by Lexa Lumos
For a moment she understood how desperate they must be. How much they needed human women. But then she hardened. She’d been used enough by men in her life. Some damn alien race didn’t get to do it, too. “Well, I’m sorry for you and all, but that doesn’t give you the right to kidnap us and force us to be your broodmares.”
“Anya—”
“No!” She stood up so fast, her chair toppled backward with a crash, and the remains of her drink tipped over to spill across the table and drip on the floor. “It’s never going to happen. I would rather die.”
Chapter 6
Taryk watched in horror as Anya stormed away from Erys. He started to go after her, but someone grabbed his arm. He whirled to find Fen standing behind him.
“Give her time, brother. It’s a lot to take in.” Fen’s tone was soothing, but Taryk was in no mood to be soothed.
“She needs to understand. She needs to realize—”
“What?” Fen cocked a brow. “That we’ve stolen her from her homeworld? Her family? Everything she knows? That her destiny is to restart our civilization? That’s a lot to put on a person who didn’t even know aliens existed until yesterday. Besides, if Erys can’t get her to understand, you sure as hell won’t be able to.”
Taryk huffed out a breath. It was true. Erys was the kindest, gentlest of them. The most caring and sympathetic. If she didn’t respond to him, what the hell hope did Taryk have of winning her? Gentleness was not his forte.
He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes still on Anya, who huddled with a group of women, whispering among themselves. Every now and then, one of them cast a glance at him, eyes wide. He hoped it wasn’t fear, but he thought it might be. He wasn’t sure how to make himself appear less formidable. All-Mother save him, they must hate him by now.
“What do we do?” He couldn’t help the bleakness that crept into his voice.
“Give her time,” Fen said, squeezing his shoulder. “Let her get to know us. She will come around.”
He sounded so sure. But then, that was Fen. He could see things, connections, the rest of them couldn’t. That was why he was so good at plotting and planning things.
“Maybe we should tell her the whole truth,” Taryk muttered.
“Hell, no,” Erys said, joining them. “She will lose her shiata. They all will. Can you imagine how you’d feel if you found out our government sold you to an alien species?”
“Our government would never do such a thing,” Taryk scoffed.
“No, but theirs did.” Erys nodded at the women, who were now blatantly staring, their expressions a mix of curiosity and hostility, with a little arousal thrown in. “Can you imagine the betrayal?”
It was difficult for Taryk to imagine; he wasn’t exactly the imaginative type, but he guessed it would be pretty awful. He heaved a sigh. “I don’t know how long we can wait.” Already the bond was trying to form, itching at him like a scratch beneath his scales.
“Hey.” Fen clapped him on the shoulder. “We’ve waited this long. What’s a few more days?”
Taryk pressed his lips into a grim line. Since the moment he’d seen Anya, the mating instinct had kicked in hard, and it hadn’t quit. It throbbed inside him, stirring his dragon, making him edgy. And it was only getting worse. He’d read about this. He’d never seen it though. He’d been a kid when the last woman on Kiyria died. Without women, the mating instinct never hit.
It sure as hell was in full force now. He growled low.
“Shut up,” Erys said. “You’re making them nervous.”
The women had gone silent, their frightened faces staring at him like he was some sort of monster.
“Good. Maybe they should be.” He turned and stomped out.
ANYA WATCHED THE ONE called Taryk stomp from the room. He didn’t like her rejection? Too bad. But part of her, something deep inside, fluttered, wishing he hadn’t left. Wishing he’d... what? Stormed over and demanded something?
She was a modern woman, who didn’t give in to her hormones. She’d done that once and look where it had gotten her. Betrayed by a husband she’d thought loved her. Ha! Love was a farce.
She almost let out a cackle of laughter. Even she couldn’t blame her ex-husband for this.
Well, maybe she could. If it hadn’t been for him being an utter asshole, she’d never have moved to Oregon. If she’d never moved to Oregon, she’d never have been abducted by aliens. Aliens.
Oh, god, they were real. Everything her crazy group members had claimed was probably true. She leaned forward and whispered, “Are these the guys who abducted you?”
Brea glanced at the two aliens still hovering near the doorway. “I think so. I mean, not them specifically, but ones like them.” She shivered, but for once she didn’t seem afraid. Her eyes were bright with interest.
Anya ruthlessly shoved down a pang of jealousy. She had no reason to be jealous. These men meant nothing to her. Still, she couldn’t help eyeing them.
Erys and the other one weren’t quite as big as Taryk, but they were still well over six feet, with muscles that went on forever, and they were handsome as sin. She felt a stirring in her libido. For the first time in a long while, she felt the urge to rip a man’s clothes off. Two men, actually. Three, if she counted Taryk.
Whoa.
What the hell was the matter with her? These dudes had kidnapped her, for fuck’s sake. Stolen her from her home. Not okay.
Brea was saying. “... and we get three husbands.”
Anya blinked. “Excuse me? What was that?”
Jane slid a sideways glance at the two men by the door. “Aren’t you listening? These aliens are looking for brides.” She snorted. “Though why they’d want a dried-up old fuddy-duddy like me, lord knows.”
Brea laid a hand on Jane’s arm and gave her a sweet look. “You are no fuddy-duddy, Jane. You are sharp but kind. And have you looked in the mirror lately? You’re not old at all. You are very attractive.”
Jane patted Brea’s hand. “Aren’t you sweet. Those damn rejuvenation pods may have worked wonders, but I’m still old on the inside.” She tapped her head. “Where it counts.”
Brea glanced at Erys and Fen. “They’re awfully handsome for aliens. I wouldn’t mind.” For once she wasn’t twisting her fingers nervously but stroking the tabletop as if she imagined herself stroking their skin. Anya barely held back a growl.
“Neither would I,” said Carla contentedly. She was munching on weird little green orbs about the size of wasabi peas.
“Ladies!” Anya was aghast. “Surely you don’t mean that? They kidnapped us! And now they’re forcing us to... to breed for them? I don’t think so.”
“What do you propose we do?” Jane asked seriously.
Anya knew she could count on the older woman, although Jane no longer looked older than Anya. She appeared as she must have looked thirty years ago: skin unlined, hair a smooth, chestnut brown, eyes bright. She didn’t seem to need her readers either. “I don’t know, but I do know we’ve got to get off this ship.”
“How?” Brea’s voice wobbled. “From what Erys said, it sounds like we’re not that far from Earth. Now’s our chance, before the ship leaves the solar system. They probably have escape pods or something, right? We find them and then we fly home.”
Carla snorted. “You know how to fly an alien spaceship? ’Cause I don’t.”
“I do.”
They all turned to stare at Jane.
“I know how to fly aircraft. I’m Air Force, retired.”
Anya hadn’t known that. “Aircraft probably aren’t the same.”
Jane shrugged. “Principles are. I like machines. I get them. Bet it won’t be that hard to figure out. Flying is flying, more or less.”
Such a laissez-faire attitude gave Anya stomach cramps, but there was no other choice. They had to get out of here, even if everything inside her fought against it. Maybe especially because her insides protested it. She had to leave before she lost her damn mind.
“All
right, then, any ideas on how to get past our guards?”
“Oh, that’s easy,” Brea said. “They’re very nice, at least the ones I ended up with are.”
Anya’s eyes widened. “They’ve already handed you off to your... whatever they are?”
“Husbands,” Brea said contentedly. “Or near enough. Technically they aren’t yet, but they assured me they would be.”
“You seem awfully calm about that,” Jane grated.
Brea shrugged. “I’m mostly relieved I wasn’t losing my mind. And honestly, they’re hot.”
Carla snorted. “I got no interest in getting married again. Betino was a grade-A asshole. The day he died was a blessing.” She crossed herself and muttered something in Spanish. “I got no intention of getting married again.”
“Not much interested in it myself,” Jane agreed. “Been alone too long. Set in my ways.” But there was something in her expression that belied her words.
Anya nodded as if in agreement, but she knew she was lying, just like Jane. She did want to find love again. Get married maybe, hopefully to someone who was less of a jerk than her ex. Someone who actually appreciated her. What she didn’t want was to be hauled off into space and handed over to some alien dude. Or dudes.
So far the aliens she’d met hadn’t been that bad. They were, as Brea pointed out, hot. They’d been kind. They hadn’t hurt her or the others. Maybe....
No. They’d taken her and the other women against their will. They were forcing them into marriage. It was no better than the patriarchy back on Earth, and at least there they had chocolate and a life, such as it was.
She was going back to Earth. She wasn’t falling for a charming alien or three.
Leaning forward, she sketched out a plan. They were going to escape this place if it was the last thing she did.
Chapter 7
Fen matched his stride to that of the woman, Anya, as he ushered her back to her pod. It was difficult, as she was quite a bit shorter. It was also difficult not to stare at her. She may be destined as their mate, but she didn’t know or accept that yet. Staring at her would not go well.
He had vague memories of women from before Day Black—how the Kiyrians referred to the day the Krull released their bio-weapon—but they were faint. Almost like dreams now. He’d been very young, and the ensuing trauma had damaged his earliest memories. There were still flutters now and then: a soft voice, warm touch, the scent of villia flowers. But mostly all he remembered was his warrior training.
All Kiyrian males these days were trained as warriors. It wasn’t like the old days, where some trained to be artisans and others viziers—priests and advisors—or vedics— medical personnel. Artists were a thing of the past. Viziers, like him, only trained in the basics to administer their house’s wealth. Of all the non-warrior training, only vedics were truly useful.
The older Kiyrians had mourned the death of the old ways, while the younger ones had struggled to get by and find their place in this new world, a world that was dying. A world with no future. No hope.
But now....
“What’s your name?” Anya suddenly broke the silence. It wasn’t a soft voice, like the one in his memory. It was strong and rich, and it made him feel warm under the collar.
“I am Fen, Vizier Taul.”
She frowned but she didn’t appear upset. “Is Vizier a title?”
“Aye. You would, perhaps, call me a priest.”
She stared at him, wide-eyed. “You’re a freaking priest? Like, you’re celibate? But I thought....” She was obviously going to say more, but she shut up.
His translator gave him the meaning of celibate. He almost laughed. “Viziers are not celibate.” He struggled a little over the strange word. English in general was fairly easy, but they had some odd turns of phrase. “They are... spiritual, financial, and emotional guides. They offer counsel to their triad, especially to the lord. In my case, Taryk. When there were still women on our world, viziers were not celibate in the slightest.”
She seemed baffled by the concept. “Taryk said he’s Lord Taul. Is that your last name?”
He struggled to understand and finally admitted, “I am unsure what a last name is.”
“Oh, surname. Uh, family name. On Earth, families usually share a last name. So I’m Anya Vedis. My father was Mikhail Vedis. My mother, Patricia Vedis. If I’d had brothers or sisters, their names would have been Vedis as well.”
“Ah, yes. I suppose it is similar. However, a designation is determined by our triad.”
“That Erys guy mentioned that. Triad. What is that?” She gave him a sideways look.
“I do not think you have anything similar on Earth, so I find it difficult to explain.” At least not in a way that wouldn’t upset her. So far the women of Earth hadn’t reacted particularly well to the concept.
“Try me.”
“It is how we function. A triad comprised of a leader, a guide, and someone with medical training.”
She gave him a look. “I think there’s more to it than that.”
He gave her a small smile. “Perhaps later I will explain more. I am required elsewhere, and you need to rest.” They’d reached the door of her pod.
“No, I don’t. I’ve been out half the day, or at least it feels like it. No windows.”
He struggled to maintain his placid exterior as humor sparked. “Rejuvenation takes a great deal of energy. You need to replenish. Sleep if you can. You know where the dining pod is should you require sustenance.”
He turned and strode quickly away. He wasn’t running from her. No. That would be unseemly. He was a vizier, and viziers were never unseemly. He simply had somewhere to be. Somewhere away from a pair of hazel eyes that were far too curious and a pair of lips that made him wish for things he’d never dreamed could be his.
ANYA SCOWLED AT THE door that slid shut behind Fen. Once again, she was caught in a big, pink bubble. That was how she thought of her room. Really, pink? She’d have thought it was sexism if not for the fact that all the walls of this entire damn spaceship were pink. Why? She vaguely remembered reading a research study claiming that pale pink was soothing for humans. Were Kiyrians the same?
What the absolute fuck were Kiyrians anyway? They looked human, except for those weird golden eyes and teeth that were a little on the sharp side. Not to mention their skin was, well, it wasn’t gold exactly, but it was certainly leaning that way, and a color found nowhere on Earth.
Not exactly the little green men she’d pictured. Brea’s insistence on the hotness of her alien abductors made a lot more sense now. Obviously they had been abducting women for a while. Probably to make sure they were compatible. She hoped that was the only reason.
She shivered when she remembered the first time she’d woken up in what Jane called the rejuvenation chamber. All three of the Taul men had been standing around, staring at her. It was a little fuzzy—drugs, no doubt—but she recalled how they’d looked at her. She’d been pissed as hell, but she hadn’t felt unsafe. There’d been hunger there, for sure, but also something strange. Something she’d never experienced from human men. It was almost as if... it was almost as if they worshipped her. As if, at least in that particular moment, she was the most important thing in the world to them. Which, she supposed, made a strange sort of sense, seeing as how all their women were dead.
She was a replacement. Except they hadn’t looked at her like she was second choice. They’d looked at her like they wanted her.
Anya had never experienced that from a man before. A man—or men, in this case—wanting her just for her. Her father had wanted a boy. When he hadn’t gotten one, he tried to turn her into a tomboy. It hadn’t worked. By the time she was in her teens, he wasn’t interested. Her husband had wanted her to support him through business school, then use her contacts to get himself a plush position at a Fortune 500 company. Once he’d gotten there, he’d dumped her for a younger, dumber woman with big, fake boobs and bottle blonde hair. It was so cliché, i
t was ridiculous.
And that wasn’t counting the numerous boyfriends, male coworkers, and various other acquaintances throughout her life who’d proven she wasn’t much more than an object to them. Someone who could give them something. Something to be thrown away once they got what they wanted. No one had ever, in her entire life, looked at her like she was important.
But they did. Those three aliens who’d kidnapped her. Who’d changed her.
Wait.
Change.
She remembered what Jane had said. “Damn, I wish I had a mirror.”
A section of the bulkhead shimmered from pink to a reflective surface, and she found herself staring at, well, herself. Only it wasn’t the self she’d seen in the mirror last night. She assumed it was last night.
This was the Anya of about twenty years ago, with a tight jawline, lush lips, and no crow’s feet around the eyes.
She quickly stripped off her clothes and inspected every inch of herself in the mirror. She’d been in fairly good shape at fifty, but her boobs had sagged a little, her butt hadn’t been quite as perky, her stomach pooched, and her elbows had started getting that old-lady wrinkled look. Even the backs of her hands had been a bit crepe-y, reminding her of her mother’s.
She was young again. Her skin was taut and smooth. Even the scar from her appendectomy was gone.
She turned this way and that, hardly able to believe what she was seeing. Her mother used to say youth was wasted on the young. Anya had never understood that until she hit her mid-forties. She’d sometimes secretly wished she could have her younger body back while keeping the wisdom of her five decades. Which was silly, of course. Totally impossible.
Until it wasn’t. Holy, fucking, shit.
“Holy. Frelling. Shiata.”
Taryk stood there, staring at her. She hadn’t even heard the door open. She let out a little squeak and froze, not sure what to do. If she bent down to get her clothes, he’d get an eyeful.
He seemed equally as frozen. Then he licked his lips.