Abducted: Alien Mate Index Book 1: (Alien Warrior BBW Science Fiction Paranormal Romance) (The Alien Mate Index) (34 page)

No matter how many years pass, it still hurts.

As I watched Sarden examine my newly healed feet—and felt glad I’d had a recent pedicure before he’d abducted me—I thought that I’d like to spare him that pain.

The big alien, who had seemed like such a jerk at first, actually had a heart. The very fact that he’d comforted me and let me cry myself out against his chest without pulling away or making excuses said a lot about him in my opinion. I couldn’t remember the last time a guy had done that for me—Scott certainly hadn’t. Any display of emotion had made him intensely uncomfortable.

“C’mon, babe,”
he’d say if I even got a little teary.
“Enough with the waterworks—okay?”
And then I would have to try not to feel what I was feeling and just pretend everything was okay—which was probably one reason I was so good at keeping things light.

Sarden didn’t expect that of me. Even when we sniped at each other from time to time, he never demanded that I keep my feelings to myself. In fact, he even seemed to welcome them…

Speaking of keeping things light, that’s exactly what you’d better do with Sarden,
whispered a little voice in my head.
Stop getting all mushy and come back to reality. He still has to rescue his sister and you’re only along for the ride. Plus, the minute he gets her back, you’re headed straight back to Earth and you’ll never see him again.

I wondered why that thought made me feel so sad. But it didn’t matter—it wasn’t as though he’d want some Earth girl tagging along after him on his adventures through the galaxy.

Just keep it light,
I told myself again.
Try to do your part to get his sister back and don’t do anything crazy.

Right. Like fall in love. Because that would be the craziest, stupidest thing I could do. It was absolutely, positively out of the question.

So why did I have a feeling I was already falling?

Zoe

“Not bad. Not bad at all.” Sarden surveyed me with apparent satisfaction—satisfaction I didn’t exactly share. The ‘disguise’ he had put me in was pretty much the exact opposite of the Ma
jor
an dress I had worn on Gallana. Instead of exposing my goodies, it covered everything
and I do mean
everything.

Don’t get me wrong—I wasn’t complaining about not being naked. Or mostly naked, anyway. But the bulky black clothes he’d had Al synthesize for me were heavy and hot. They consisted of a shapeless, long-sleeved shirt, thick trousers, and as if all that wasn’t enough—a cape.

I mean, really? A
cape?

“I’m not wearing the cape,” I said, frowning at myself in the 3-D viewer thingy. “I’m not freaking Batman.”

“The cape probably isn’t necessary,” Sarden agreed.

I was pleasantly surprised that he was giving in so easily.

“Great! Then just give me a pair of dark glasses to hide my eyes and I’m ready to go.”

He frowned. “We need to hide your hair as well. It’s so red it really stands out.”

“Says the man who has red
skin
,” I pointed out.

“Which is normal for a Vorn, even if it’s not for an Eloim,” he said. “But your combination of pale, silky skin with such a profusion of red hair is unusual—
and
desirable.”

“Is that what this is about? Look at me in this get-up.” I spread my arms, indicating my bulky, be-caped figure. “Do I look desirable to you?”

Sarden’s golden eyes suddenly went half-lidded.

“Always, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I find you
extremely
desirable, which I think I’ve made clear in the past.”

“I didn’t mean…I mean, I wasn’t fishing for compliments,” I said, feeling my cheeks go hot at the way he was looking at me. “I just meant, I don’t think anyone is going to be lusting after me while I’m wearing a baggy sweatshirt and a freaking Batman cape. That’s all.”

“I know what you mean, but I disagree.” He frowned. “You really have no idea of your own beauty, do you?”

“I, um…” I didn’t know what to say about that. When you’ve been called “chubby” and “chunky” and been freckled and short and pretty much the exact opposite of what society says is beautiful, like I had all your life, it’s hard to get a sense of your own “beauty.”

“Luckily,
I
do,” Sarden continued evenly. “Which is why I had Al synthesize
this.”
He pulled something from behind his back and I stared at it in disbelief.

“No,” I said at last, when I could talk. “No
way
am I wearing that thing.”

Sarden arched an eyebrow at me.

“Then I guess you’re not coming with me.”

“What? But I did everything you asked. Look, just give me a scarf to wear over my hair or something. But not
this—
how will I even breathe in it?”

I gestured at what he was holding out to me—a mask. But not just any mask—this thing would cover my entire
head
. It looked a little like those caricature rubber masks that bank robbers use to protect their identity when they’re committing the crime of the century.

And wearing this thing would certainly be a crime. It wasn’t just ugly—it was
hideous.

Green, pebbled skin that reminded me of an alligator’s hide, black, compound eyes like a fly, and pointy, Shrek-like ears stared back at me. The mouth was a small, blue wrinkled hole and the nose wasn’t even a nose—just two flat nostril slits.

“What is this even supposed to
be?”
I asked Sarden. “It’s awful.”

“It’s a Grubbian,” he said patiently. “They’re one of the few sentient species as small as you Earthlings. Also, they’re traders, known to frequent the outer ports. You’ll fit right in with this on.”

“I’ll
smother
with this on,” I protested.”

“It’s very comfortable— made out of a special smart-fabric. I ran a shipment of it for a rich merchant in the Acanthion system last cycle and kept a bolt back for myself. Thought it might come in handy.
”
He grinned at me. “It’s illegal in most systems, you know.”

“Great,” I grumbled. “So now you’re trying to make an intergalactic criminal out of me.”

“Oh, you’ll see plenty of criminals in the Giedi Prime port—but only if you wear this.”

He nodded at the mask and frowned at me. With a sinking feeling, I understood he wasn’t going to let up until I put the damn thing on. And he said
I
had a one track mind!

“All right—
fine.”
Gathering my hair into a loose, messy bun at the nape of my neck, I pulled the weird Grubbian mask over my head.

I had expected the closed in, claustrophobic sensation and the weird, plasticky smell of a Halloween mask
.
I was pleasantly surprised though—the mask was completely breathable so I didn’t get the feeling I was suffocating. I could tell something was over my face, but it was more like a thin piece of fabric or gauze—the same sensation I imagined I would feel if I was just wearing a veil draped over my head.

“Well?” Sarden asked.

“All right.” I sighed. “It’s not
awful.
But won’t it look weird, me not having any facial expressions. I mean, unless, uh, Grubbians just walk around stone-faced all day.”

“Oh, you have expressions, all right,” he remarked. “Every time your face moves, so does the mask. Even the tiniest twitch is relayed to the smart-fabric.”

“Smart-fabric, huh?” I murmured.

“See for yourself,” he gestured at the 3-D viewer again.

I looked at it, taking in my weird new appearance and wrinkled my nose.

The ugly green mask wrinkled its nose too—well, the nostril slits did, anyway.

“Hey!” I didn’t know whether to be horrified or delighted. I settled for a mixture—hor-lighted?—and made another face which the mask copied perfectly.

I winked my eyes—the big, black bug eyes of the mask winked back. I waggled my eyebrows and the brow-ridges of the mask did the same. I stuck out my tongue—the mask did too. Only the mask’s tongue was long and thin and
blue.
Amazing.

Sarden let loose a deep, rumbling laugh and I realized I was acting like a fool. But honestly, it was so cool—I couldn’t help myself.

“Okay,” I said, looking up at him. “This is pretty awesome. I mean, it’s ugly as sin but I like it anyway.”

He raised an eyebrow at me.

“So you’ll wear it with no more complaining?”

“No more complaining,” I promised. “This is going to be
fun
.”

“Zoe…” He put a hand on my shoulder and looked at me intently, suddenly completely serious. “All joking aside, the station on Giedi Prime is damn dangerous. There are going to be males there who would cut you to pieces and use you for bait for a
xanthun
hunt without a second thought. So be careful when we’re down there and never get too far from me. All right?”

His words made me feel like someone had dumped a bucket of ice cubes into the pit of my stomach.

“Okay,” I said, in a much more subdued voice. “I got it. I’m just there to gather information and I won’t get too far from you.”

“Good.” He nodded. “Now here’s what to listen for…”

Zoe

I scanned the dim, smoky area of the VIP lounge carefully, trying to stay to the shadows and look unobtrusive. Not that I stood out at all. Even with my ugly-ass mask on, I was by far one of the least noticeable people in the big, weird room.

There was a kind of round, circular bar at the center of the lounge that was made of what looked like bones. What kind of bones, I didn’t know and didn’t want to find out. The ivory of alien femurs and tibias and scapulas and whatever the other bones were gleamed in the dim, hazy light. Whoever or whatever it was that had donated the raw material for the grisly bar must have been big though—freaking huge. Most of the aliens sitting around the bone bar were Sarden’s size or even bigger and not all of them were humanoid, but none of them looked like they had bones big enough to make such massive furniture out of.

Well,
almost
none of them. Far at the end of the bar was a creature the size of an elephant, taking up three of the bone bar stools at once with his wrinkled, purple behind. He spoke in a voice so low I felt it as a trembling vibration in the air and seemed to be having a conversation with the bartender—who had three faces and was speaking with several other customers at the same time.

Beside the purple elephant man sat a thin woman—I
thought
it was a woman, anyway—wearing an elegant fur bikini which barely covered her three gigantic breasts. She had light green skin and was smoking the longest, thinnest cigarette I had ever seen. It must have been three feet long and the smoke coming out of it changed colors occasionally, from pink to purple to dark, cerulean blue.

Sarden was working the other end of the lounge, casting an occasional glance in my direction. I was keeping to the fringes of the crowd, listening as best I could while I pretended to drink a weird, fizzing concoction that didn’t look too different from the liquid in the healing foot bath he had used on me. I couldn’t really taste it through the mask but I pretended to suck it up through the long, tube-like, blue tongue, which was how Sarden had told me Grubbians drank.

A band played in the corner—making loud, unpleasant squawking sounds on bagpipe-looking instruments that appeared to be growing out of the musicians’ bodies. I wondered if we were being serenaded by their burps and coughs and other bodily noises—that was certainly what it
sounded
like, anyway.
Ugh
.

Honestly, if this was the VIP lounge, I would hate to see the regular one. It really wasn’t a very pleasant place at all. But then, I wasn’t there for pleasantries. I needed to collect information and I was hot on the trail of someone I thought might have some.

He was a big son-of-a-bitch—even bigger than Sarden, I estimated, though not quite in the same league as the purple elephant man. I had only seen him from behind because he was hunched over the bar with his head down, saying something into a communications device gripped in one big hand. His skin was a dusky blue, the color of the sky at twilight when the sun is just starting to sink, and he was wearing black leather trousers and a leather vest to match, which left his massive, muscular arms bare.

Between the bass rumblings of the elephant man and the strange, unmusical sounds coming from the “band” in the corner of the large room, it was hard to hear anything. But I was absolutely positive I’d heard the big blue guy say, “Tazaxx” into his phone-thingy. Trying to be quiet and unobtrusive, I crept closer.

“No, don’t know if she’s here or not,” he was growling to whoever he was talking to. “I’ll have to do recognizance and it won’t be easy—Tazaxx doesn’t let anyone into his compound without a damn good reason. Fuckin’ asshole.”

There it was again! I was
certain
I’d heard the name this time! I snuck even closer…and that was the moment when a drunk alien with two heads bumped into me.

“Oh, ‘scuse me. Pardon me!” one head said, nodding a drunken apology.

“Watch where you’re going! Clumsy Grubbians!” the other one barked. Apparently he was an angry drunk, even if the other head wasn’t.

“Sorry,” I muttered, because I just wanted him to move along and let me listen some more. But that wasn’t good enough for the two headed guy.

“Do you even know who you’re speaking to?” the second head demanded, looking down his long nose at me.

“Uh, Zaphod Beeblebrox?” I said, hazarding a guess.

“What
did you call me?” the second head demanded. “Is that some kind of insult?”

“How
dare
you insult my brother?” the first head asked, getting into the act now.

Oh, so they were
brothers?
That must be awkward on dates. Not that having two heads was ever going to be simple.

“Look, I wasn’t trying to be insulting. It was a joke and not a very good one.” I made what I hoped was a placating “calm down” gesture with one hand. “Why don’t we just forget about it and go our separate ways?”

“Such an insult can never be forgotten or forgiven!” The second head proclaimed. He shoved me with one of his three arms (did I mention the three arms?) and my drink flew out of my glass and landed on the back of the big, blue alien’s head, dousing his black, skull-cut hair with fizzing blue.