew instead of eating with them, despite having a sous chef and a handful of kitchen staff. I plated each meal myself and handed it off with a smile. While the Paragon was a huge ship, the crew itself was small: ninety-seven people. In truth, I didn’t know everyone, but I’d learned everybody’s name and learned the rest from Leanne. She was an unabashed gossip. Having her on board was like having an outer space edition of TMZ.

  “Hey, beautiful.”

  Trey Jones stepped up in front of me and winked. I had to restrain myself from rolling my eyes. He was a mechanic onboard who was persistently trying to date me—or sleep with me, most likely. I had turned him down at least six times already. He was actually rather attractive with his sandy blonde hair and well-toned form, but his overt and explicit personality repulsed me.

  “Hello, Trey,” I said, trying to inject as much ice into my tone as I could.

  “What has the chef prepared for me tonight?” He asked, looking at the food hungrily. I silently wished it was the only thing he would look at hungrily.

  “Salisbury steak,” I said. Pointedly, I added, “It’s Walt Clark’s favorite.”

  Trey turned to look around the dining hall for Walt, who was several tables away. His mouth was full of steak, and each of his hands was holding a hunk of bread. He was a portly guy with exceptional knowledge of computers. I didn’t consider myself friends with Walt, but I found him a very nice guy; I felt a little bad for using him to dig at Trey.