Rykhan (Book 1 of Mate Search Series) (20 page)

“
You wouldn’t have. But
protestors were at the site when the
Searcher’s
mission commenced, even
though it was a small contingent.” Gwynt cleared his throat. “They
have since attracted quite a following.”

“Has anyone ascertained who is stirring them
up? A leader?” Bronsyn’s mind raced over the different members of
the Herald senate when President Allwyne had activated the
holograms of the women seeking men from Earth’s internet. To his
memory, he could not recall any of the esteemed senators being
anything other than mesmerized by what they had all seen. Each had
seemed jubilant with the hope those images represented. From what
communicated to him, it had been the same for the Nutrolian
Committee as well.

“Not to my knowledge,” Gwynt replied with a
heavy sigh. “Although it’s still being investigated though not as
thoroughly and as swiftly as I would like.”

“How many are involved, do you know?” Bronsyn
knew from his experience in the Picari Protectorate, once a protest
rally attracted enough participants, warriors would be deployed to
maintain safety for both the dissidents and their
opposition.

“At launch there were less than twenty-five.
Now? The rallies include thousands in every major city on Galaxia.
And they’ve even begun springing up on Nutrol although not with as
many attending.” Gwynt rubbed his eyes before continuing. “As I
said, their platform of pure bred not hybrid is gaining
momentum.”

“What is the government’s stance on this? Have
they formally made any statements or taken a position regarding the
proposed Picari/Earth younglings?” Bronsyn could not imagine
President Allwyne agreeing to such misguided thinking, not since
the supreme leader of Galaxia had been the biggest champion of the
quest.

“Not from either Allwyne or from my own leader,
Smyrta. But we probably shouldn’t expect a response, not if the
protests remain peaceful and no writ has been submitted for
consideration by either of our governing bodies.” Gwynt’s shrug
seemed to indicate there was nothing anyone could do in the face of
legal demonstrations, even if the ideology behind them was
ridiculous. “Plus we’re not even sure if the Picari life force can
combine with a human’s egg. Until we are certain, it might all be a
moot point. Do you know if your warrior has tried to join with his
female yet?”

“I haven’t asked,” Bronsyn replied slowly.
Actually, it would have been more truthful to answer ‘I don’t want
to know’. Where he came from, no one openly discussed physical
intimacy outside of the couple themselves. Although he knew the
Nutrolians, as an agrarian society, held a different view. “Also,
it must be noted that the majority of the females of childbearing
age are encouraged to employ devices and medicines to prevent
conception, at least on the land mass where we arrived.”

“I’ve never heard of such a thing!” Gwynt shook
his head as if to reject the very idea of any species taking
measures to prevent pregnancy. “Why would they do that?”

“It’s still under research.” Bronsyn decided
not to share what information he had gleaned. Perhaps because he
still could not believe it himself. In his experience, no female
found pleasure in joining with a male nor actively sought out the
experience. However, if he followed the logical line of his
investigation, the females of Earth took an active role in the
mating process.

Turning his mind away from what he still could
not accept, Bronsyn brought up the second reason for his impromptu
call. “With the growth of the warrior’s mark, I feel it is
important to reveal our mission to Rykhan’s female. Perhaps with
her and her friend’s assistance, we can determine a more successful
and swifter ways in reaching our mission’s goal.”

“Agreed.” Gwynt replied with a nod. “I will
inform the Committee members of my approval and of news that one of
our warriors has found his mate.”

“Will you also tell of the
female’s
wahrom
?”

Gwynt’s eyes narrowed and Bronsyn waited,
uneasy with how long it took his friend and Committee leader to
answer. “I think I’ll hold onto that knowledge for yet a while. In
the meantime, see if she will allow you to photographic it and
stream it to me. I’d like a chance to study her warrior’s
mark.”

Bronsyn swallowed thickly. Why did Gwynt need
evidence? Was not Bronsyn’s description enough? As a loyal Picari
though, he could give no other answer other than his normal, “as
you wish.”

The conversation rankled long after
Bronsyn had signed off. Protests against potential younglings, the
future of their race? Females who prevented pregnancy? Pictures
needed in order to provide proof of
Tsiran’s
acceptance of a Picari/Earth
pairing.

It was too much to think of at once.

Especially since he had to determine how best
to inform Rykhan’s Leah that the man she had been seeing was from
another star system. By what Bronsyn had discovered, humans did not
like the notion of other life in their galaxy except for
entertainment purposes.

How was the female going to react when she
learned that her world’s idea of make-believe was actually
true?

*.*.*.*.*

“Okay, okay…settle down,” Pam yelled over the
cacophony of male voices, using her hands in a downward motion to
signal her intent. “One more time, fellas. Give me your name and
I’ll help you find the American equivalent.” Pointing to the man
standing with an elbow on one of the bookshelves, the one with the
darkest skin, which complemented his long, shiny black hair and
snapping dark eyes, Pam announced, “You first.”

“Tyshar Rell,” the low grumble
proclaimed.

Leah had never heard such deep voices as heard
this afternoon at the house.

“Hmm. Ti-shar doesn’t quite…” her voice trailed
off as she peered at the ceiling of the large living room they’d
adjourned to after the warriors had cooked and then serve a
wonderful though simple lunch out in the outdoor kitchen. “How do
you spell it?”

The man gave her a blank look and before he
could answer, Pam started giggling.

“Don’t worry about spelling it. I got it!”
Pam’s eyes took on a smile as bright as the one that lit her lips.
“Ty. Okay? We’re gonna pronounce it as ‘tie’.”

“Isn’t that what a male wears around his neck
with a suit?” Wyst leaned over her shoulder as he asked his
question.

“Yeah? And?” Pam challenged, twisting to look
up at the handsome though mouthy man she leaned against. “You gotta
problem with that?”

“It’s just you didn’t change my name in the
least,” came the reply, offered so softly that Pam knew it was
meant for her and her ears alone.

She smiled sweetly, blinking up at Wyst before
turning back around and wiggling into his chest. Pam knew she was a
grade ‘A’ cuddle-slut who was always happiest when ensconced next
to a gorgeous and built man. Meaning that now, she was almost in
heaven. “Though it’s spelled different than ‘West’, it’s still a
great name. And if Ty’s not objecting, then why should
you?”

“Point taken, pixie,” he murmured his mouth so
close to her skin that she shivered.

“Who’s next?” she called and the warrior who
she thought might be the youngest raise his hand.

“Laxon Satyl.” Dark red crept into the
warrior’s creamy countenance while only speaking his name. He was a
true redhead and had the beautiful skin to make it work.

“Gosh, another tricky one,” she groaned. “Give
me a second to think about it, all right?” Her eyes closed and she
silently repeated his name before allowing sound to escape as she
worked through the syllables. “Lac-shawn Say-tell.”

Everyone waited as she repeated it like a
mantra, saying it repeatedly only adding the accents in different
places each time.

Snapping her fingers, Pam sat straight up
before speaking. “It’s perfect for you and I know you’re gonna love
it.”

The younger yet still brawny man who had
quickly grabbed one of the corners in the sectional sofa seemed to
hold his breath as he waited for his ‘Americanized’
name.

“From henceforth on, ye shall be known as
‘Sean’,” Pam intoned in as deep a voice as she could manage, which
had everyone in the room laughing. Dropping her act, she nodded
towards the young warrior with the auburn braid and leaf green
eyes. “Do you like it?”

“I do, very much,” he replied with a smile and
a deep blink of his blonde tipped lashes.

“Great!” Turning back to Wyst she announced, “I
think I may have found my calling.”

“Which would be?”

“Naming people, dude! Geesh, stick with the
program, okay?” She was having so much fun Pam felt as if she’d
lost her place in the whole scheme of it all. “Wait! Let’s do a
recap to see where we are.”

Pointing a finger to where Rykhan and Leah sat
eating since they had skipped out earlier and totally missed lunch,
she called out, “Ryk”, hearing the other voices in the room echo
the word. “Not Ricky, not Richard, but good ol’, plain ol’ American
Rick!” Casting her eyes around the men in various stages of
relaxation around her, again she called out, “R-y-k!”

“Ryk!” the multi-voiced group
yelled.

Pointing a finger over her head and behind her,
she yelled, “West! W-y-s-t, Wyst!”

“Wyst!” Their shout was so loud Pam could feel
the floor bounce beneath her feet.

Turning her head and shoving a thumb to where
the dark hair man stood against the bookcase, she cried out,
“Ty!”

“Ty!”

“All right and well done!” She cooed, in a much
softer voice. “So who’s this guy again?” Pam’s eyes turned to the
last man she’d named, the one whose name had given her so much
trouble as she tried to find an American one.

“Sean!” the young man shouted with clenched
fists. “I am Sean of the Picari Protectorate. Hear me and be
afraid. Be very, very afraid human females!”

Pam blinked as the other men and even Leah
laughed at Laxon’s joking. However, to her mind, something about it
was just the tiniest bit…off. She knew he meant it to be funny, but
a man should never have to warn a woman away by telling her to be
afraid, right? And what was that shit about ‘human
females’?

She pushed the dark thought away and
straightened a bit. “Two last ones, huh?”

“Three if you include Bronsyn,” Wyst corrected
from behind her.

Waving a dismissive hand, Pam made a rude
noise. “Naw, Bronsyn is a great name just as it is,” and shot a
grin to the older man who had just arrived. Seating himself on one
of the other sofas, he acknowledged her words with a
nod.

“Me! I want to go next,” the largest man of the
group bellowed. Sitting on the floor with his back against a
portion of the u-shaped sectional, he appeared to be relaxed at
first glance. Pam let her eyes roam over the sheer size of him and
noticed his tensed jaw and clenched fists. “My name is Arbrynt
Llow.”

“Dude, from what I can see, there ain’t nothing
‘low’ about you,” which brought another round of laughter from the
group because it was true. Of all the men in attendance, the blonde
Arbrynt was both the tallest and the broadest. His features were
not classically handsome but were more on the brutish side though
there was something about his looks that Pam admitted was
definitely intriguing. “Is Brent okay with you?”

A deep nod from the man was all the reply given
and she marked him as one of the quieter ones in the
group.

She looked to the last of the warriors and
cocked an eyebrow. “Last but not least, you are…”

“Gyard Trag,” came the deep rumble that Pam
could swear came from around the man’s knees. To her way of
thinking, there was bass, then there was baritone, and that guy’s
voice was the deepest she’d ever heard.

“Gee-yard…Gee-yard,” she mumbled, staring at
the warrior and pulling on her bottom lip as she thought. “We could
choose the old-fashioned French name of Gui, I guess, but American
women might think of those pajama things the kung fu dudes wear.”
She closed her eyes in the ensuing quiet to give her some room to
think. Any woman in the world would be hard-pressed to keep her
mind on her business with all the hot, huge maleness spread out
around her.

“There are a couple of choices, I think,” she
said after a time. “There’s Gere, Gareth or even Garth, but I
wouldn’t go with that one unless you are seriously into country
music.” The men around her blinked and Pam realized that their lack
of response indicated a lack of knowledge. Therefore, she moved on.
“You could choose Gary, Jerry or even a nickname like ‘Yard’ if
that tickles your fancy. But whatever name you pick, sorting out
your hair absolutely, positively has to be the next order of
business, bud.”

“What is wrong with my hair?” The man looked
more than a little offended as he brought the longest layer of
bright blonde hair over his shoulder and began to stroke
it.

Pam tried to think of a nice way of saying what
truly needed to be said but finally just gave the truth to him
straight. “Dude, your mullet went out of style years ago.” At their
confused faces, she continued. “The whole party in the back, with
business in the front? It just isn’t cool and will turn most
American girls off. Which ain’t the goal, right? So you’re gonna
have to bite the bullet and get it cut, big guy.”