Abducted: Alien Mate Index Book 1: (Alien Warrior BBW Science Fiction Paranormal Romance) (The Alien Mate Index) (12 page)

That was because Tazaxx was a Gord—a species sexually incompatible with the descendants of the Ancient Ones. He kept his “special collection” in a zoo-like exhibit area—for display purposes only. Zoe would be put into a beautifully built case with all the luxuries her heart could desire and there she would spend her days, behind a force-field, being lovely and innocent for Tazaxx and his friends to admire.

It was where I hoped and prayed Sellah was now. Knowing that Tazaxx didn’t physically abuse or sexually violate those in his “special collection” was the only thing that kept me sane. I imagined my little sister in that gilt cage, behind the force-field, and then I pictured Zoe there, in her place.

I didn’t like either image.

So though my palms itched to caress Zoe’s curves and cup her full breasts…though I wondered more than once what her soft pink lips would taste like, I kept my hands to myself. I am, as I said before, no rapist. No matter how much she tempted me, I was determined to trade her to Tazaxx untouched.

But I couldn’t help watching her—she shone so brightly in the dimness of my ship. Like a star I had stolen from the heavens, though I had no right to do it.

Zoe

I don’t know how long we spent trying to get the food-sim to make anything decent to eat—it might have been a couple of hours. I
do
know the level of green Nutrient Slime in the gold pot had gone down considerably by the time I finally gave up.

By that time I had made bacon and eggs that tasted like pancakes and syrup, a t-bone steak that tasted like strawberry shortcake, a grilled cheese sandwich that tasted like chocolate pudding, and too many other things to count.

The closest I got to something edible was the pancake flavored bacon, but mostly because you eat those two things together a lot anyway. At last, I had to stop. I was determined to try again after Al worked on the program some more, but I was afraid I would make myself sick if I ate any more mixed up food.

Sarden didn’t seem bothered by the strange taste and texture combinations. He gamely tried everything I made, even the awful banana cream pie that tasted like sauerkraut.

I noticed he kept watching me as we worked and he got quiet once or twice but I counted it as a victory anyway. We were getting to be friends—well, sort of. And it’s a hell of a lot harder to trade your friends to some oily alien salesman than it is to trade away some girl you don’t even know.

Reverse Stockholm—I was sure it was working. Pretty sure, anyway. And I tried not to notice how those glowing gold eyes watching me made me feel. How when his fingers brushed my skin, even by accident, it sent shivers down my spine and made my nipples turn into tight little points.

Friendly or not, he was still the enemy. I might pretend to like him but that was all it was, I told myself sternly—just pretend. All an act to get him to care about me too much to trade me. And hopefully enough to get him to take me back to Earth.

At least we had this layover in the spaceport to look forward to. It would give us more time to spend together—more time for Sarden to get to know me. Maybe I should go even further and try to make him fall in love with me?

Maybe I should try to seduce him.

The thought made me shiver all over. Sarden was
huge
and I hadn’t been with anybody since I broke up with my ex almost a year ago. He’d probably split me in half if I tried something like that.

I tried to push the extremely scary thoughts to the back of my mind but the longer I was with him and the more I smelled his warm, spicy scent, the harder it got to do. I was almost relieved when he finally told me I should get some sleep.

“Being transported as you were is a very tiring process. You probably need to rest,” he told me as he walked me to the door of my room.

“All right.” I stopped beside the door and looked up at him, wondering what was going on behind those golden alien eyes. “I’m looking forward to trying out the floating hoverbed. We don’t have anything like that on Earth.”

“You want to go to bed, little Pure One?” His voice was a soft, deep growl that seemed to send tingles all though me.

“I…you know what I mean,” I stammered, feeling my cheeks get hot.

“Yes, I know,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair out of my eyes. “I just thought maybe you were interested to try the bed’s pleasure settings.”

I didn’t know what he meant by that but I shivered as his warm fingertips brushed my skin and then tried to pretend I hadn’t.

“I’m tired,” I said and it wasn’t a lie. Suddenly I felt as though all my energy was leaking away. It really
had
been a very long day—from getting staplers thrown at my head, to being dragged through the bathroom mirror into an alien space ship, to spending hours with Sarden trying to make food out of green slime. It was the longest and strangest day I’d ever had in my life and I was suddenly completely exhausted.

Being abducted by aliens really takes it out of a girl—out of me, anyway.

“Go to sleep then.” Sarden’s deep voice was almost a caress and I thought for a moment he was going to cup my cheek or stroke my hair. He raised his hand for a moment…but then he brought it back down to his side and clenched it tight instead.

“What about you?” I asked. “Are you, uh, going to bed too?”

He shook his head. “Not for a while. I have a lot to do before we reach Gallana.”

“The spaceport, right.” I nodded. “Um, do I get to go with you? I’ve never seen an alien spaceport before.”

“I don’t think so.” His face darkened. “You’d be a target there if anyone found out you were a Pure One. Especially if it was known you’re a
La-ti-zal.”

“I still don’t understand that,” I complained. “What does it even mean?”

“That you’re special,” he murmured and this time he did lift his hand to cup my cheek.

I felt my heart pounding and my face getting warm under his touch. God he smelled good! And he was so close I could feel the heat from his big body radiating against my own. I wondered what it would be like to be cuddled up in his arms…to kiss those cruel but sensual-looking lips…

“Very
special,” Sarden murmured again and he bent lower. Was he actually going to kiss me? Was I actually going to
let
him?

“Too…too special to trade, maybe?” I blurted, my stupid mouth talking without consulting my brain first. (This tends to happen to me a lot.)

At once, Sarden’s eyes went cold and he pulled back from me. He’d been leaning over so that we were almost eye-to-eye but now he drew himself up to his full height and glared down at me.

“No,” he said coldly. “Not too special for that.”

“But…but I thought…” I shook my head, knowing I was making it worse but unable to stop my big fat mouth from saying things I knew it shouldn’t. “We had fun today,” I said. “I mean, we talked, we got to know each other, we made food out of slime…it was
fun.”

“Very enjoyable,” he agreed but his face was still cold. “I’m sorry, Zoe, but no matter how much I enjoy your company or how beautiful you are, I’m still going to trade you. I have no choice.”

With that, he left me standing there, feeling like someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water over my head.

The big red jerk.

Zoe

I admit, I spent a couple of hours curled in a corner crying and poor-pitiful-me-ing after I got into my room that night. I had really thought I was making headway with Sarden—I thought he actually liked me. Hell, for a minute there when we were saying good night, I thought he did
more
than like me. I could still feel the heat of his big body radiating against mine, could still trace the line of warmth his hand had left on my cheek…

But it all meant nothing. He was determined to trade me no matter what and I was never going to get back home again. I was never going to have a cheeseburger that didn’t taste like chocolate éclair or a steak that didn’t taste like strawberry shortcake. There would be no more girl days with Charlotte and Leah, no more three-way bitch sessions on the phone, no more late night movie marathons. No more of a hundred thousand little things that had made up my life on Earth.

No more.

But a person can only cry so much. After a couple of hours when my eyes were all red and weepy and swollen, I finally took a deep breath and got hold of myself.

Back home, when I was miserable, I always took a hot shower and felt better afterwards. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option here. It was either get in the tank of purple liquid (no, no, and
Hell
no) or take a shower in the mister.

I chose the mister. After shedding the black temp-shirt, I turned the alien shower on and stepped into a cloud of cool mist which collected in chilly droplets that ran down over my bare skin.

Honestly, it wasn’t very good as showers go. I mean, I
was
able to get my body clean but I knew right away I wouldn’t be able to wash my hair in there. My curly mop is too dense to wash under anything but excellent water pressure which was pretty much the exact opposite of the mister.

But since I didn’t have any shampoo anyway, I decided not to bother. I twisted my hair into a thick knot at the nape of my neck and just concentrated on getting my skin clean.

After turning off the mister, I looked for something to dry off with. There were no towels that I could see but suddenly a blast of hot air surrounded me, coming from the same fine jets which had previously sprayed the water. It nearly knocked me off my feet but I put out my hands to brace against the wall and managed to stay upright. When the hot air finally subsided, I was dry.

“Whew,” I muttered to myself as I stepped out. “What is it with these people and the hot air on your sensitive areas?”

There was no answer forthcoming but I didn’t expect one. It was just another aspect of alien life I would have to get used to unless I could get back home.
All right, so let’s think about that,
I told myself.
How can I get home?

I pulled Sarden’s t-shirt back on, since I had nothing else to wear, and settled gingerly into the floating silver bed. It dipped and swayed dangerously as I scrambled in but once I was in place, it supported me beautifully. I thought it would probably be like sleeping on a cloud—only I had no intention of sleeping. Not tonight.

It was time to get serious.

Fact 1—I was on a spaceship headed away from Earth and I was getting farther away all the time.

Fact 2—Plan A had failed spectacularly.

Fact 3—I had only one option left, that I could see.

It was time for Plan B.

Reaching into the folds of the silver, floating beanbag bed, I withdrew the heavy length of pipe and the thick manacles. The manacles glowed a soft blue, the light in the center of the chain connecting them winking like a star.

I finally dared to touch it and when I did, the light changed from blue to green and both of the thick cuffs popped open with a soft chime. Hmm… I touched the light again—which was cool but buzzed and vibrated under my fingertip—and they snapped closed and the light turned blue. So
that
was how they worked. Good thing because I didn’t see any key to go with them.

I hefted the pipe in my hand and stared at it. Could I really go through with this? I’ve never been a violent person. I mean, I have a temper on me and I got in a pretty good fight once in fifth grade when Grace McLaughlin stole the charm bracelet my Granny had given me for my birthday and started telling everyone it was hers. But other than that, I’ve never been much of a fighter.

Well, it was time to change all that. The longer I waited, the further I got from Earth. It was time to turn this ship around and if Sarden wouldn’t do it, I would find a way myself.

Tucking the heavy, cold manacles under my shirt-dress to mask their glow, I held the pipe by my side and slipped out into the hall.

I had half expected to see Al somewhere watching me, but the artificial life form’s round lantern-eye was nowhere to be seen. The lights aboard the ship had been dimmed and the long metal corridor was filled with black shadows.

It was seriously creepy. My mind kept wanting to show me images and scenes from that
Event Horizon
movie my ex had made me watch—the horror scifi one where the people’s eyeballs explode. I really should have insisted on watching something else that night. You can bet I wouldn’t be having frightening flashbacks of Richard Gere and Julia Roberts having sex on the piano if I’d gotten my way and we had watched
Pretty Woman
instead.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed the scary images aside and slipped down the hall to stand in front of Sarden’s door.

Some time ago I had heard his door whoosh open and closed, so I knew he was in there. The question was—was he asleep? And was he deeply enough asleep for me to carry out my plan?

Well, only one way to find out.

Leaning forward, I broke the invisible beam and the door opened with a soft, almost silent
swish.
Inside it was very dark except for a tiny bit of light coming from the bathroom. As my eyes adjusted, I realized it was the purple liquid in the awful personal cleansing tank—it was glowing ever so faintly like a vast aquarium nightlight thing.

The light wasn’t much but it was enough for me to see Sarden’s large form sprawled across a vast silver beanbag bed. Like the one in my room, the bed was floating about three feet above the floor. Just the right height. I gripped the pipe tighter and stepped forward.

Sarden didn’t stir. He was lying on his back with his head turned to one side which was good. I had read in a self-defense book once that the best way to knock out your attacker with one blow was with a single hit to the temple. I planned to avoid his horns though—I wasn’t sure what hitting one of them might do to him and I wanted to knock him out, not kill him.

Sliding closer, I kept my left hand pressed to my belly to keep the manacles from clinking and raised the pipe in my right.

Then I hesitated.

It was really hard to do this—much harder than I’d expected. You spend your whole life from preschool up being told “don’t hit, don’t kick, don’t punch…be careful, don’t hurt anyone and if you
do
hurt someone, say you’re sorry!”