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

by Honey Phillips

  Njkall sighed and rose to his feet. “I find your reason for being here acceptable. For now. If you wished to return on a permanent basis, you would need to find your place in the tribe again.”

  Was that a suggestion or a threat? Baralt wasn’t entirely sure, but he was too relieved that they would be allowed to stay to pursue it.

  “Thank you.”

  “You may not wish to thank me. As I said, there will be others who will disagree, and I suspect that they will attempt to make your time here…uncomfortable.”

  “As long as they do not attempt to bother my mate, I can handle it.”

  “No one will interfere with her. I will pass the word that she is under the protection of the Elders.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Yes, thank you,” Isabel echoed.

  “Of course. All females should be protected.” Njkall shot a quick glance in Zemma’s direction before turning back to Isabel. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Isabel.” He headed for the entrance to the cave, then stopped. “And Baralt—welcome home.”

  The Elder was gone before he could respond, but warmth filled his chest. Apparently, not everyone hated him.

  “Now it’s my turn to ask the questions,” Zemma said, glaring at him, and he winced. Perhaps his relief had been premature.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Izzie almost laughed when Baralt tensed at his sister’s statement. He looked so guilty.

  “Why didn’t you contact me?” Zemma demanded.

  “Because I did not want you to be tainted by your association with me. I knew that you were safe and well cared for, and I hoped that everyone would forget that we were related.”

  Zemma’s eyes narrowed. “That’s a load of sarlag shit. Our people worship their fucking lineage. Of course they weren’t going to forget.”

  “When did you start talking like that?” Baralt demanded.

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a child anymore. I can speak however I want.”

  “I know you’re not a child.” He sighed. “I suppose I still think of you as the way you were when I left.”

  “I was afraid that you were dead,” Zemma said softly. “Then we heard recently that a Hothian had been seen in the fight pits. I knew it was you. I even tried—” She came to an abrupt halt, then shook her head. “It doesn’t matter now. I am still angry that you left and angry you did not contact me, but it is more important that you are here now. You and your mate.”

  Zemma looked over at Izzie, her eyes assessing, but she appeared curious rather than hostile. Now that Izzie had a chance to observe her more closely, she realized that Baralt’s sister was a very attractive female. Like the other female Hothians, her fur was short and close to her body, revealing a curvy figure. A variety of beautiful necklaces hung around her neck, and a jeweled belt circled her hips, but she wore no other clothing.

  “I’m very happy to meet you, Zemma,” she said with a cautious smile.

  “I’m happy to meet you as well.” Zemma looked at Baralt, then sighed. “Don’t think that you are off the hook yet, but perhaps we should continue this discussion over a meal.”

  “Are you cooking?” Baralt made a horrified face. “I still remember that horrible cake you made for me.”

  “As you have pointed out several times already, I was only a child. And it wasn’t terrible.”

  “Oh yes, it was.”

  “Then why did you eat the whole thing?”

  “Because you made it for me, Zemma,” Baralt said softly, and Izzie saw Zemma’s eyes fill with tears before she jumped to her feet.

  “I’m going to start on that meal now.”

  “May I help you?” Izzie asked.

  “Of course. We can discuss my brother.”

  Baralt groaned, but he didn’t object when she went to join the other female.

  Before they started on the meal, Zemma gave her a quick tour of their family caves. The public spaces were centered around a central cave filled with a lush garden. The individual quarters were further back, and Izzie was startled to realize how many there were—the space had been intended for a much larger family.

  “If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to your parents?” she asked as they set to work. Her job was to chop the mound of vegetables they had gathered from the garden. The kitchen was surprisingly modern, and she was relieved that they weren’t cooking over the stone pit her imagination had conjured up.

  “Zeeja—my mother—died when I was born,” Zemma said.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Thank you, but because I never knew her, I never really missed her.”

  “What about your father? Did you know him?”

  “Not really. My mother’s family raised me, and he only visited occasionally. My brothers came to see me more often than he did.”

  “They didn’t live with you?”

  Zemma shook her head as she stirred the contents of a large pot. “My mother was my father’s second mate, so my brothers are not related to her family. Besides, they were already older and more independent when I came along.” A reminiscent smile crossed her face. “You would think they would have resented me, but they were wonderful brothers. Right up until they left.”

  “Why did they leave?”

  Zemma sat down next to her and began chopping as well. “My father died when they were teenagers. He was somewhat of a recluse, and I’m not sure that either of the boys really felt at home in these caves. Baralt had been arguing for a long time that we need to be more involved with the rest of the Empire, and the two of them decided to move to Port Eyeja. I didn’t want them to go, of course, but they told me I could join them when I was old enough.”

  “What happened to your other brother? And why does Baralt blame himself?”

  “Akhalt was killed in Port Eyeja. As to why Baralt blames himself—” Zemma shrugged, but face was filled with sorrow. “He’s always taken responsibility for everyone else. And he was the most outspoken about the idea of moving to town. When he brought Akhalt’s body back for the death ceremonies, many of the tribe treated him poorly and suggested that he was responsible. He left as soon as he recovered.”

  “Recovered?”

  “He was badly injured in the incident.”

  Izzie’s heart ached at the thought of an injured Baralt, surrounded by people who blamed him for his brother’s death. She could understand why he had left. “And you hadn’t heard from him since?”

  “No. I do believe what he said—that he was trying to protect me—but I wish he had talked to me before he made that decision. I’m sure he thought I was too young to understand, but I wasn’t.”

  “He’s very protective.”

  “I know. But sometimes trying to save someone pain only makes it worse in the end.”

  Izzie reached over and squeezed Zemma’s hand. Zemma returned the clasp, then gave her a determined smile.

  “But enough about me. What about your family?”

  “My mother died when I was born as well. My father raised me.” Although, that was overstating it. “He was not a good parent. I left home as soon as I could.”

  “You have no family to miss you? No tribe?” Zemma looked horrified.

  “No. I’ve been on my own for a long time.”

  “Not anymore,” Zemma said firmly. “You’re Baralt’s mate, and that makes you part of our tribe now.”

  Was she? Had he made that announcement because of how he felt about her? Or simply so that she would be allowed to remain?

  “And it gives me hope,” Zemma added. “Maybe more of the old ways can change.”

  “The old ways?”

  “Forbidding us to mate with anyone other than another Hothian.”

  “Does that matter to you?”

  Hothians couldn’t blush, but Izzie suspected that if Zemma had been human, her cheeks would be pink.

  “I met a male while I was…outside. But he is not Hothian. And he’s probably forgotten me by now,” she added gloomil
y.

  “I doubt that. But can’t you go see him?”

  “I’m not supposed to leave the caves.”

  “They’re keeping you prisoner?” Zemma’s situation seemed all too close to her own recent imprisonment. “Tell Baralt—he’ll get you out of here.”

  “No, it’s not like that. Exactly.” Zemma looked down at the cutting board, avoiding Izzie’s gaze. “But the last time I left, it didn’t go well. They want to protect me.”

  “What happened?” she asked softly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “There was a male. I went to him because I thought he might know about Baralt. And at first, he was exciting, but then…I couldn’t leave. And it was no longer my choice.”

  Izzie’s heart ached. She reached out and took Zemma’s hand again. “On the slave ship… It wasn’t my choice either.”

  They sat in silence, taking comfort from each other, until Zemma gave her a shaky smile.

  “You can never tell Baralt. He would only blame himself.”

  “I won’t. And don’t say anything to him about my situation either.” She suspected he already knew, but they had never discussed it, and she didn’t want it between them.

  “Of course not.”

  After a brief pause, Zemma changed the subject, asking Izzie more general questions about life on Earth as they finished cooking.

  She’d had fun cooking with Zemma, but now as they sat down with Baralt to eat, Izzie noticed that he didn’t look happy. While she and Zemma had been busy, he’d left the cave to make some unspecified arrangements.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked quietly as he toyed absently with his food.

  “Not really. But being here is harder than I expected.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I am no longer considered one of the tribe.”

  “Of course you are,” Zemma said indignantly. “Have you been listening to that loudmouth Durgal again?”

  He shrugged. “It’s not just him.”

  “We don’t have to stay here.” Izzie reached over and took his hand. “Would you rather go back to the port?”

  “It would not be safe there.”

  “I trust you to protect me.”

  “That’s sweet.” Zemma rolled her eyes in a remarkably human gesture. “But he’s right. If someone comes looking for you, half the people in Port Eyeja would turn you over for the price of a cheap ale. We would never let offworlders enter the caves.”

  “You let me,” she pointed out.

  “Because you are Baralt’s mate.”

  There was that word again. She and Baralt really needed to discuss it.

  “I’d be willing to bet that Njkall even knew you were coming,” Zemma added.

  Baralt frowned at her. “Did he say something to you?”

  “Of course not. But he’s a canny old bastard.”

  “Is that any way to speak about an Elder of your tribe?” a deep voice said pleasantly from the cave entrance, and Izzie and Zemma both jumped. Izzie noticed that Baralt looked resigned rather than surprised that the leader had returned.

  “I apologize, Elder Njkall,” Zemma said stiffly.

  “Not at all. Your assessment, while colorful, is not inaccurate. And I did know that Baralt was coming to join us—and bringing a visitor. These days, there is very little that occurs in Port Eyeja of which I am unaware. Which is why I wish to speak to you,” he added, looking at Baralt.

  “We just sat down to eat,” Zemma protested.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Baralt said, starting to rise to his feet.

  Izzie put a restraining hand on his arm. “Yes, it does. Zemma worked hard and this is our first meal as a family. But perhaps Elder Njkall could join us?”

  Both males looked surprised, but Njkall bowed his head and accepted. The first few minutes were rather awkward, but Zemma filled the silence with cheerful chatter, and Njkall proved to be a courteous and entertaining guest. Even Baralt seemed to relax.

  As they sipped their after-dinner drinks, Njkall sighed. “This has been most delightful, but I do need to speak to Baralt.”

  “Go ahead,” Baralt said.

  “It might be better to discuss it alone.”

  “If it involves Baralt, it involves me,” Izzie said firmly, and Baralt shot her a surprised, gratified look.

  “And me,” Zemma added. “We’re not as fragile as you seem to think.”

  “Forgive me. Of course you are not.” Njkall tapped his claws together thoughtfully before turning to Baralt. “I have been requested to ask you to leave.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Baralt simply looked at Elder Njkall, not particularly surprised at his words. During his earlier explorations, more than one tribe member had turned away from him, and he had heard muttered whispers following him.

  “Perhaps it is for the best,” he agreed. “But I would ask that you allow my mate to remain.”

  “I’m not staying here without you,” Isabel said indignantly.

  Even though his heart rejoiced at her desire to remain by his side, he shook his head. “We just discussed this. This is the safest place for you to be.”

  “I don’t care. If you leave, I’m leaving.”

  “Me too,” Zemma added. “I’m not losing you again so soon.”

  “There is no need for all this drama,” Njkall said calmly. “I said that the request had been made, not that I had granted it.”

  He frowned at the older male. “Then why are you here?”

  “For two reasons. First of all, we need to find a way to bring you back to the tribe. It occurs to me that it would be an ideal time for a paxha hunt.”

  A paxha hunt? The hunts only occurred on special feast days—or when a youth of the tribe wished to be considered a grown male.

  “You think that I am a child?”

  “Of course not, but the hunt is not just a coming of age ritual—it is a test both of one’s worthiness to join the tribe and of one’s desire to do so.”

  Presented in those terms, the idea had an unexpected appeal. And the challenge made his blood race and his claws extend. “Very well, I accept.”

  “Good. I believe it will go a long way toward your acceptance.”

  “And the second reason you came tonight?”

  Njkall sighed and tapped his claws together. “You were not wrong when you spoke of the need to become more integrated with the rest of the Empire. We cannot remain isolated and expect our way of life to remain untouched.”

  “Judging by the speeders in the outer cave, it’s already changed.”

  “It has. We thought we could just adopt Imperial technology to guard our planet and ignore everything else, but we should have realized that it was not so simple. After you left, I made the argument that we needed to have a presence in Port Eyeja, and the other Elders agreed.”

  Baralt bit back an indignant response. At least his leaving had made a difference.

  “But things have been changing recently,” Njkall continued. “We were used to hide the construction of a dreadful weapon—”

  “What?!” He couldn’t conceal his astonishment and Njkall sighed.

  “It is no longer a concern, but it made me realize that we should have been more aware of events in the Empire—and of events here on Hothrest. And then there was the attempt to produce artificial sothiti. Without it, do we have any control over our destiny?”

  “Because of its value?” Isabel asked.

  “Yes. It is both our only source of Imperial credits and sufficiently desirable to provide for our protection.”

  “You don’t have anything else that’s valuable?”

  Njkall shook his head, and Isabel frowned, but she didn’t pursue it.

  “I would like you to join the Council of Elders tomorrow to discuss your experiences in the Empire and give us your perspective.”

  While it was phrased as a request, it was undoubtedly an order. But at least they were willing to listen. If only they had been as willing before h
is brother died, he thought bitterly.

  “Very well, I will speak to them.”

  “Good. I will make arrangements for the hunt tomorrow and the council meeting the following day.” Njkall rose to his feet and bowed to Zemma. “Thank you for a delightful meal. You will make a fine mate.”

  To Baralt’s surprise, his sister glared at the Elder. “I want a mate who values me for more than my domestic skills.”

  Njkall sighed again. “It takes time to achieve change, my child.”

  “Too much time,” Zemma muttered.

  Baralt frowned at the two of them but decided not to demand answers. Yet.

  “Until tomorrow,” Njkall said, and with a regretful look at Zemma, he departed.

  “What was that about?” Baralt demanded.

  “Not now, please.”

  Isabel put a hand on his arm, and he realized that his sister looked both tired and upset. “Tomorrow,” he said firmly.

  “I can hardly wait.”

  Ignoring Zemma’s sarcasm, he rose to his feet and began collecting dishes. “Why don’t you get some rest?”

  “Perhaps I will. It’s been a long day. But I wouldn’t have traded it for the world. I’m so glad you’re home, Baralt.” Zemma hugged him, then wished Isabel good night and disappeared.

  “I’ll help you,” Isabel said.

  “You helped to cook. I will clean.”

  “Helped being the operative word. Your sister did most of the work.”

  “It is very strange to think of her as an adult,” he admitted as they finished clearing the table.

  “How could you do it, Baralt?” she asked softly. “How could you leave her for so long?”

  “I didn’t want to, but I meant what I said. I didn’t want her to be tainted by her association with me. I sent credits for her care as soon as I could, but I asked her mother’s family not to mention me.” He had been grateful for every scrap of information they’d provided in return, even though that was all it had been—occasional scraps.

  She hugged him, and the feel of her body against his stirred his need. He reluctantly stepped back. “You are distracting me—and I have a kitchen to clean.”

  “It is rather a mess, isn’t it?” Isabel wrinkled her nose as she studied the room. “Zemma is a good cook, but she’s not exactly neat. Good thing there are two of us to set it to rights.”