Izzie and the Icebeast: A Scifi Alien Romance (Alien Abduction Book 9)

by Honey Phillips

  This time, Baralt didn’t manage to keep his growl under control, undoubtedly proving Relkhei’s point. He would never let Isabel go with this bastard. Unless…would Relkhei’s offer appeal to her? He couldn’t even tell her that the other male was lying because he was sure that Relkhei would keep his promise, at least until he was tired of her.

  Isabel looked up at him, then looked at Relkhei in his fine robes. She shook her head.

  “I’d rather stay with Baralt.”

  Relkhei’s eyes darkened, although his voice remained as calm and controlled as always. “Very well. I hope you do not live to regret your decision.”

  In a swirl of silk and perfume, he was gone.

  Baralt sighed. “He is not going to forgive you for choosing me instead of him.”

  “Did you want me to go with him?”

  “No,” he said honestly. “Even if you had decided that you wanted to, I’m not sure that I would have been able to let you go.”

  “Of course what I want doesn’t make a difference,” she said bitterly and started to turn away from him.

  He put a hand on her shoulder to swing her gently back around to face him.

  “It matters to me, but it matters more to me that you are not hurt, and Relkhei would hurt you.”

  Despair flashed across her face. “Is that all I have to look forward to?”

  “I told you that I would never hurt you.”

  “But I’m only going to be with you for a week.” Her gaze dropped to her feet, her voice so low he could barely hear. “I can’t live like this. Will you give me a weapon?”

  “Relkhei is a skilled fighter. You would not be able to defeat him,” he said gently.

  “You don’t understand. It’s not for him. It’s for me. If the only control I have over my life is how to end it, then I want to make that decision.”

  Horror swept over him as he realized her intention. “No! It is not going to come to that. I will get you out of here.”

  “How?”

  He turned away from her, pacing as he considered the options. Unfortunately, there weren’t many. Relkhei had already refused his offer to purchase Isabel. That meant the only alternative would be to steal her away—and not only steal her but take her someplace where she would be safe from anyone else trying to enslave her. The specific location could be decided later. Right now, the main question was how he was going to get her off the planet.

  It would have to be through one of the smaller traders who skirted the edge of the law. He needed to talk to Varga. The other male had connections everywhere and surely it wouldn’t be that hard to smuggle one small female slave off the planet. Cautiously optimistic, he returned to where she was standing, her eyes anxious.

  “I think there may be a way,” he said slowly.

  “Really? How soon could we leave?”

  Her assumption that he would accompany her pleased him, but the question made him realize that she was not the only one who was trapped on Tgesh Tai. Giving her her freedom would mean losing her, at least temporarily, although he was already determined to follow her as soon as he could. And who would protect her if he was not there?

  “I could not go with you. Yet.”

  “Oh.” She looked disappointed. “Why not? You can’t want to stay in this horrible place.”

  “I’m a contract fighter. That means I have a legal agreement with Relkhei.” If he left, he would be violating his contract—something no Hothian ever did—yet how could he live with himself if anything happened to her? “I have never broken my word.”

  “Your contract says that you have to stay and fight?”

  “Yes. There are a designated number of matches that need to be completed under the terms of the contract.”

  “How many matches?”

  “I fight a minimum of once a week.”

  She frowned thoughtfully. “Does it specify that? One per week? Or is it a specific number of matches over the term of the contract?”

  He hadn’t considered the matter before. The contract was based on the assumption that he would participate in a weekly matches throughout the fight season. The time between fights was used to recover and train for the next match. He reviewed the terms in his head.

  “It’s a specific number,” he said slowly. “I have five more that I am obligated to complete, but I am allowed to arrange the matches. Or rather Mehexip usually makes the arrangements. I believe it could be done.”

  If he could be free of his contract without having to break his word…

  Isabel smiled up at him. “That’s good. Then we could go together.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  He was suddenly conscious of how close they were. Her lush, naked body was almost touching his, the hardened tips of her enticing breasts brushing against the shorter fur of his chest as her sweet scent surrounded him. His kotra pressed against his sheath, anxious to be free. Almost unconsciously, his hand dropped to her shoulder and slid down the silky skin of her back, bringing her more closely against him. For a moment, she leaned into him, then her eyes widened, and she stepped back.

  “I want you to come with me, but that doesn’t mean I’m your slave or anything. I’m not trading one owner for another.”

  “I know.”

  She looked down, and he watched in fascination as a tide of pink rose to her cheeks. “About last night…I don’t usually behave that way. I don’t know what happened.”

  He had wondered that himself and at some point during his sleepless night, he remembered something a medic had mentioned to him a long time ago. “I think perhaps you may have had a reaction to the healing lotion. It has been known to happen to some species but I did not realize that it would occur with humans,” he added hastily.

  “I’ll remember to stay away from it in the future, although it did a good job of healing me. Even the marks Asgii—” She stopped abruptly. After a brief pause, she added, still not looking at him, “Thank you for…stopping when I asked.”

  “I would not take advantage of an unwilling female.”

  “That makes one of you,” she said bitterly, then straightened her shoulders. “So what did you have in mind about leaving?”

  “I think there are a couple of possibilities, but I need to talk to a friend of mine first.” He hesitated. “I don’t wish to confine you, but I think it’s best that you remain out of sight. You should be safe here while I am gone, and you can help yourself to anything you want.”

  “Don’t worry—there isn’t anywhere I want to go other than off this planet.” After a slight pause, she reached out and briefly touched his hand. “Thank you for helping me.”

  It had been the lightest possible touch, but as he bowed his head and departed, he could still feel the warmth of it branding his skin.

  Chapter Seven

  Baralt found Varga in his quarters. Unlike Baralt, Varga had chosen a suite of rooms on the surface of Tgesh Tai. The arena was located on the outskirts of the city, and Varga’s rooms were on the side that faced away from the populated area. From his windows, nothing was visible except the vast desert landscape.

  “How hard would it be to leave this planet?” Baralt asked as soon as he entered.

  Varga raised an eyebrow. “Are you planning on running out on your contract?”

  Baralt fought back his instinctive anger that the other male would question his honor. “Of course not. Although I may have found a way to end it sooner.”

  “How do you intend to do that?”

  “It was pointed out to me that the contract only specifies the number of matches—it doesn’t provide a time frame.”

  Varga stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I believe you are correct. But if you attempt more frequent matches, you will not have any time to recover between them. Or to train for the next one.”

  Baralt shrugged. “The matches will serve as training.”

  “You know this is a risky proposition.”

  He had considered that, of course, debating his opti
ons on the way to Varga’s quarters. Without sufficient time to either recover or train, he would be taking a chance. On the other hand, he wasn’t looking for prestigious opponents. He didn’t care if his ranking slipped, and in fact, he would be forced to accept any available matches if he wanted to complete them all before his time with Isabel came to an end. It would have been much harder at any other time of the year, but this was the final feast week before the annual break, and there were a number of matches every day.

  “I know,” he said. “But I don’t have any alternative.”

  “What’s your hurry? I thought you intended to sign up for an additional year.”

  “My plans have changed.” He hesitated, still not entirely sure about revealing his scheme, but he needed Varga’s help, and he trusted the other male as much as he trusted anyone. “I don’t intend to leave by myself.”

  Varga studied him, and Baralt could see the wheels turning behind that impassive face.

  “The slave,” he said at last.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, that definitely complicates matters.” Varga stood and strode over to the window, staring out across the empty sand. “Once your contract has been fulfilled, there will be nothing to hold you here and no one would stop you leaving. But taking a slave who doesn’t belong to you? That’s a whole other issue.”

  “Can it be done?” he repeated. If Varga refused him, he would have to make his own arrangements, and while he had no doubt that he would eventually be successful, time was not on his side.

  “For the right price, I believe so. I will make some inquiries.” Varga frowned at him. “But Relkhei is not a stupid male. It won’t take him long to figure out that you are trying to bring your contract to an early end. And the timing will be suspicious.”

  “I planned to choose only low-status fights. He takes little interest in them.”

  “Perhaps not, but I suspect he knows everything that occurs in his organization. If you do not want to go directly to him with an explanation, perhaps we should start a rumor instead.”

  “What kind of rumor?”

  Varga stroked his chin again. “One possibility is that you are simply getting too old and you are ready to retire.”

  Baralt bared a fang. “Didn’t you see my match yesterday?”

  “I did. And I saw your knee giving you trouble. If I were a young fighter looking to make a name for myself, I would challenge you.”

  “If you spread a rumor about my decrepitude, isn’t that likely to occur anyway?” he asked dryly.

  “It’s a possibility. I would want to have the remaining matches scheduled before that occurred. Do you have an alternate suggestion? Perhaps a family emergency requires you to return home?”

  The familiar pang washed over him. “I never intend to return home.”

  “Relkhei doesn’t need to know that.” Varga regarded him thoughtfully. “And perhaps you should not be so quick to dismiss the idea. Where were you intending to go after you left?”

  “I’m not really sure. A planet where my female will not be enslaved.”

  “There is a difference between a planet that doesn’t support slavery and one that would protect an escaped slave. Relkhei would be within his rights to come after her. I know you don’t like to talk about Hothrest, but from what I understand, the two of you could hide away safely there—at least long enough to find out if he is going to pursue her and to make other plans.”

  It was Baralt’s turn to pace to the window and stare out over the desert. As much as he hated to admit it, Varga had a good point. No outsiders were allowed on Hothrest except for at the main spaceport. But the thought of returning home and seeing all those accusing faces once again chilled his blood.

  “There has to be another alternative. Aren’t there other planets that are friendly to former slaves? I thought the new Emperor has been trying to lift some of the restrictions on slavery.”

  “There are, but as I said, she wouldn’t be a freed former slave, she would be an escaped slave. Unless you can persuade Relkhei to sell her to you?”

  “I already tried. He refused. He said he wants her for himself.”

  “Then you are extremely fucked, my friend. That’s going to make it even more difficult.”

  “But not impossible?”

  Varga grinned. “Not impossible. Just difficult and expensive and dangerous.”

  “Oh, is that all?” he asked dryly.

  “How are you going to arrange the matches?”

  “Through Mehexip as usual. Why?”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Especially if he thinks he’s going to lose you as a source of income, I suspect he wouldn’t hesitate to sell you out to Relkhei.”

  “If I use someone else, he’s bound to find out.”

  “Perhaps.” Varga looked off into the distance. “There are always the midnight matches.”

  “I haven’t fought in those since my first year,” he protested. The late-night matches were intended to give new fighters a chance to practice their skills in front of a small audience.

  “Exactly. Mehexip is unlikely to attend them. And while I have no doubt that word will get out eventually, all we need to do is keep it quiet until the end of the week. You could still use him to arrange the rest of the fights you need.”

  “That could work,” he admitted.

  “But remember that the results of those matches are still recorded. If anyone is paying attention, Relkhei is going to find out—and he’s not going to like it. You’re one of his main fighters.”

  He sighed. “Which leads us back to establishing a reason I am leaving.”

  “The need to return home is the most compelling argument. Perhaps a dying relative? Even Relkhei must have had a mother at one point.”

  “My parents are dead.” The pain of that had never left him.

  “I’m sorry, my friend. But it’s not something that Relkhei would know.”

  “You’re right. But if he knows where I’m going, won’t that make it easier for him to come after Isabel?”

  “Only if he puts the two events together. And even if he does, I don’t think he would get far on Hothrest. Or maybe we can convince him that his disappearing slave is not related to your departure.” Varga grinned again. “You have presented me with an interesting challenge.”

  “I’m so happy to provide you with some amusement.”

  “It’s actually a welcome change. I never thought that I would say this, but I’m getting tired of fighting. Perhaps it’s time to end my contract as well.”

  “You’re welcome to come with us.”

  “I have a few more matches to finish up first. After that? Perhaps I will visit that icy planet of yours.”

  Baralt found himself hoping that Varga would take him up on his offer. He suspected it would be nice to see a friendly face—he had little hope of seeing any welcome on the faces of his tribe.

  The two males discussed some additional details, and then Baralt headed back to his quarters, considerably poorer but unexpectedly optimistic that their plan might come together.

  Izzie watched as the door closed behind Baralt and fought the impulse to call him back. He had said she would be safe here, but her brief experience in this alien world suggested that there was no safety anywhere. Not that her life on Earth had exactly been a bed of roses.

  Don’t be foolish, she scolded herself. He was trying to help her and keeping him at her side wouldn’t let him carry out whatever plan he had in mind.

  Was he really going to free her? Her natural skepticism warred with the impulse to trust him. So far he had done nothing to hurt her. Even after he had given her pleasure—so much pleasure—the previous evening, he hadn’t forced himself on her. The memory of his actions caused an immediate response in her body that both dismayed and encouraged her. She didn’t want to be attracted to an alien, no matter how kind he was or how talented his tongue might be, but it was a relief to know that she was still capable of enjoyment.


  Ignoring her hard nipples and the sudden dampness between her thighs, she decided the first order of business would be to find some clothing. Since Baralt had told her to make herself at home, she didn’t feel too guilty about rummaging through his bedroom. Unfortunately, it didn’t appear that he had any clothing other than the belts he wore around his lean hips, so there was very little to choose from. Her only option was a type of kilt hidden at the back of a chest. Although she suspected it was designed to go around his waist, she fastened it over her breasts instead. The cloth hung down far enough to make a short dress. Far too short for her liking but better than being naked.

  Her next action was to look for food. The small kitchen area contained a machine with instructions she couldn’t read, but it also had something similar to a refrigerator that held a basket of various types of fruit. After a little cautious experimentation, she decided that two of them were quite acceptable and ended up devouring both.

  With a full stomach, she was aware of just how exhausted she felt. Between the cage on the ship and the slave quarters, she had barely slept since she’d been taken. Last night in Baralt’s arms had been the first time that she had truly slept, but it hadn’t been enough to make up for what she had missed. She briefly considered returning to the bed, but she didn’t like the idea of being asleep and vulnerable in a bedroom. Instead, she hauled one of the blankets into the main living area and curled up on the couch. She only intended to rest her eyes, but the next thing she knew, Baralt had returned.

  Chapter Eight

  When Izzie opened her eyes, she found Baralt standing over her. Perhaps she should have been scared, but instead, the sight of the big white-furred alien gave her an odd feeling of safety. She smiled up at him.

  “I’m sorry I fell asleep.”

  “Don’t be,” he said gruffly. “You have been through a difficult time.”

  At his words, the reminder of her situation made her frown, and she pulled herself into a sitting position. “Did you really mean what you said—about helping me leave?”