Abducted: Alien Mate Index Book 1: (Alien Warrior BBW Science Fiction Paranormal Romance) (The Alien Mate Index) (9 page)

“I am.” She looked suddenly sad. “I wish it was you up there with me, though. I don’t want to rule with Hurxx—come to that, I don’t want to rule at
all.”

“I know, little Sellah—always got your head buried in your books and you don’t give a damn about the outside world. But the planet has to have a female of the blood as well as a male of the blood to prosper.”

“I know, but you’d be better at it than Hurxx—you know you would.”

“Hurxx is purebred Eloim and I’m not—you know that,” he said flatly. “The people would never—”

“What in the Frozen Hells of Anor do you think you’re doing in my room?”

The muted roar from behind me almost made me drop the crystal cube. As it was I fumbled with it comically and barely managed to clutch it to my chest. Then, just when I thought I had it, it squirted out from between my fingers and dropped like a rock to the metal floor below.

Or it would have if Sarden’s long fingers hadn’t reached out with surprising speed and delicacy and plucked it out of the air.

He pressed something on it that cut off the scene and made it go cold and blank again. Then he spun me around and glared at me.

“I said
what are you doing in my room?”

“You…I…you said I could go anywhere,” I blurted. “I was just exploring. I didn’t know this was your room.”

Which was true—I hadn’t actually known but I
had
hoped.

“I would
think
that a desk full of very personal objects would give you a clue about that,” he snarled. “Are all Earthlings this rude and nosey or is it just
you?”

“I’m s-sorry,” I said, trying not to be scared and failing. When he did that glaring thing where his eyes got all glowy he looked positively terrifying. Think—I had to think!
Remember the plan—plan A!
whispered a little voice in my head.

“Um, was that your sister?” I asked, nodding at the cube which he still cradled protectively in one hand. “She’s really pretty.”

“Yes, Sellah is my sister—not that it’s any of your business,” he growled. “What of it?”

“Nothing. It’s just that…I had a sister once, too. Her…her name was Angie.”

My sister’s name stuck in my throat. Still, even after all these years, it was hard to talk about her. But I had to try and make a connection with him.
Reverse Stockholm,
I reminded myself fiercely.
It’s the only way you’re getting out of here!

Sarden’s response was less than enthusiastic.

“Good for you,” he growled. “So you have a sibling. It doesn’t give you the right to go rifling through my things.”

“And what gave you the right to buy me and kidnap me?” I demanded, losing my temper. “What gave you the right to take me away from my entire planet and bring me on this God-forsaken ship where the toilets try to eat you?”

“What?” He stared at me as though I wasn’t making any sense. Well, maybe I wasn’t but at that point I was so mad I didn’t even care. Even though he was huge and muscular and scary, my anger had erased my fear—at least for the moment. Who was he that he thought he could just buy me and steal me away from my ho-hum life and crappy job back on Earth? What the hell was wrong with him?

“What would your sister think of you now?” I demanded, seizing on the only thing I could think of—the only piece of emotional leverage I could find. “What would she say if she knew what you were doing?”

Yet again, I seemed to have said the exact wrong thing. Or maybe it was the right thing, I don’t know—but the consequences were the same. Sarden seemed to grow even bigger somehow, his face turning dark as he glared at me. Had I thought he looked scary before? It was nothing to how he looked now. Still, I stood my ground and refused to back down, even though my heart was thumping and my palms were sweating with terror.

For a moment we just stared at each other. And if you’ve never had a staring contest with a seven foot tall guy who looks like a sexy Devil and could break you in half with his pinky finger, let me tell you—I don’t recommend it. Finally, though, Sarden spoke.

“My sister,” he said in a low, grating voice. “Is the reason I took you.”

“What?” I shook my head. “What are you talking about?”

“Never mind.” He made a sharp gesture with one hand. “I’ll excuse your intrusion in my room this once on the grounds of ignorance. But never come in here again.
Never.”

“Fine.” I lifted my chin. “I was just leaving, anyway.”

“Go back to your room,” he ordered. “And don’t leave again. I won’t be so lenient next time.”

As if there would be a next time. It looked to me like plan A wasn’t panning out—maybe it was time to consider plan B.

“Fine,” I said again. But just as I turned to leave, Al glided into the room, his snaky metal neck sailing smoothly through the metal ceiling as though it was silver water.

“Ah, Master Sarden,” he said sounding pleased. “I’m glad to see you found Lady Zoe. Did you invite her to dine with you, as you had intended?”

I turned around and raised an eyebrow at Sarden.

“Dine? We’re
dining
now?”

“I thought you might be hungry,” he said, still scowling. “There’s time to get something to eat while A.L. runs a diagnostic on the hydrogen scoop.”

“The food prep area can simulate almost any human delicacy you desire,” Al put in helpfully. “I have been making a study of your Earth cuisine—though I could only devote a small portion of my processing algorithm to it. I hope you will find the results pleasing.”

“Thank you, Al. You’re by far the most courteous person on this ship,” I said, staring at Sarden pointedly.

Sarden frowned, ignoring my jibe. “Why do you call him that? His designation is
A.L.
which stands for artificial life form.”

“As to that, Master Sarden, I have been meaning to ask you to call me by my new name,” Al told him.

“What?” Sarden looked startled. “You have a name now? Who said you could have a name?”

“Lady Zoe was kind enough to name me,” Al said promptly. “I am named Alfred but Al for short. Apparently it is a good butler name—a butler is one who serves on Earth. And the name still goes with my designation of A.L. Is it not fitting?”

For a moment, Sarden looked like he was going to protest. Then he shook his head as though he just couldn’t deal with this right now. “Fine. Al is fine, if that’s what you want.”

“It is. I find I enjoy having a name and not just a designation.” Al sounded happy again, in his proper butler way.

“Great. Well…” Sarden looked at me. “Do you want to eat or not?”

“That depends.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I thought I was going to be confined to my room.”

“Confined to her room? Oh no—why would you refuse Lady Zoe the freedom of the ship?” Al now sounded properly horrified. I was liking the artificial life-form more and more all the time.

Sarden didn’t answer, instead he glared at me.

“I’ll give you one more chance to behave,” he growled. “Don’t pry into my life or my business and I’ll let you have the run of the ship. But one more incident and you’re going into your room and staying there until we get to Giedi Prime.”

“Sounds like somewhere out of a Frank Herbert novel,” I said. “But fine. I’ll stay out of your room.” Which wasn’t exactly the same as not prying—I was still determined to do plenty of that. I had hit a nerve with his sister, I was certain. And he’d said she was the reason he’d taken me. I had to find out more about that—I had the feeling it was the key to my freedom. But for now, I would let it drop.

For now.

“Fine,” Sarden growled. “Then let’s eat.”

He turned and left the room and I followed him, with Al whizzing along by my side, his lantern-eye blinking.

Sarden

I tried to control my irritation as I led Zoe down the corridor and into the food prep area. How dare she go snooping around my room, rifling through my private things? I was especially irritated by the fact that she’d gotten me to reveal my relationship with Sellah. It was none of her business, damn it! And she shouldn’t have touched my memory cube!

Seeing the little Pure One handle the precious crystal cube I’d stored so carefully in my desk had nearly turned me feral. It was the best memory I had of my sister, although I hadn’t been able to bear to listen to it in a long time. But when I walked in my room, there Zoe was—playing it as though my most private, cherished memories were hers for the taking.

But even worse than the invasion of my privacy was hearing Sellah’s voice. Her sweet tones were like a blade piercing my heart. My beloved, innocent little sister now lost, possibly forever…

No!
I shoved the thought aside. Sellah wasn’t lost forever—she couldn’t be. I was going to get her back, Gods damn it! No matter what depths I had to sink to in order to do it.

But I couldn’t help feeling a flash of guilt when I remembered Zoe’s words.
“What would your sister think of you now?”
she’d
asked.
“What would she say if she knew what you were doing?”

I had the uncomfortable feeling that Sellah wouldn’t like it one damn bit.

Trying to shrug off the thought, I turned my attention to the task at hand—teaching Zoe how to use the food-simulator.

The little Pure One would be gone from my life soon enough, I told myself. Though she looked distractingly lovely, dressed as she was in my shirt and nothing else so that all her ample curves were on display, I was determined to ignore her. Ignore her loveliness and the guilt I was tempted to feel when I got too near her.

As soon as the diagnostic was run and the panels of the hydrogen scoop were fit to travel, I would take her straight to Giedi Prime and trade her to Tazaxx.

Before she could worm her way any further under my skin.

Zoe

So here’s the deal with simulated food—if you ever get a chance to try it, don’t. Just don’t, okay?

It started out all right. Sarden seemed to have simmered down a little which was good. Being around him when he was pissed off was kind of like walking into the middle of a thunderstorm, wondering when the lightning was going to strike. But Sarden calm was not so bad—even if he did still look huge and scary.

First he showed me into the kitchen—excuse me, the
food prep
area—and proceeded to explain how the food-simulator worked. The food-sim, as he called it, was the big gold stock pot looking thing I’d seen earlier when Al took me on my short tour. The one with all the wires coming out of it.

As it turned out, the wires all had sticky pads attached to them and they were supposed to be placed at just the right spot on your temples so the food-sim could read your thoughts and know what to make you.

“Why can’t I just
tell
it what to make?” I asked as Sarden pressed one of the sticky pads to his left temple.

“You are telling it—with your mind. You can provide a much more complete idea of whatever it is you’re telling the sim to make, including taste, texture, and smell, by sending direct thought messages to its processing unit,” he explained.

“So once you think what you want it appears in the pot?” Without waiting for an answer, I took the lid off the big gold pot and recoiled. “Ewww!” It was about two thirds full of green slime that looked an awful lot like snot.

I’m sorry—I know that’s gross, but I have to be honest. That’s what it looked like.

“You’re not supposed to remove the lid until the food-sim is finished,” Sarden snapped, snatching the lid back from me. “Are you paying attention? You’d better be because I don’t have time to make food for you and even if I did, I doubt you’d like the cuisine from my home world.”

“I doubt I’d like
any
cuisine that’s snot-based,” I said, fighting not to gag. “What’s
in
that pot, anyway?”

“Nutrient slime—the raw material from which all foods are simulated, of course,” he said impatiently, as though it should be obvious.

“So…the food-sim uses this stuff…” I pointed at the green slime. “To make things to eat? And then you actually
eat
them?”

“I’m beginning to wonder if the transport process from your planet affected your mind after all,” he growled. “Of
course
you eat them. What else would you do with food?”

“Throw it away if it was made of green slime,” I remarked. Not that I’m a super picky eater—one look at my hips and you’d know that. But a girl has to have some limits.

“The finished food product doesn’t retain any of the texture or flavor of the nutrient slime,” he said, frowning. “Watch.”

Putting the lid back on the pot, he closed his eyes and pressed his fingers to the pad at his temple. He looked like he was thinking really hard about a difficult math problem. I was beginning to wonder how long this whole process took when the food-sim made a small, discrete chime that sounded like someone ringing a fancy door bell.

“There.” Opening his eyes, Sarden took the lid off again and a puff of fragrant smelling steam escaped the pot.

I looked in. It was still filled two-thirds full with green slime but a small platform, which was completely slime free, had risen up from the center of the pot. On it sat a clear plate that might have been plastic or glass—I couldn’t tell. On the plate was something that looked like a blue spaghetti sandwich. By which I mean that the bread-like stuff it was wrapped in was blue. The spaghetti itself was red and yellow with black specs I took to be some kind of pepper.

“Perfect.” Sarden nodded with satisfaction and lifted the plate out of the pot. Picking up the sandwich, he took a large bite. “Delicious,” he declared after swallowing.

“It doesn’t look
too
bad,” I conceded. “I mean the coloring is a little weird and having a bread and pasta combo like that is a
lot
of carbs, but it smells good.”

“What is pasta?” he asked before taking another bite.

“That stuff—the long skinny noodles you’re eating. On Earth we make it from wheat. What do your people make it from?”

“We don’t make it at all—this is
churn.
We catch them in the Great Depths.”

“The
what
now?” I frowned, not sure I understood him.