Daxon's Hostage (Alien Bounty Hunters Book 6)

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by Michele Mills




  Daxon’s Hostage

  Michele Mills

  Daxon’s Hostage

  Daxon of Seven is trying to take make it through the first day of a new job. After being kicked out of the Illibrium mines, he’s starting a brand-new career as a Bounty Hunter. And with his ferocious size and mighty fists, he figures he’ll be a great fit. On day one he starts his ship, leaves dock and finds a stowaway.

  A delicate New Earth female is sleeping in his bunk. Meanwhile, some rich idiot is screaming, red-faced through the holo vid that she’s his bride and he wants her returned, immediately.

  He should give her back—rich idiot has powerful friends. Except he’s inhaled her scent and he’s 99% certain this tiny human is destined to be his mate. Therefore, this precious cargo is his.

  And if anyone feels different…they’ll have to go through Daxon first.

  Author's note: This is book #6 in the series, but can be read as a stand alone. Be prepared to meet new friends, and revisit old favorites.

  Copyright © 2019 by Michele Mills

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover art by Meljean Brook

  Edited by Aquila Editing

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  Author Note

  Extended Series Epilogue

  Newsletter

  Alien Bounty Hunters Reading Order

  About the Author

  Also by Michele Mills

  1

  “…her hair is shiny perfection, and her eyes are like the rarest jewels, green and amber mixed together…”

  Uh oh. Voices. Shoot. Darcy skidded to a halt on the paved garden path, the silky slide of her voluminous white skirts settling around her legs. She took a tentative step back. Her eyes darted across the area, swiftly landing on a perfect hiding spot. She ran over and took position behind a stone column, her breath coming out in short puffs as she fervently prayed the two young women chatting nearby couldn’t see her.

  “Darcy Chopra is soooo beautiful, right? I wish I looked like her…”

  Darcy let out a soft snort. Oh jeez. These two girls were talking about her.

  Why was she always the freaking topic of conversation in Singapore? It never ceased to amaze her how this last moon cycle everyone had become so fixated with a simple farm girl from Tulare—pictures of her face and figure were all over the vid channels and plastered on giant holo vids around the city. If she went anywhere in public people tripped over themselves, trying to covertly capture a pic or vid of the girl who’d been declared “the most beautiful woman on the planet.”

  Total craziness.

  The most beautiful woman on the planet?

  Really?

  Apparently, none of them knew what she looked like first thing in the morning.

  One moon cycle ago a fabulously wealthy bachelor and his team of celebrity stylists had declared her the winner of the Bridal Tour reality show, and now she’d been taken to the capital city of New Earth so everyone could gawk at her famed beauty.

  The problem was she had zero interest in this “fame” and all she wanted was to return home to her parents and brother. Shoot, there’d been hundreds of other girls in this competition who’d been shockingly gorgeous, self-possessed trend-setters who would’ve been perfection in this role, but instead they’d chosen Darcy—who hadn’t even meant to be in the line-up. The girl least likely to give one shit about a beauty crown.

  Really, what a waste.

  She was now so desperate to return home she found herself wishing she could get back in time to work the damn Salphalfa harvest. Salphalfa! Even stinky, prickly stems couldn’t dim her determination to return to her quiet corner of the planet and the people she loved most in the world. She’d give anything to sit on the swing on the front porch again with her mother, the two of them sipping coffee and chatting comfortably while their cats rubbed against their ankles.

  To most people, being declared instantly famous and poised to marry into a super-rich family was the stuff of legend, but to Darcy it was living hell. Well, being rich would be lovely, of course. But this windfall of wealth wasn’t going to be her own money, and it all came with strings attached. And being talked about, prodded and dressed-up twenty-four-seven by strangers wasn’t her idea of fun, instead it was a total nightmare. She wasn’t the type of person who liked to speak in front of crowds. She lurked on the vid channels and chat rooms and could care less about gaining a following. She was an introvert who’d been shoved into a situation that required the social skills of a high-level extrovert.

  And most importantly, she didn’t love the guy she was supposed to be marrying, at all. In fact, she hated his guts. He was scary as fuck.

  “And her eyelashes, wow, how can they be that long and dark? Her teeth are perfect, and her family didn’t have to use any currency to upgrade her appearance.”

  “I can’t even believe that part. Do you know how much my new nose cost?”

  “Girl, please! I’m getting my breasts done next month and it’s craaaaazy how much currency those medi-spas charge.”

  “And get this, Darcy Chopra doesn’t need facials or have to get anything plucked. She doesn’t style her hair or put on makeup. She just steps out of the cleansing unit, throws on whatever, and looks stunning. Every. Single. Time.”

  “I am so fucking jealous. No wonder she’s considered the most beautiful woman on New Earth. And probably one of the most beautiful females in the four sectors!”

  Darcy bit her lip and shook her head. This was the weirdest part, being considered so beautiful. She hadn’t wanted any of this. She’d been “discovered” by the eldest son of the powerful Singh family; he’d taken one look at her and tore her away from her life and home.

  The story went like this: Gurpreet Singh, the incredibly rich heir to the Singh business empire and the most eligible bachelor on the planet, had boasted to his friends that he’d only marry when he’d found the most fantastically beautiful and virginal, woman on New Earth and until he met that perfect female, he’d remain a bachelor. This boast had grown into legend, and Singh had doubled-down on it, declaring it the truth. But how was he going to make sure he had really found the most beautiful girl? The solution came to him and he announced that he would make this vision a reality by traveling the planet, systematically searching for the most beautiful and untouched girl in the world, and when he found her (and confirmed through medical exam that she was a virgin), he would marry her.

  Lucky girl!

  The entire planet had been entranced, loving the idea of a reality show where they could watch the most eligible bachelor on the planet discover his fiancée, because of course the whole thing was being broadcast planet-wide for the vid channels. For six moon cycles the young, rich and handsome Mr. Singh went looking for his bride among the people of New Earth. He traveled through every village, town and city. All fathers and families, rich and poor alike, showed off their young, unmarried daughters to Mr. Singh. He set up pavilion
s so the locals could wine and dine him and run each daughter past him. It was said that his assistant took a pic of each girl in line and rated her using a program that analyzed her features and immediately produced a numbered value.

  And the start of this Bridal tour was exactly the moment when Darcy’s life turned upside down. She’d been eighteen and poised to start a coveted machinery apprenticeship, and then it had been snatched away and given to someone else. Given to a young man, of course, who she knew for a fact wasn’t as good as her.

  What the fuck?

  It turned out that basically everyone Darcy had known—friends, family, neighbors, mentors, probably even the damn animals and the weather—were conspiring to keep her living in isolation, and she’d been resentful. So. Very. Resentful. Then she’d turned nineteen and found herself engaged to the eldest son of the neighboring farming unit because this was the “safe” option everyone had chosen for her.

  At the time she hadn’t understood, and she hated the way her father, mother and brother had boxed her into a life of so many restrictions and zero choices. Although now, half a year later, she felt terrible for all the times she’d raged, yelling that they were smothering her, that she was an adult and wanted to experience life and think for herself, make her own decisions. She’d always thought they’d had her instantly engaged and ordered her to stay on the grounds of their own farm because they’d wanted to control her every move, but instead everyone she’d grown up around had known what should’ve been obvious because it was the biggest news on all the vid channels, that Gurpreet Singh was on a world-wide Bridal tour looking for a virgin just like her.

  “And also…” The two girls moved closer to the column. Darcy pressed against the stone and sucked in a breath. “…Darcy Chopra has that sexy, raspy voice,” one girl said.

  “And that tiny waist and her…” The other one cupped her hand and moved it into an exaggerated curve.

  They both gasped and giggled. “Her…her…”

  Her ass. Everyone loved her rounded ass. It was ridiculous.

  “And she’s about to marry the most eligible bachelor on the planet. He’s so handsome and rich. She’s sooooo lucky.”

  “I can’t believe we were lucky enough to get an invitation to the wedding of the century. The ceremony is being broadcast live all over the planet.”

  “Right?” The two girls squealed in tandem and giggled some more, walking along arm in arm, their heels clicking on the pavers. They continued past her and on their way across the gardens, which joined the main pathway that eventually lead to the back entrance of the Singapore multigod temple.

  Darcy wanted to go up to them and give them both a good shaking, because she wasn’t lucky at all. Her supposed beauty was a burden that had led to this—being torn from her home and forced into marriage with a man she despised.

  None of the citizens of New Earth had any idea that this rich handsome bachelor who portrayed himself to the world as a smiling benefactor, was in fact a murderer and an abuser of women and children. And Gurpreet’s father, the patriarch of the Singh business empire, was constantly covering up his son’s atrocities.

  She didn’t care how rich, famous and powerful he was, she wasn’t marrying a murderer. Darcy was willing to risk death while trying to run away rather than perform a marriage ceremony to that monster, because there was no other way out.

  She’d tried to say no when she’d been initially identified out of the glittering line-up at the pavilion, “I declare that Darcy Chopra is the most beautiful woman on the planet and…after her virginity has been confirmed, she will be my bride,” he’d announced. No one had heard her protests, the world’s attention had been centered on the smiling Gurpreet who was holding up her hand with an iron grip. Music had swelled, confetti cannons burst, and everyone cried and gushed about how lucky she was and attributed her initial dismay to shyness and nerves. Vid drones hovered right in her face. The crowds had cheered and clapped. Attendants patted her hand and pulled her along, while armed guards walked alongside to keep her in line, and other people back.

  It had been decided that Darcy was marrying Gurpreet and that was that. Forget her prior engagement to her brother’s best friend (a man she hadn’t wanted to marry anyway), that was tossed aside and not even mentioned. She was confirmed a virgin, so this new marriage was happening.

  The Singh family owned squadrons of armed guards, and they could bribe anyone, even the President, so her whole family was rounded up and brought to Singapore to witness the ceremony. Her parents were putting on a brave face, although her brother was having the hardest time controlling his anger. Hector had never believed the propaganda about Gurpreet Singh and his good-will and generosity. Her brother had always thought the heir to the Singh fortune was the worst kind of human being. And Hector had been the main instigator in her “safe” engagement to their neighbor, which she’d kept putting off.

  Speaking of…

  She glanced around. Where was Hector? She was supposed to be meeting her brother here, in the garden.

  2

  “Darcy?”

  “Hector!” Darcy cried out as she raced across the garden path, throwing her arms around her brother’s neck. “You’re such a pain in the ass. You scared me. I was worried you weren’t going to make it…”

  Hector chuckled and squeezed her tight for a moment then let go. “Of course I’d be here when I said,” he answered. “There’s no way I’d miss crashing the wedding of the century and helping my sister in the process.”

  She looked him up and down, because actually it was startling seeing her older brother so cleaned up. He’d never been dressed this nice his entire life. Hector was attired in a formal dark suit and his black hair was cut shorter and slicked back. Wow, he looked so tall and strong. Her lips trembled. She was proud of how handsome Hector was with his new clothes and his clean-shaven face. Too bad the both of them were so richly dressed, only for it all to go to waste on such a terrible occasion. She wiped at her eyes. “You look good,” she sniffed.

  “You too,” he replied with a gruff voice. “Let’s get going,” he said. “There’s no time to lose if we’re going to get you out of this mess and away from that asshole.”

  She gave a curt nod. “Where are we going?” she asked, staring in confusion at the heavy fabric that was draped over his arms.

  “You’ll see. First, take this,” he said, pushing a hooded robe into her arms. “Put it on.”

  “Okay…” She took the long black garment from him and tugged it around her shoulders, pulling the deep hood over her elegant hairdo. After she’d properly clasped the front, she noticed the robe not only shadowed her features, but also covered her completely, hiding the curves of her sparkling bodice and her wide skirts. Luckily, she’d managed to escape from the nearby Palace before her team of stylists had added the long train to her wedding dress. “I look like a multigod priestess,” she remarked.

  “Exactly. Come on, let’s go.”

  “Oh!” she gasped as Hector grabbed her hand. Suddenly her fancy high heels were clicking across the pavement as she vainly tried to keep up with his long stride.

  They raced past the side of the temple and she glanced through the slit in a half-open door, catching a glimpse of the heavily decorated altar and the priests readying for the elaborate ceremony. It was a miracle she’d managed to sneak away from her attendants. A whole team of celebrity stylists were in her suite of rooms, their entire purpose to make her gorgeous for the wedding. Had they noticed yet that she’d snuck out the bathroom window?

  She brushed aside a lock of hair that had dropped down the side of her face and over her eyes. The sleek twist at the back of her head was in jeopardy of slipping loose, and her fancy white gown already had a black mark down the side and a tear in the hem.

  They’d be horrified.

  Oh well.

  No guards had been assigned to specifically watch her while she was dressing, because why would she not want to marry the most eligi
ble bachelor on the planet? Everyone thought she’d basically won the lottery and they were happy for her. The people who’d attended to her since she’d arrived in Singapore thought this was what she’d wanted—that Darcy Chopra was the lucky girl who’d won the Singh Bridal Tour. She suspected the populace of New Earth had also talked themselves into believing this charade, thinking she was in love with that asshole.

  After she’d quickly realized there was no way out of this travesty, she’d played the part for them, pretending to be the happy-go-lucky fiancée who was thrilled to have won the famed Bridal Tour. The girl who was marrying the man of her dreams. And all of that play-acting had paid off, because due to their lax security she’d finally been able to escape.

  When Hector reached the front of the temple he slowed down. They both moved naturally among the throng of people forming in the street, trying to blend in and not draw attention to themselves. Peacekeepers were out in force, keeping the spectators back and allowing the rich and famous to arrive for the ceremony in all their glory.

  Darcy felt an intense stab of guilt. She was ruining this day for everyone who’d planned so long and hard. The wedding planners, designers and fashion experts meant well, the people on the planet who wanted to dreamily watch the broadcast of this beautiful young woman and her beautiful mega-wedding meant well. They really thought this was some sort of romance and she was getting the man of her dreams.

  But then she remembered the horror she’d witnessed that first night when she’d snuck down the halls and into the east wing of the palace to try and speak privately to Gurpreet…and her spine stiffened, her jaw locking with resolve. She had to get out of here right fucking now. These people had no idea what was going on behind closed doors, and if they knew they’d be helping her to escape.

 

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