She was silent for a moment. “Okay. Fair enough. That was pretty damn solid of you. Thanks for taking care of Esme.” She twisted around to straddle him, wrapped her fingers at the base of his horns, and pulled herself up to her knees.
Jaxar groaned. So good.
“That okay? I forgot to ask if you could feel anything with these.” She ran a finger along the slope of his horn. That touch he could not feel.
“The root is sensitive, but I welcome any touch from you.” Any. Anywhere.
“So, here?” Her fingers hooked behind and scratched.
His eyes rolled into the back of his head. “Yeees.”
An alarm chirped.
“Shove me out an airlock,” he cursed.
She planted a kiss on his chin and removed herself from his lap. “Hurry home tonight, cinnamon bun. I need to figure out what a person wears to a Sangrin wedding. Are we talking about an indoor or outdoor event?”
“There are too many unmated females on board. It is a problem.”
The warlord fixed Jaxar with his intense gaze. The message was clear. The warlord’s patience was at an end.
“Understood,” Jaxar said.
Chapter 19
Vanessa
The flight deck was a chaotic mess. The Judgment was too large to dock at the Sangrin Station and had to ferry over anyone wanting to do a bit of shopping, see the sights, or just not be on the ship and breathe a different variety of canned air for a few hours. So, basically, everyone. The Mahdfel males wouldn’t let their mates go unescorted, so everyone brought a plus one.
People moved on and off shuttles at an efficient pace and the scent of ozone and jet fuel lingered.
“Nervous? Do not worry. I am an excellent pilot,” the purple-skinned male said.
“I’m fine. Just waiting for Jaxar.” Vanessa stood outside the shuttle, clutching her satchel and trying not to think too hard about how serious it was that Jaxar was bringing her home to meet the family. This was a big deal.
She had done this before, meeting the alien in-laws, not that Havik’s family set any gold standard for welcoming newcomers into the family. Now that she had some time and distance, the whole situation with Havik’s family was toxic. For fuck’s sake, it took her three months to realize that the warlord was Havik’s father. That family was as noxious as the planet’s radioactive environment.
She found herself thinking more and more about her time with Havik and comparing it to her relationship with Jaxar. The flaws between them were obvious to her now, starting with how wildly unsuited she was to live on his home planet. The frosty in-laws just made family meals awkward. Whatever. Havik’s father and stepmother snubbing her did not hurt nearly as much as her own father bouncing out of her life, so she could have dealt with her in-laws’ attitude. Not that it mattered anymore.
But it was different with Jaxar.
Sleep had been impossible the night before and she had a bit of heartburn. It felt different with him, probably because they were taking it slow. A month of dating felt fast to her but knew it was agonizingly slow to a Mahdfel. Because he was so sincere in his affection? And patient and funny and sexy and she liked him. She really liked him. Even though she whispered she loved him when she was half-asleep, that truth had yet to sink in through her thick skull.
He was her friend; that was the crux of it. Van could count on one hand how many friends she had in her life and Jaxar muscled his way onto that list, kicking down the door to her heart like a big smiling purple maniac.
A sappy grin spread across her face.
Damn. She loved him so much it made her feel weird inside.
Meeting the family would be great. It had to be. She’d charm the fuck out of them and make them love her.
“No. I don’t want to go.” A small, slender human woman planted her feet with a stomp. With her arms crossed, her body language was clear. She refused to be moved.
Van recognized the woman as one of the people rescued from the disabled vessel. She had been tinkering with the clothing fabricator—technically, she could have done that in the privacy of her own cabin, but Van wanted help picking a wedding outfit—when the warlord’s wife escorted in the six rescued women. The first bit of weirdness was the awful experience for the women, since they had all been abducted. The second was Van’s surprise that the warlord’s wife took the time to ferry the women around. Mercy had greeted Van when she arrived, sure, but Van assumed that was because she was an unmated novelty. Mercy’s hands-on approach contrasted so dramatically with the aloof behavior of Havik’s warlord and mate, who basically ignored Van’s existence.
The Judgment’s clan kept exceeding her expectations.
“I said no!” The woman easily slipped away from the warrior as he reached for her elbow.
“Female, you will be returned to your homeworld.” The Mahdfel, the same one who told her not to worry and humble bragged about his piloting skills, looked flustered. He was young, but gauging Mahdfel ages was difficult. They healed too rapidly for normal signs: wrinkles and sun damage spots on their skin.
The idea of the sun damaging the skin was so foreign that the first time Van got sunburn, Havik thought it was an adaptive camouflage to help her blend in with his people. He was delighted she turned red. When he found out it was a mild radiation burn due to sun exposure, he freaked out and forbade her ever venturing out into the enclosed courtyard ever again.
“Yeah, no. I don’t want to go back to Earth. Don’t you get it? Earth sucks.”
“Your family desires—”
A bitter laugh tore from the woman. “Those fuckers? They sold me. What don’t you get?”
“They requested your return.” The pilot looked confused and scratched the base of a horn. Van half-expected him to give a weak response like I’m just following orders. Instead, he surprised her by saying, “We cannot have unmated females onboard.”
The woman looked around the flight deck, searching for something; backup or a distraction, Van couldn’t tell. “What about her? She’s not anyone’s mate.”
How did she know that?
“She is promised to a warrior and will be mated soon,” the pilot said with authority, because apparently Jaxar had marked his territory and everyone knew about her.
“Oh, well then.” Even as the woman licked her lips and softened her posture, a calculating look flashed on her face. “You in the market for a mate? How about it?”
The young male made a strangled sort of noise, clearly distressed by being outmaneuvered by his challenger. The woman grinned in triumph and moved forward, swaying her hips with each step.
“Enough,” a cold voice said. A tall, broad male with one broken horn approached. Every Mahdfel warrior in the vicinity snapped to attention, telling Van that this had to be the warlord.
“You are to meet with the Sangrin authorities,” he said to the woman. His tone was brusque but not unkind. “They will process your identity chip. Where you go from there is your choice. They will assist you in relocating to Earth or elsewhere.”
“I’m going to stay,” she said.
“As you say.” The warlord gave a subtle nudge and the woman moved to board the shuttle. His eyes scanned the crowd, resting for a moment on Van before moving on.
Jaxar arrived, received a series of orders, and they were finally ready to leave. He buckled her into the safety harness because he was a total sweetheart, and said, “Do not be nervous.”
“I’m not nervous,” she replied instantly, lying through her teeth.
“Your heart rate is accelerated, and your breathing is shallow.”
“Maybe your breath stinks. You ever think about that?”
He grinned and then planted a sloppy kiss on her cheek. “I consumed a pickled fish and onion and garlic sandwich. It was delightfully pungent.”
“You’re such a liar.” She shoved his arm playfully, already laughing because his breath smelled like fresh strawberries and sunshine, no matter if he just woke up or ate an entire
barrel of pickled fish. He really liked mushing those little fish into a paste and spreading it on a cracker, though. Super gross. He claimed it was a Sangrin delicacy, but she thought he just liked the taste of vinegar and fish eyeballs.
Ugh. Her stomach flipped.
“Are you well? Do we need to return?” Jaxar unclipped his harness, ready to talk to the pilot.
“No, I’m fine. I’m not a good flyer.” This was only her third time in a small spacecraft, and she wanted to think about anything except how thin the walls of the shuttle were and only a few inches of metal separated her from the cold vacuum of space. Even thinking about pickled fisheyes was better than that. Did her fear make sense when she’d gazed out of the huge windows on the Judgment more times than she could count? Of course not. But the shuttle wasn’t the size of a city. More like a tin can.
The shuttle jolted as it departed the Judgment. Van tightened her grip on Jaxar’s hand. “Beats teleporting, though.”
His eyes, green and soft, narrowed. “Do not worry. My family will love you because I love you. There is no other option.”
Van looked around the shuttle but found the passengers all bent over their tablets or comm units. No one seemed interested in their hushed conversation.
“How can you say that so casually?” she whispered. No one had ever told her they loved her so often, so easily, like they were remarking on the weather. Okay, there wasn’t weather on a spaceship, but the point remained. Van remembered hugs and bedtime kisses from her mother, but casual affection ended there.
She liked it so much, this airiness like the sun shining after a storm, and wouldn’t go without it again. His family was going to love her. Like Jaxar said, there was no other option.
Jaxar
Vanessa’s stomach growled. “It’s nothing. I skipped breakfast,” she said.
“Hunger is not nothing. Your body requires proper nourishment.” He had noticed that her mood often improved with food. The fastest way to soothe a grumpy Vanessa was to fill her stomach, a burden he was happy to bear.
“I already told you I’m not the best flyer. If I eat, I’m likely to barf when we enter the atmosphere.”
“You are nervous to meet my family.”
She chewed on her bottom lip before answering. “A little, but it’s really about the reentry. I don’t like that moment of weightlessness where you’re just hanging there, waiting for gravity.” She gave a dramatic shudder.
He grumbled a response. She denied the cause of her nerves, but Jaxar knew better. He heard her heart hammering away in her chest. Any assurances he made would only escalate her anxious emotions, so he distracted her with one of the station’s many food stalls. The enticing aroma of steamed dough filled with sweet fruit greeted visitors when they exited the shuttles. Hopefully, a small morsel would settle her stomach.
“What is that? An alien hotdog?” Vanessa asked.
“You will enjoy this,” he said, flashing his credit chip to the vendor and selecting a bun for Vanessa.
“I can’t eat. I’ll barf that up,” she said, all the while looking at the bun with such longing in her velvety brown eyes.
“It will absorb the acid in your stomach and you will be more likely to retain your dignity when the shuttle enters the planet’s atmosphere.”
“Oh, well, since it’s about retaining my dignity,” she said in a dry tone before she bit into the bun.
Her eyes fluttered closed. The noise of the station fell away and they existed in their own bubble.
“Oh, wow,” she said, her mouth full. “What is this? It’s like strawberries but also a little like caramel?”
A bit of the filling clung to the corners of her mouth. He helpfully leaned for a kiss to remove the mess. He was a good boyfriend. Possibly the best ever.
“What’s the look for?” she asked, dabbing a paper cloth at her lips.
Nothing would ruin this day. Nothing.
Vanessa
The station was large and crowded. Van had been there a few times before, so the volume of people trying to get to their destinations was nothing new. It could have been any busy transit station on Earth, if it weren’t for all the purple-skinned horned people.
Despite the crowds, Van had the odd prickling sensation of being watched. She brushed it off. There were some humans in the station, but her tan skin stood out. Of course, the hulking Mahdfel at her side probably drew more attention than her humanity. Jaxar stood a head taller than Sangrin and the odd human alike.
Van had a short shopping list, which mainly consisted of picking up the outfit and undergarments she ordered the previous day. The Judgment had a fully functional fabricator that made anything from uniforms, armor, boots, shoes, undershirts, underwear, coveralls, and all the safety gear she wore on the job. A quick scan of the computer could generate a flawless garment tailored to her measurements in less than fifteen minutes. Amazing, considering the fabricators kept the entire clan, all the mates, and their growing families fully clothed.
The downside was that fabric selection was limited on board. Clothing came in two flavors: durable and uncomfortable, or a soft jersey knit. Van didn’t mind the durable fabric for her own work stuff and the soft jersey knit was perfect for loungewear and maybe even a casual dress, but she needed something better than a glorified T-shirt to wear when meeting Jaxar’s family.
She selected a design, had the computer take a scan, and would pick up the finished dress at the Sangrin Station. She also put in an order for strappy heels—again, limited materials—and the lacy underwear the fabricator could never produce. In no time at all, she had her bags forwarded to the address Jaxar provided and they took a second shuttle to the planet’s surface.
The shuttle and her stomach gave a lurch as it entered the planet’s atmosphere. Her grip on Jaxar’s hand tightened, but he only gave a small grunt and squeezed it back. It wasn’t as if she had the physical strength to hurt him. The sweet bun did help settle her stomach and he prattled on about his favorite foods and the best places to eat.
“There is a bun shop. They are purveyors of many delicacies but mostly they sell buns; one of their specialties is a bun filled with soup. It must be consumed carefully with a large spoon, but the moment the hot, salty broth floods your mouth is magical. Those sell out and if you crave it, you must go early or place an order the day before. We will go,” he said.
As soon as they cleared the clouds, Van was struck by the similarities and differences of the alien city compared to home. The planet was roughly the size of Earth, so gravity was not an issue, but the red sun cast a pinkish glow.
The spires of the city clustered together at the center, bridges linking the top levels. The rest of the city fell away like cake tiers, gradually reducing in height until only green fields remained. The material did not seem to be glass or metal but something else that sparkled in the red sunlight like cut crystal.
“Are you sure we have time?” She practically pressed her nose against the glass of her window seat in excitement. “When is your family expecting us? And I thought Sangrin weddings were small. What season will it be when we get there?”
“Yes, we have time,” he said. “The event is tomorrow, so we can arrive later tonight. The mating ceremony is just for the people involved, but it is not unusual to have a celebration after. I believe it is summer and the weather is warm. Any more questions?”
“It’s silly,” she said.
He leaned over and held his lips close to her ear. “They will adore you. Do not worry.”
“How do you do that? Know what I’m thinking? That’s cheating.”
“Best boyfriend ever. Say it,” he whispered.
Van pressed her lips together, reluctant to let him see how his unrestrained ego amused her. He wouldn’t be her boyfriend for much longer, anyway. She should make an honest alien out of him soon.
Her stomach rumbled, interrupting the moment.
“Food first,” he said.
“Soup dumplings?” she ask
ed, ever hopeful. He did a damn good job selling her on the dumplings. “Then the Welwita.”
“I endorse this plan.”
Chapter 20
Jaxar
He knew when he was being hunted and could not say the sensation agreed with him. Carefully, so as not to alarm Vanessa, Jaxar searched the crowd but found nothing beyond the normal rush of commuters. With a hand on her lower back, Jaxar steered his mate out of the shuttle terminal and onto a waiting autotransport. Their exposure had been limited to a handful of moments, but the sensation of being watched remained.
Vanessa said nothing as the city rolled by. Did she sense it? The prickling awareness that all was not right, just like the tension before an ambush. He had sworn to keep her safe and stole her away from the dangerous environment of her moon, yet here they were on his home world being followed by an unseen foe.
“What time is it?” Vanessa synced her comm unit with the planetary time. “We have a few hours before the botanical garden closes. Is this dumpling place close?”
“We are already here,” he said as the autotransport pulled up to the curb. He blocked the door with an arm, scanning the street. The only weapon he had was a carbon composite karambit. The material held a sharp edge and could pass the space station’s security undetected. The curved blade worked as an extension of his hand like a claw and excelled in hand-to-hand encounters, but it was useless to protect his mate from an assailant at a distance.
Inside the shop, Jaxar steered his mate to a table in the back. He wanted to place himself between her and the unsecured windows, but he needed to monitor the entrance.
“Sit next to me,” he said. It was as good of a solution as he could find.
While waiting for their order, his mate discussed the plant that enamored her so. “The leaves just keep growing and turning over in one long spiral. It’s fascinating. The longer the leaf gets, the more it sags down to the ground from the weight. You’d think the leaf would break, but it just keeps on going.”
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