Alien's Beauty (Galactic Fairytales Book 1)

by V. K. Ludwig

  Ada had no translation for ureshi. Was that what they called their women? Their females? Girls only?

  She slipped out of heels and panties, hand covering her crotch while her arm draped over breasts. “How old are you, Vohri?”

  “Our star circled Xaleon nine times since I was born.” When the water stopped dripping, she pushed the faucet back into the compartment and tapped the edge of the tub. “Sit down so I can wet your hair.”

  Ada stared down, the water standing barely high enough to cover her toes. “Don’t you think we might need a little more water?”

  “More water?” Vohri cocked her head, the tip of her tongue pushing a wiggly fang forward before she sucked it back. “You want me to go and ask for the stinky green stuff? This water is fresh and —”

  “Clean, yeah, I got it.” Ada stepped into the tub and her skin pebbled the moment she sat down, pulling knees against breasts, and heels to cover other necessities. “This water is cold.”

  The girl narrowed her eyes and tilted her head as if clattering teeth were the most normal thing when taking a bath. “Water is always cold.”

  Ada let a palmful of water dribble onto her wounds. “Once I’m finished, perhaps we can find a band-aid? Or something to wrap this?”

  Small hands took her arm, bringing it closer to the girl’s face for inspection. “Human skin is very thin father told me. He said I have to be careful with my claws around you. Who did this?”

  Ada struggled up a half-lived smile. “Your Varac.”

  “Oh, yes, his claws are very long and sharp.” She lowered Ada’s arm back into the water and began patting filthy strands with damp palms. “When he plays with us and we hide, he drags his claws over the walls and they, like, screech, and then I breathe real fast and he finds me right away.”

  Ada’s jaw clenched. He’d played that with her as well, but it hadn’t been fun. “He plays hide and seek with you?”

  “Sometimes,” she said with a shrug. “When he isn’t too busy being our Varac, and he can just be Kerien.”

  Kerien. That had to be his name.

  So that guy played with the Aurani children when he wasn’t busy kidnapping women? That had to be a good sign, right? Perhaps he wasn’t nearly as dangerous as he wanted her to believe?

  Vohri applied something floral-scented to Ada’s hair. “I’m sure he’s very sorry that he hurt you.”

  Ada absently traced a finger around the puncture marks he’d left, a chill licking up her spine. Was he? No matter how she’d jerked when he dug his claws into her flesh, the moment his eyes caught on the blood, he had jerked harder.

  Palms still shaking from the residue of shock, she wiped over the black patches of engine oil on her legs. A guy dead-set on harming her wouldn’t have stumbled back the way he had. But what if she was mistaken? What did she know about Aurani? About as much as she did about the dealings of Osacore, which he seemed pretty pissed about.

  “Kerien,” Ada said. “Is that the name of your Varac?”

  “Uh-huh. This was his chamber, but he sleeps with the warriors now.” Small hands scooped water down her hair, and tiny claws brushed through the strands. “Why is your hair so soft?”

  “Hmm?” Ada turned toward the girl and shrugged. “Not sure. Maybe the stuff I use for it at home? Is Aurani hair not as soft?”

  That was invitation enough for Vohri to loosen the leather tie around her ponytail, letting red-brown hair dangle over the tub. “Touch.”

  Ada brushed through greasy wisps, fingertips dislodging crumbs of dirt from filthy nests of unkept hair. “It probably just needs a good wash. When was the last time that happened?”

  She brushed her hair back and tied the leather back around. “When our Varac took all the children to the pond, teaching us how to swim.”

  Oh, so he gave swimming lessons too?

  “Now it’s my turn.” Vohri kneeled beside the tub and reached her hands out, but hesitated when Ada shrunk back. “I promise I’ll be careful. No scratching.”

  Ada nodded, the girl’s touch soft against her cheeks in a way completely unexpected after the episode with the Varac.

  Curious pupils darted over Ada’s face as Vohri mapped her features. She squeezed cheeks between palms, trailed the back of a claw over her mouth with a tingle, and tugged on her lower lip.

  “Say aahhh,” the girl demanded, and Ada complied. “How do you chew bones?”

  A laugh burst from Ada’s throat. “Not at all if I can avoid it. Humans don’t usually eat bones.”

  “Vohri!”

  The deep voice rumbling from the doors startled Ada, and she clasped her arms in front of her chest.

  “My apologies, heiress.” The Aurani warrior from earlier stood in the frame, gaze averted. “I don’t wish to intrude, but our Varac demands your presence for the second meal. The clothes I’ve left here on the ground are clean, and the seamstress assured they would fit.”

  “But I’m not finished yet,” Ada said.

  He gave a curt nod. “Help her finish up, Vohri. You have half an Earth hour until she is to join him.”

  “Yes, father,” Vohri replied.

  He stepped back and let the gap of the door grow smaller, but not without adding, “Remember what we spoke about, Vohri.”

  Vohri pressed her lips into a thin slash, a deep sigh puffing from her nostrils. “Father says many humans do much talking, but don’t act true to their words.”

  “He’s probably right,” Ada confessed. “Where’s your mom? Your mother?”

  Vohri squeezed a blob of the floral soap into Ada’s palm, then pointed at the glass cupola crowning the center of the ceiling. “She’s with Drana, and one with the people. Our people.”

  Ada didn’t need to know who or what Drana was. The way the girl’s eyes turned empty said it all, and a familiar heaviness settled onto her chest.

  “My mother died when I was three,” Ada said, her voice turning thin even though she barely remembered the sound of Mom’s voice. “Got into a drone accident on her way to work. Do you remember yours?”

  Vohri stared at her for a long time, her lips parting and closing as if she wanted to say something. Eventually, she sucked in her lips and turned away to grab a towel from the stool beside the tub.

  Ada finished washing in the world’s tiniest puddle. She expected her throat to close up at the thought of facing the Varac again, but it didn’t.

  For someone growing deadly weapons from head, mouth, and fingers, he’d freaked out pretty badly about three tiny puncture wounds. What if he was bluffing? He’d caught her from falling.

  She stilled in the tub, another shudder clasping her tight, though this one had nothing to do with the freezing water. What if the Varac had answers to her questions?

  That guy wasn’t out for money, he’d said so himself. He had political motivations, and clearly knew a lot more about the dealings of Osacore than Ada. Could she get him to answer her questions in exchange for… for…?

  Her shoulders slumped and she climbed out of the tub with a shake of her head. With nothing to offer in exchange, was it wise to bargain? If he managed to leave her bleeding by accident, just what was he capable of if he got truly fed up with her?

  “I will get your clothes,” Vohri said and wrapped her in a towel as soft as this girl’s soul was gentle. “I saw them prepare your food in the nutrition bay. Yummy argoy berries. They’re my favorite! And flaked hessa meat, but I don’t remember what it tastes like.”

  “Did your father happen to bring shoes as well?” Ada asked and slipped into wide, brown kosak-style pants which she tied in the front with braided strings.

  Vohri plopped a pair of slippers in front of her. “If they’re too big, I can bring hessa wool and stuff the front.”

  Ada pushed her fists into the green, trumpet-sleeved tunic which reached down mid-thigh. The slippers were only slightly too big, but no doubt a much better choice than bare feet in case she needed to run again.

  “I will prepare your cha
mber for the night.” Vohri hurried around the room, pulling one linen after another from landscapes and family portraits. “Nobody has slept in here for a very long time, but I will make it nice.”

  Hair still damp, not exactly clean but at least less greasy, Ada worked the towel through her strands. She wandered from one painting to the next, her feet stalling at the one showing a younger Varac with the planet Xaleon glowing a greenish blue in the back.

  “Father says he is a good Varac,” Vohri said. “Many females wish to be his mate.”

  Ada didn’t doubt it.

  Now that she’d gotten a good look at him, it was hard to deny his attractiveness. He had stunning eyes, along with lips one might have considered pretty if not for that hideous scar splitting them in two.

  Why did she have to notice these things? Sure, she’d been taught to remember details in cases like this, but it couldn’t have meant her captor’s handsome features.

  She parted suddenly dry lips. “We should probably leave, Vohri.”

  She took the towel with a slight bow. “Are you ready?”

  “I’m ready.” Ready to bargain with the handsome beast. All she needed was something to bargain with.

  Four

  “Perhaps she truly has no answer to your questions,” Thuran said, swiping over the hologram to generate a status report on the power core.

  “I won’t blame you for your trust in human nature no matter how you, of all, should know better.” Kerien took a step toward the blue sphere floating at the center of the chamber, going paler by the day. “She’s to inherit the company. That woman knows everything, but she also understands the value of such information and won’t give it up easily.”

  Thuran let out a never-ending sigh, the words which followed a whisper. “Three percent life.”

  Kerien’s stomach dropped, and a sudden wave of nausea licked at the back of his throat. No matter how he’d deactivated non-essential parts of Aura Station years ago, slaughtered livestock, and rationed water, his precautions hadn’t been enough. The core powering Aura Station was weeks away from dying, and his race right along with it.

  “I observed her when I brought her clothes. Vohri seems fond of the woman.” Thuran leaned against the metal rail surrounding the sphere, arms crossed in front of his chest. “Perhaps if you showed her the core —”

  “Appeal to her human kindness?” There was no such thing. The heiress was a liar like her father, incapable of caring for anything else but power and riches. “You and I know full well why Vohri was bound to be intrigued. No, Thuran, I’m determined to see this through. Until her father provides us with a new power core, I will make her suffer in front of his eyes, even if that means she has to bleed.”

  “Bleed?” The smack of Thuran’s tongue teased a grunt from Kerien. “I smell her blood on you already, right along with something that reeks a whole lot like guilt. Perhaps even shame.”

  Kerien peeled his lips back into a snarl. “I clawed her by accident, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again if it is needed.”

  “It’s against our nature to harm females. Dishonorable.”

  “I will gladly dishonor myself for the sake of saving my people.” And yet, a flare of unease heated his chest. Treating a female in such a way was dishonorable, yes, but no more so than letting his people freeze, starve, or die of dehydration. “However far I must take this will be entirely up to her father.”

  Determination restored, Kerien turned away from the core. “Tell the guard to bring her to the observation deck immediately. She will take a meal with me. After that, we will contact Victor Alvarez and state our demands. Surely the old man wants his daughter back in one piece.”

  With no time to waste, he didn’t bother waiting for the ‘yes, my Varac’. He stormed out of the powerplant, ignoring the tightness in his throat. Did he want to harm her? No. But he would. If necessary.

  With the transportation modules long disabled, he sprinted up the spiral staircase taking two steps at once. Above him, lights flickered, struggling to keep everything lit. Perhaps they could gain a few additional days by sacrificing the next crop? What good was grain if everyone froze to death long before the harvest?

  When he finally reached the observation deck, he stopped dead in his tracks. A table waited set with stoneware that hadn’t been touched in ages. Polished crystal sparkled even underneath sparse light. Berries, meat, and other delicacies rested on perfectly arranged platters.

  Only one thing was missing.

  “Why isn’t she here yet?” Kerien asked the guard standing in front of the wall of windows overlooking the nebula. “By the goddess, if she refuses to answer my call —”

  “Why would I refuse?” Light brown hair framing a chin held high, the heiress strolled onto the deck with movements too graceful for a captive. “I gotta eat, right?”

  The chandelier flickered above Kerien, almost as if his heart drained its power. It had to be true, because a shock of currency rippled through the organ.

  Lips stripped of paint, hair a damp mess around her head, the heiress had lost all of her glamour. That would have pleased him… if she hadn’t gained a natural, unaltered beauty instead.

  Damn her and the way human females appealed so much to Aurani males because of their vulnerability. With no attack mechanisms, no means to defend herself, he was tempted to do it for her. Protect her from harm. Protect her from him?

  “Where do I sit?”

  Kerien blinked himself out of his pondering. “Pardon me?”

  He’d forgotten to growl that at her…

  “Sit,” she repeated, opening her hand at the many chairs surrounding the rectangular glass table. “Where do you want me to sit?”

  He rolled his shoulders and gave a dismissive wave. “As if I care.”

  “Alright.” She took the chair beside one end of the table, carrying a false smile that roiled his guts. “Thanks for sending Vohri to help me. She’s a very sweet girl.”

  Kerien offered a grunt in response. The best thing he could do was stay far away from this woman.

  He sat down beside her instead, at the head of the table, immediately regretting it when his nostrils caught a whiff of dried blood, and something headier he couldn’t place.

  He grabbed a plate and placed berries on it, along with flaked meat and whatever ripe vegetables they’d managed to find earlier, placing it in front of her with a clank. “Eat.”

  She threw him a sidelong glance and took the fork, doing a poor job at poking the berries. “What about you? You’re not hungry?”

  Starving, but there was no need for the UFG to learn just how dire things were for them. “I already took my meal earlier, together with my warriors.”

  “I see.” One by one, as though they had all the time in the universe because his power core wasn’t dying, she brought a berry to her mouth. “If you would tell me what you want, perhaps I could help.”

  “I don’t need your help, but I will gladly take your desperation instead.”

  She lowered down her fork and stared straight at him, a glint of awareness fleeting across her eyes that stopped the blood in his veins.

  “You want me to ugly cry for the camera,” she said, her tone entirely void of fear now. “Have me trembling. Begging them to meet your demands.”

  Kerien suppressed a flinch. Was his plan that transparent? “Eat your food. You talk too much.”

  “Earlier, you got pissed because I didn’t talk.”

  By Drana, now Kerien wished she would shut her mouth. “You talked plenty, but your lips spit nothing but lies.”

  Her lips had now gone a speckled purple, which made it hard for Kerien not to trail the tip of his tongue over his own lips at the sight. He could almost taste the tartness of argoy berries.

  “I can do it, you know. Cry and all that —”

  “Eat!”

  The heiress was wise enough to pick up her fork again, pushing flakes of rare meat across her plate in all her spoiled ignora
nce.

  “Call for Thuran,” Kerien ordered into the room, his voice shattering from the surrounding windows. “Have him bring the communication hub and set up a connection to Victor Alvarez.”

  A fork stopped mid-air, less than a breath away from parting lips, and the heiress narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re trying to get a hold of my dad?” An arrogant snort and then, “Good luck with that.”

  Kerien’s horns heated, liquid anger pumping through the bony core. What did that mean? Why did her fake smile twitch and die? But most of all, why did she arch a brow at him, casually adding, “Guess you haven’t done this before.”

  He pushed the plate away from underneath her. Someone who did this much talking clearly wasn’t very hungry. “Done what before?”

  “This kidnapping thing.” Her fork clanked against the table, and she used the embroidered cloth napkin to wipe her mouth. “If you had, you would probably be better prepared. And you would know that my dad won’t pick up, because he’s currently at the New Moscow Research Clinic for Intergalactic Parasites.”

  A headache rolled into his skull. “You’re lying.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are.” He pushed himself from the chair, the legs screeching backward before the entire thing toppled to the ground with a thomp. “By Drana, woman, I’m surprised how a mouth so beautiful can spit so many lies.”

  “And I’m not surprised at all that a mouth so torn up can accuse me of ugly things just because I’m my father’s daughter, and —” She swung a hand to her lips, eyes wide.

  No matter the rush of blood coursing through his heated veins, Kerien stood frozen. Aurani had never counted among those species blessed with appeal, and the scar splitting his face in half didn’t do him any favors either. She found him appalling. Which should have meant nothing to him, so why did he stand rooted?

  Kerien stared at the heiress, and she stared right back, the tension between them palpable. It charged the air to such a degree, transferring it to the power core might very well have put an end to his dilemma.