Hanna and the Hitman: A SciFi Alien Romance (Alien Abduction Book 8)

by Honey Phillips

  “You did the right thing,” he said sincerely. Just the thought of her fragile body overcome by a Derian male had his natural form threatening to break through. He forced it back, but it took more effort than normal, and he felt his Sarranian disguise falter for a second. Fuck. He couldn’t afford this kind of weakness now.

  “Are you all right?” Hanna was still looking up at him, but her misery had been replaced by concern. Concern for him. His chest ached. When was the last time anyone had shown any concern for him?

  “I’m fine,” he snapped, and she started to pull away. He immediately drew her back under his arm. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long time since I was on my planet, and it makes me difficult to deal with.”

  She smiled up at him. “I understand. I’m homesick too.”

  Homesick? He supposed it was true in at least one way—he would be sick unless he returned to Pardor—but that planet had never been his home.

  They continued down the street in silence, with Hanna darting interested glances around at the variety of wares on display. Despite its undesirable aspects, a lot of credits flew through Port Eyeja, and almost everything was for sale. Her eyes widened at the sight of a naked Tatvar reclining in an open window, a male drinking from each of her four nipples, their faces lost in ecstasy. The Tatvar, on the other hand, simply looked bored. A line of males waited their turn in front of the establishment.

  Two blocks later, Hanna almost stumbled to a halt when a snake-like male undulated his head out of another window.

  “Care for a bite, pretty lady? Guaranteed to bring pleasant dreams.”

  Aidon knocked the male’s head away and drew her closer.

  “What was that?” she asked, looking back over her shoulder.

  “Mogrol,” he said briefly. “Their bite is addictive.”

  More questions erupted as they continued down the street, but he found her wide-eyed curiosity entertaining. The short day was already turning to afternoon, but the pale sun had broken through the clouds, the air was crisp and cold, and he felt almost normal. Like any male escorting his female through town.

  That pleasant illusion disappeared as soon as they turned down the street leading to Chotgor’s opulent residence. He might only be renting the place, but he had already marked it with his presence. Large video screens on either side of the entrance gate displayed a continuous loop of famous fights. Hanna gasped as she watched a huge dark-skinned Sardoran launch himself through the air and bury a knife in the back of an even larger Chulun.

  Aidon turned to her and unwrapped one of the delicate gold chains from around her waist before fastening it to his cuff.

  “In here, you are my slave. Can you do that?” He heard her breath catch, but she nodded. “It’s not too late,” he added. “I can take you back to Njkall.”

  She took a deep breath, then lowered her eyes and bowed her head. “No, Master.”

  Even though he knew it was an act, her submissive posture called to all his innate dominance. His cock throbbed, and this time he didn’t attempt to force it down. Instead, he curved an arm around her slender waist and yanked her up against him, deliberately rubbing his erection against her soft body. Her eyes widened, and he waited for her to pull away.

  “Are you sure, pet?” he growled.

  “Yes, Master,” she repeated, and he caught the sweet tang of arousal deepening her already luscious scent. Fuck. His instincts urged him to carry her away from this wretched place and explore her interest in private, but he had made a commitment. He refused to think about the fact that this was the first time he had ever been tempted to break a contract.

  “Follow me,” he ordered, “but stay close. Tug on the chain if someone attempts to bother you.”

  She bit her lip and nodded, falling into place behind him, her fingers clenched in the fur of his cloak.

  Two guards waited outside the entrance. Both of them were Bukharan—big, brown-furred warriors with impressive horns and deadly hooves.

  “State your business,” one guard demanded, surveying Aidon rapidly, his eyes lingering on his expensive adornments.

  “Just looking for a little entertainment. So far, Port Eyeja has been somewhat of a disappointment.” He flipped a credit to each of them. “I heard that things are livelier here.”

  “Are you armed?”

  “Just a little knife.” He flipped back the cloak to show the large ceremonial dagger holstered around his waist. It was not, of course, his only weapon, but it was large and gaudy enough to divert attention.

  “No blaster?” the second guard asked suspiciously.

  “Never saw the need for them myself. I prefer to take care of things up close and personal.” He bared his teeth and took a step forward. The second guard bristled, but the first one laughed and shoved his companion back.

  “I think you’ll fit right in.” He flicked an appreciative glance at Hanna. “Is your slave armed?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Maybe I should examine her to make sure,” the second guard said, still giving Aidon a resentful glare.

  “No one touches my property,” he growled.

  The tension thickened between them, and this time the first guard didn’t seem inclined to intervene. Aidon’s hand dropped to the hilt of his knife, but before he could challenge the guard, Hanna stepped forward and threw back her cloak. Her slender body, barely covered with blue silk and chains, gleamed in the shadowed street. Both guards stared at her hungrily, and Aidon tightened his hand on the hilt of his knife, driven by a primitive impulse to cut out the eyes that dared to look upon his female.

  “I’m not armed,” she said quietly, and her soft voice reminded him of his purpose.

  “Cover up, pet. They’re not worthy of your beauty.”

  “Yes, Master,” she said obediently and pulled the cloak closed.

  The two guards were still staring at her, and he took advantage of their distraction to usher her through the doorway and into an arched entrance tunnel.

  “Well done, Hanna.”

  “It wasn’t worth fighting over—” Her voice came to an abrupt halt as they emerged on the other side of the tunnel and she took in the scene awaiting them.

  An enormous bonfire roared in the center of a large courtyard. Two males were wrestling in one corner, a small crowd yelling insults and advice. Nearby, three males were fucking a Xynic female, also surrounded by a vocal crowd. A long bar occupied one side of the courtyard, and drinks were flowing freely. Vid screens behind the bar showed a variety of fights, and he saw credits changing hands as the observers bet on the outcome. Two males shoved each other, and he caught the flash of a knife and a spurt of green blood before the loser collapsed and disappeared beneath the crowd. The cloying scent of landil weed hung heavy in the air.

  Hanna pressed close against his back, her fingers tangled in his cloak again. “I don’t think I’m in Kansas anymore.”

  He didn’t recognize the place, but he understood the sentiment. He had felt the same way the first time he had been introduced to the fighter lifestyle.

  “No, you’re not,” he said grimly. “Stay close. We need to find Chotgor.”

  While Hanna had been bathing, Njkall had reviewed the plans of the mansion with Aidon, as well as the security measures the Hothians had noted. If that information was correct, his quarry lay deep within the building. The usual pleasure of the hunt was dimmed by his concern for Hanna, but he still found himself grinning fiercely as he went in search of his prey.

  Hanna kept as close to Aidon as she could, her fingers clenched in the fur of his cloak. He strode confidently through the crowded courtyard, but there were enough occupants to slow his pace, and she peeped at her surroundings from under her eyelashes.

  Nothing in her admittedly limited experience had prepared her for this.

  Before her college career had been cut short by her aunt’s illness, she had once gathered up the courage to attend a fraternity party with a friend. When Aidon had said that this would b
e a drunken party, she had half expected something similar. And perhaps it was similar in some ways—if the fraternity brothers had been massive, aggressive aliens and sex and fighting had been on public display.

  Aidon paused to talk to another one of the bull-like guards. A female with blue-scaled skin sank to her knees, pulled out her owner’s two cocks, and proceeded to give him a blow job not more than two feet away from Hanna. She didn’t realize she was staring until she heard a coarse laugh and looked up to find the alien leering at her.

  “I got room for another one,” he laughed. The other female hissed as he reached for Hanna with a clawed hand.

  She yanked frantically on the chain attached to Aidon’s cuff. He turned with a growl, his knife appearing in his hand with almost magical speed before he pressed it against the other male’s throat.

  “You do not touch my property.”

  The alien raised his hands. “No offense intended. You interested in a swap? My slave’s got a mouth like a slargar trap.”

  Hanna looked over in time to see the look of despair crossing the blue female’s face and shivered. She suspected she had come very close to the same fate herself. She tried to give the other female a sympathetic look, but she only hissed again and returned to working the alien’s two cocks with feverish intensity.

  “No,” Aidon said as he holstered the knife. “This one is still in training, and I prefer to keep her attention focused on me. Perhaps another time.”

  His casual tone sounded forced to her, but it obviously satisfied the other male. He grinned and grabbed his female’s head, forcing her deeper.

  “Gotta train ’em up right,” he agreed with a satisfied groan.

  Aidon gave a noncommittal grunt as he moved off.

  “Can’t we—” Hanna started as soon as they were out of earshot.

  “Not now, pet,” he said abruptly, and she realized that they were approaching a giant set of doors at the rear of the courtyard. The doors stood open, but four guards surrounded the entrance. Once more, she and Aidon were examined and a few credits changed hands before they were allowed to enter.

  This room resembled a garish casino, all bright lights and clashing colors. Multiple game tables were spread throughout the room but, just as in the outer courtyard, sex was equally on display. A fight broke out next to one of the tables, and this time a guard appeared immediately, grabbed the two combatants, and threw them back outside. Even over the noise of the room, she heard a sharp crack and an aborted cry.

  “Is he here?” she asked softly, clutching Aidon’s cloak even more tightly.

  “One more barrier,” he muttered, “but we don’t want to appear too eager.”

  For the next thirty minutes, he wandered around the room with a deceptively casual air. She trailed behind him, almost tripping over his heels. Several of the males in the room eyed her speculatively, but they always backed off after a good look at Aidon. He lost a large handful of credits at a gaming table, won more on the outcome of a fight that was so brutal she had to close her eyes, and spent several minutes chatting with a bartender as he downed three drinks in rapid succession. When he stood up, he seemed to stagger, but she was quite sure that it was an act.

  As they headed back over to one of the gambling tables, a guard appeared.

  “Master Chotgor would like you to join him in his quarters.”

  “Oh yeah?” Aidon said belligerently. “I’m not doing anything wrong.”

  “Not at all,” the guard agreed. “He thinks the entertainment there might be more to your liking.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say so? Come along, pet.”

  They were one step closer to their goal, but as they turned to follow the guard, her stomach curled with dread.

  Chapter Six

  Hanna tried to keep from shaking as they followed the guard through two small antechambers. As they passed through the second doorway, a fine mist washed down over them. She shivered as the cool damp touched her skin, but Aidon ignored it, so she did as well.

  The final set of doors opened to reveal a completely different interior than she had been expecting. Here the lights were soft and soothing, the colors muted, and the fabrics quietly luxurious. The center of the room consisted of an ornate fountain dancing with sparkling lights. The ceiling over the fountain appeared to be wide open to the darkening sky, but the room was far too warm to actually be uncovered. A number of raised daises surrounded the edges of the room, and on the highest one, directly in front of them, lounged an enormous alien with gleaming pale-blue scales, giant tusks, and brilliant gold eyes. Even reclining, his size was obvious, and she suspected that he was at least a head taller than Aidon. This must be Chotgor.

  Aidon didn’t hesitate, heading for Chotgor with a slightly unsteady swagger. She followed meekly in his wake, keeping her eyes down, but she saw enough to realize that the surrounding platforms were also occupied by one or more big warriors and at least one female.

  Chotgor’s presence was so overwhelming that it wasn’t until Aidon came to a halt in front of him that Hanna saw the white-furred female kneeling at his side. This had to be Zemma. Unlike the male Hothians, her short fur flowed sleekly over an obviously female body. A jeweled belt circled curvy hips, and more jewels cascaded from her neck. The tips of the fur on her head were tinted a shocking pink, and Hanna suddenly remembered that Njkall had indicated that she was very young.

  “Welcome!” Chotgor’s voice boomed out. “I understand you’re looking for some entertainment.”

  Hanna could hear the hint of irony in his words, and she knew that Aidon must be able to as well, but he grinned and took them at face value.

  “Always looking for entertainment. Can’t say this godsforsaken planet has impressed me much so far.”

  “Then why did you come here?” Chotgor’s voice was still smooth and casual.

  “Eh. I was bored. Just picked up a new slave, and I heard I could see some good fights here.”

  “Are you a fighter? Or just an observer?”

  Hanna suspected the question bordered on insulting, but Aidon ignored it, baring his teeth at the other male in what could have passed for a grin.

  “I used to fight. I won a few fights and made enough credits that I decided to retire.” He shrugged. “Civilian life turned out to be less interesting than I expected. Still, it has its rewards.”

  Aidon threw off her cloak and casually cupped her breast. She managed to hide her shock and leaned compliantly into his touch.

  “Very nice. But she looks a little fragile for my taste.” Chotgor reached over and stroked Zemma’s head, and she, too, leaned into his touch, but Hanna caught a glimpse of her eyes, and they were far from compliant. “This is my latest. She knows how to take a real fucking.”

  “Mine is still in training, but I don’t have any complaints,” Aidon said, tightening his fingers around her nipple. She caught her breath and breathed into the exquisite pinch. His grip was just on the edge of pain, but it sent a spike of heat straight to her clit.

  “What name did you fight under?” The question appeared casual, but Hanna suspected it was anything but.

  Aidon shrugged. “They called me the Hitman.”

  Chotgor stared at him, then threw back his head and roared with laughter. “A few fights? It was a hell of a lot more than that. No wonder you looked familiar. I lost a lot of credits betting against you.”

  “You shoulda bet on me instead.” Aidon gave a cocky grin, and Chotgor laughed again before waving to the lounge next to his.

  “Have a seat. I’d like to know more about some of those fights.”

  Aidon threw himself casually on the reclining couch, and Hanna knelt immediately at his side, mimicking Zemma’s position. A plump, frightened-looking little alien came rushing over and offered them a tray of beverages. Aidon considered the options before choosing a goblet filled with golden liquid that smoked gently. He took a sip, then nodded appreciatively.

  “Foldaran brandy. Very nice.”
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br />   “I want the best, and I’m willing to pay for it.” Chotgor grinned, displaying even more teeth. “Unless I can get it for free, of course. This came from a trader who tried to cheat me. That’s his wife over there, servicing the Rarg.”

  Hanna barely managed to avoid looking, but when the conversation resumed over her head, she snuck a peek in that direction and saw a small female bent over one of the couches while a much larger male pounded into her from behind. God, she hated this place. She shivered, and Aidon’s hand cupped her breast again. Despite the obvious sexual nature of the move, she recognized it as an attempt to comfort her, and she nestled closer against his legs.

  When she looked over, Zemma was studying her intently from under her eyelashes. Since neither male appeared to be paying attention, she gave the other female a quick smile and saw her eyes widen. Aidon tugged on her nipple, and she realized that he had seen. She looked up at him, hoping her face was sufficiently devoted.

  “Yes, Master?”

  “Take a sip, pet.” He extended the goblet toward her.

  “You’re wasting Foldaran brandy on a slave?”

  Aidon shrugged. “I think she would be an amusing drunk.”

  Heeding the hidden warning in his words, she took the smallest sip possible, but even so, the warmth of the liquor filled her stomach and curled through her veins. She slumped against his legs and heard Chotgor laughing through a golden haze.

  “Not too amusing if she’s asleep.”

  Aidon laughed also and picked her up, tucking her between his legs. He was hard again, and she tried to wiggle against his erection, but her body didn’t want to respond. He placed her hand over his cock and held it there. Enough awareness penetrated her daze that she realized the move probably looked more aggressive than it felt. She tried to close her fingers around his shaft, but it was too large, and all she could do was knead it slowly as she drifted in and out of consciousness.