by Emma Alisyn
WARRIOR’S BOND
YADESHI BRIDES #1
A
STARR HUNTRESS
EMMA ALISYN
SCIENCE FICTION ROMANCE
Copyright Emma Alisyn 2016
Cover Design www.hardcandiespublishing.com
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SNEAK PEEK
"What the hell am I doing here, Benyon?"
He set down his fork and leaned back in his chair, lids veiling his eyes. "What do you mean?"
"What am I doing here? Why go to all this trouble to get me and my kids here? Why are you doing all this?"
His fingers tapped the table before stilling. "I thought it was clear where my motivations lay."
"Not really. I guess we're supposed to be dating, but it doesn’t really feel like it."
"And what," he said softly, "does it feel like?"
"An... office friendship." She took a sip of water to moisten her throat. "At first, I thought you wanted to explore... other things. We... almost made love, but since then you’ve been..." She stumbled over the words, feeling the heat in her cheeks. "I’m not sure what you really want. Did you- did I disappoint you?"
He didn’t speak for a long moment- long enough that she wanted to shout with impatience- but that would just make him shut up for good.
"Nice," he said. "Friendship. Disappoint. I think I’ve made a mistake."
Her heart sank. She wasn’t really one to push things, except when it came to her children. And now she'd likely pushed him away with her emotional outburst.
"What mistake? Look, Benyon, you aren’t obligated to me just because of some things you said in passing a few weeks ago, or because we made out." She stood up, gesturing. "I don’t know how I can repay you for helping my family for all of this. But you don’t have to-"
He stood, the energy in the movement shutting her up. His broad shoulders seemed coiled, tight with sudden tension.
"I’ve made a mistake."
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you to my Fiercely Real Readers who gave valuable time to help shape this story into a spicy, as error free as possible, read. I am so grateful for your effort and input.
TIFFANY SHAEFFER
JO NIELSEN
1
CHAPTER ONE
“I’m afraid I must refer him to Social Intervention,” the school counselor said.
Zoriah stared at Ms. Beckett, employing the only useful technique she’d learned during her teenage years from the government parenting programs.
One breath, two. Three breaths, four. Think before you speak. Acts of aggression equaled weeks of remediation- more time under the watchful eye of an overburdened case worker. More opportunities for them to tear her family apart like children pulling wings from a trapped butterfly.
“This would be the third referral,” Zoriah said.
Her precious teenage son said nothing, arms folded, staring out of the window with every appearance of boredom. What was he looking at, besides his future dribbling down a drain? She wanted to smack him.
“Yes,” the counselor said, voice soft.
“If he’s taken from my care, will my housing allotment be reduced?” Zoriah asked, knowing the answer. She knew what a third intervention meant. They all did. Focusing on practical matters helped prevent her from breaking down.
“That’s possible.”
They’d lucked out with the neighborhood they lived in now, one of the few remaining family sections where four-bedroom homes were still relatively new, the parks updated. With one less minor in her custody, her and the girls would be moved to a three bedroom, and three bedroom homes in low-tier sections in Omaha were... infamous.
Khalid stirred. “Ma. It’s all right, I’m not going to get referred.”
She struggled to remember the self-soothing visualization techniques. Ocean waves, the sun beating on her neck and the scent of brine and grilling fish. Peace and tranquility.
“Do you know something we don’t, Khalid?”
They had to teach low-tier women visualization techniques because the government wasn’t ever going to allow them the opportunity to improve their lives. Once a low-tier, always a low-tier. Someone had to do the cooking and cleaning for the rich- real human staff being a sign of their wealth. Everyone could afford a bot these days.
“I did it on purpose.”
Ocean waves morphed into a tsunami. “You what?”
He turned in the seat, faced her fully. “Look. I’m sixteen. Technically, I can drop out if I register for either a-”
“What have I told you about government sponsored trade school programs! It’s indentured servitude.”
His mouth tightened. “Stop yelling, Ma. Just listen, alright? I haven’t been skipping school to jack off.”
Zoriah winced. Did her son understand the... alternative... meanings of that phrase? She’d taken away his internet devices years ago to prevent learning such things.
“I’ve been training with the Yadeshi. At YETI.” He paused. “Yadeshi Earth Training-”
Really? “I’m not stupid.”
He shrugged, snapping his mouth closed.
And she’d thought registering for a state run trade school was the worst thing he could do, besides run afoul of a street organization.
“The damn Yadeshi. Are you out of your mind? The Yadeshi are...” words failed her.
Irritation flashed in his dark eyes. “They’re warriors,” he snapped. “They have discipline, and they’re smart. And loyal. Like a family.”
Zoriah couldn’t speak. She’d done her best. Maybe she could do better. Sixteen was young to have a baby, and to be forced to wed the father, who hadn’t wanted to settle down so young… the state didn’t care. They just wanted two financially responsible parents in the home.
Which meant living under the radar of SIA until Khalid was a legal adult. Which meant that with this third referral for misconduct, SIA would stick their nose back into her home life and evaluate not only her parenting of him, but of her two daughters. Which meant Zoriah needed to figure out something, and fast.
The counselor pursed her lips. “If your plan was to enter the training program with the Yadeshi, I could hold off on that referral. I don’t approve of you skipping school to force us to allow you to train, but under the circumstances what is done, is done.”
“What?” Zoriah stared at her. “How can you condone a child turning himself over to those blue skinned-”
“Don’t be specieist, Ma.”
“Is that a word?”
“It’s not a bad idea,” Ms. Beckett interjected. “Human students who graduate are offered opportunities for travel, employment-”
“As mechanics and mail-order brides.” Did she really have any choice but to allow it? They knew what the alternative was, damn her too-clever son.
“They accept humans in their tech and ground soldier units,” Khalid said.
“Have you turned in your paperwork?” Ms. Beckett asked. “You’ll need a mentor to sign off. It can take a while.”
He smiled, crossing his ankles. “I started as a scrub-”
The woman cleared her throat. “Prospect.”
“Whatever. I started training as a prospect already. With Adekhan Benyon Obe’shan.”
Ms. Beckett’s eyes widened. �
�An Adekhan? Khalid, that’s wonderful news!”
Zoriah rubbed her head. “What is an Adekhan?”
She’d ignored all talk of the alien warriors, even though they’d been on earth a good ten years. Zoriah didn’t approve of violence, and their whole culture was based on martial prowess. Once the reasons for their alliance with Earth became known- access to fertile human women for marriage, and human men to train as skilled tech-laborers, since the men of their society all wanted to run around with lightswords- she’d decided to write them off.
“An honored warrior,” Khalid said. “One who proved his willingness in battle to die for his unit.”
Perfect. Just... perfect. “How long has this been going on?”
He stopped staring her down then, eyes sliding back towards the window. “A few months.”
“When? You haven’t been skipping school for a few months.”
“I’ve been going on the weekends.”
“What about the enrichment program?” She worked the weekends and wasn’t home to monitor him.
“There was no program, Ma.”
Zoriah closed her eyes. “And your sisters?”
He paused.
“And your sisters?”
“They’ve been training with me.”
***
He watched Ladasha sit in a chair across from him. Benyon nodded, acknowledging her presence and giving her, a warrior not yet ranked Adekhan, permission to speak.
"Did you consider my co-habitation request?" she asked.
After several years among the humans, Benyon learned the Yadeshi were considered direct. It hadn’t bothered him before- but he'd come to enjoy the small meaningless conversations when walking among their shopkeepers and service people.
"It's hot today," he said, in English.
Her brow furrowed. "It has been hot for the last five years."
So much for little talk. "Never mind. I considered your request. I've chosen to decline."
She didn’t look surprised. He’d never shown interest in her as a woman, though they fought well together and they'd run several successful joint training simulations with the prospects. Ladasha was competent, even tempered and physically attractive, the epitome of a Yadeshi woman. Well-toned musculature didn’t detract from slender curves.
“I thought so,” she said. “Can you tell me why?”
A reasonable request.
"You are a fine warrior, and an attractive woman. I don’t think we would suit. I am honored by the request."
"We're both warriors. I will make Adekhan in the next battle."
He didn’t doubt it. Benyon wasn’t accustomed to explaining himself, but there was nothing challenging in her demeanor. "My mother would not approve."
Ladasha paused. "Your mother is dead."
Yes. Defending him from invaders. His mother, who'd rejected the Yadeshi warrior way of life to live simply, by the effort of her hands. A warm woman, and hardworking, with a soft body and broad smile. But in the end, she'd been Yadeshi to the core, dispatching enough of the enemy for him to find safety before her death.
"She would have wanted my marks to merge with a woman like her," he said. "She was not a warrior."
She nodded and rose, leaving the table with a brief, perfunctory salute. Watching her, Benyon sighed. His assignment on Earth ended in a few months, but he hadn't considered leave taking. The thought of merging with a human woman lured him- they were a tantalizing combination of softness and warrior spirit. But even though he’d spoken to many who intrigued, none yet had sparked his markings.
"Adekhan!"
The yadoana called him, the female Earth children under his tutelage. Another reason to delay his leave- who could he choose to take over their training? There was no one he trusted to handle them properly.
“Aja’eko,” he greeted as their brother approached, checking his amusement behind gravity when the boy executed a flawless obeisance.
Khalid’s sisters were not quite so perfect. Little Ashe grinned while attempting to emulate her brother, shooting him little looks from merry dark eyes. The eldest sister, Reign, performed her obeisance with the banked defiance he’d realized was not directed at him, but a part of her nature.
That one would be a Warlord’s consort, human or no.
“Adekhan, I need your help,” Khalid said.
“We’re not supposed to be here,” Reign said, sitting in Benyon’s presence without permission.
He ignored the lapse, watching the almost man formulate words. “My help, aja’eko?”
“Do you know what SIA is?”
An interesting question. He was familiar with the humans’ agency, the one tasked with providing for their people who had no families to look after them.
“I’m familiar. What does that place have to do with you?”
“I provoked them.”
Benyon’s brows rose and again he hid his amusement. “What did you do?”
“I’ve been skipping school. This is my third infraction.”
Amusement vanished. There were human cadets in the facility who’d fled SIA, and their barbaric system of remediation for individuals they deemed potential drains on social resources.
“If you knew you had two infractions, why risk a third?”
Khalid straightened his shoulders, gaze direct. “If I enlist as a prospect, SIA will leave me alone. But my mother doesn’t want me here.”
Ahhh… “Your strategy is to force her hand then.” Benyon frowned. “Your mother is unaware of your training here?”
Reign snorted. “Well, now she knows. Good going, genius.”
Benyon held up a hand. “You lied.”
Khalid’s teeth ground as he glanced at his sister. “Yes, Adekhan.”
Benyon turned his attention to the girls. Ashe, uncharacteristically silent and Reign, staring up at the ceiling, arms folded.
“And your actions effect your sisters?”
“…yes. If my mom won’t sign off on the paperwork, then I’ll be placed in remediation and our housing allowance will be reduced. I don’t think my mom will sign. She... doesn’t like fighting.”
“A mother would like the loss of her son even less.”
Aja’eko sighed. “Can you talk to her? So she doesn’t make my life miserable until I’m eighteen? Maybe if she sees-”
“I will speak with her.”
2
CHAPTER TWO
Zoriah hoarded her temper, imagining all kinds of punishments for her children. A week of dishes- by hand- for Khalid. No dessert for Ashe. And Reign- take away her tablet. They would squeal, but they would deserve it.
They were at the Yadeshi training complex. She knew it.
She should be able to come home from a graveyard shift to find her children reading quietly in the living room, or completing weekend homework. She’d been very clear that they were not to return to YETI. Zoriah had wrangled an early release from her boss just to come home before time to make sure they were complying with her instruction.
But of course they weren’t home.
She sat on the front porch, not even bothering to change out of her uniform, and waited, watching the street for the figures of her three headstrong children. They turned the corner fifteen minutes after they should have expected her to be home, and they weren’t alone. A Yadeshi warrior- with the punishing physique and blue undertone to his skin, he could be nothing else- held Ashe’s hand.
Zoriah rose, a lump of temper and fear freezing in her throat. Even from the distance of half a block the long tail of inky hair and slanted eyes were… alien. Beautiful, but not human. They walked up the yard, stopping in front of Zoriah. She ignored the stranger, struggling to form a sentence when he fastened eyes on her.
“Mom,” Khalid said. “Sorry. We didn’t train, we just went to go get Adekhan Benyon so you could meet him.”
Zoriah’s eyes zeroed in on her daughter’s small hand, tucked into the palm of the warrior looming over her. That large hand could crush the
bones of Ashe’s fingers like Zoriah crushed flies.
“Ashe, go to your sister’s room,” she said. “Reign, take her and go.”
Ashe’s face fell. “Mom-”
She cut the girl off with a look. Words welled in Zoriah’s throat, but she held herself still. She’d wait until her children were out of the line of fire before she flayed this… male… alive.
The warrior released Ashe. “Obey your mother. No, Khalid, you stay. Never leave your mother alone with an unknown warrior.”
Khalid frowned. “We know you.”
“Your mother does not. And you never leave a beautiful woman under your protection alone with a male who is not her father, brother or mate.”
Her son nodded, folding his arms with the air of a young man prepared to post up and stand guard- right where he stood. And then the words caught up with her. Beautiful? She was the girl next door, a little extra weight from three babies. Thick hair she kept tamed with coconut oil- it was cheaper to buy in bulk than hair products. She didn’t wear makeup because of the expense and the pointlessness of it and she used the same coconut oil on her skin as her hair.
“You can,” the warrior added, “stand post on the porch with the door open.”
Khalid nodded, turning on his heels with military precision and striding out to the porch. Zoriah watched, taken aback. She’d ever seen Khalid walk with such speed or purpose. It took five minutes just to get him to cross the living room to the kitchen to take out the trash.
“Your son informed me of the difficulty he is facing.”
“And did he tell you he’s been training without my permission?”
Slanted eyes, a shimmery silver-grey, stared at her, unblinking. “Yes. And that you have instructed him to stop.”
“I don’t agree with training children in violence.”
He frowned. “We do not teach violence. We teach control, and defense of one’s family. Never aggression. You will recall why my people are here on earth.”