Alien Romance: Stranded With The Alien Assassin: Scifi Alien Abduction Romance (Alien Romance, Alien Invasion Romance, BBW) (Celestial Mates Book 3)

by Therron, Marla

  The rest of the paper was small news, new vendors that would be at the marketplace and brief mentions of news happening in the cities outside of Dlahik. Not that they mattered much. Dlahik was the largest city by far, the capitol. He noticed one story, though, a local one, and this time for a murder he didn’t commit.

  Foreign Tourist Found Dead. A woman of non-Drunae descent was found in the middle of a street, dead. The murder was sloppy, impulsive. The picture used showed slash marks all across her stomach, and finally one, large and deep, across her throat. D’Anil studied the image closer, seeing the rope marks on her wrists, and then finally her face. It was only then that he recognized her.

  “Your friend died,” he said. It wasn’t a question, more of an accusation that Jayne lied about being okay.

  She stopped halfway through cutting a hunk of bread off for him. “What? Who?” Jayne asked, playing dumb. She cleared her throat and continued cutting off the bread, putting it on a plate and carrying it over with a bowl of soup. Jayne’s eyes avoided the newsletter the entire time. “Here you go.”

  Normally, with any other person, D’Anil would have let it go. He would have let her suffer in silence. But this was Jayne, the one who never stopped talking and who could ask him a million questions. It was only fair that he return the favor. “The woman on the paper you were just reading,” he went on, “I remember her. She was the other girl that you were with, the one that ran when you first got here.”

  Jayne sat down with her own plate and dipped her bread carefully into the broth. She’d spent three hours making this thing. Deciding to take a break, she sat down to read the newsletter, poring over the entire thing to find any information she could about the city, about the government, and the people, or even about anything from the Empire. What she found instead was disheartening. In fact, all Jayne had been able to think of since reading about her friend’s death was how much she had failed.

  “Her name was Meta.”

  “She was the warrior princess, wasn’t she?” D’Anil asked, “The main attraction for your group. You know, she’s the only other person that got bid on for over 1,000 imdallions.”

  The brunette woman looked up at him. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” she asked. D’Anil was startled, but masked it well. He’d never heard her sound so cold, not towards him.

  “She probably fought them too hard, tried to escape too many times. She made herself more difficult than her master thought she was worth.”

  “I’m so happy that I’ve proven to be worth your while then, Master,” Jayne replied. The entire month, she’d been playing nice, playing homemaker, and for what? Her friend was dead. Who even knew what shape Sophie was in, what this place had turned her into?

  Look what they’ve turned me into. Jayne imagined a picture from an old history book, of wives with pretty, perfectly curled hair and aprons adorning their dresses. A time on Earth long gone, and yet Jayne almost perfectly exemplified them here on this other planet.

  D’Anil sighed and tore off a piece of his bread. She’d never called him Master before. He actually liked it, but not like this. Not when she was forcing it. “I knew you were going to be trouble when I first met you,” he said, “There’s not a lot you could do that would surprise me, worth-wise.”

  Jayne was quiet for a long time, the only sound between them being the slurping of their mouths against their spoons. She could just do it now, reveal her whole plan to escape. And he could either accept it or thwart her. Jayne glanced back down at the picture of Meta, the newsletter sitting between them at the middle of the table. She couldn’t end up like that. Not before she saved the others, or in the very least, not until she saved Sophie.

  “If I ran away, I’d end up like her, then?” she asked, “Is that how it works for all the slaves?” She wanted to make her voice sound as light as possible, like it wasn’t something she’d been thinking about since the minute she’d walked into the place.

  D’Anil kept eating his soup, almost like she didn’t say anything at all. Jayne almost repeated the question until he dropped his spoon and spoke. “Depends on the master, I guess.”

  “And what would you do?”

  “Do you plan on running away?”

  She didn’t owe him the truth. She didn’t owe him anything, really. And yet Jayne felt like she did. There were worse masters to be stuck with, and she hated to think about what she would have had to do by now if she’d gone to the other man.

  It wouldn’t just be cooking and cleaning and making conversation. In fact, Jayne might have very well ended up like Meta, though she was sure that D’Anil was right. She probably tried to fight too hard. It was honorable, but it still led to her death.

  D’Anil chuckled and shook his head. “The one time you’re silent,” he said, picking his spoon back up and continuing to eat his soup. He looked straight down at his food, not daring to look up at Jayne. Is it shame that he’s feeling? she wondered to herself, Is he remembering that I was actually forced to be here? Has he been under some sort of illusion this entire time?

  “Whatever, it’s fine. I guess we should have talked about this before… The only reason I ever bought you anyways was to help you from that creep.”

  Jayne was visibly surprised. “What?”

  “You think I’m used to having a sex slave? You’ve been more of my housekeeper than anything,” he pointed out. Jayne winced slightly. Why did that sting? “And to be honest, it’d be easier without you here. I could start taking the better jobs again.”

  “Better jobs?” she asked. She couldn’t help another question, but even now, her inquisitive nature realized that was not the most important part of what he was saying. “Wait, are you going to let me go?”

  His grip tightened slightly on his spoon, and he seemed to be choosing his words carefully. D’Anil convinced himself that what he was saying was true. As great as it was to have a housekeeper, it’d be better to have one that actually wanted to be there every day, or at least one that he didn’t have to worry about escaping.

  He could start leaving the city again, work on the Outside, even with the heat rising and the summer season reaching its peak. D’Anil could go back to the life of traveling alone, just like he’d had before, a life he was perfectly comfortable with in the past.

  He didn’t need Jayne there. She’d just get in the way.

  “If you want to leave, then you can leave,” he answered her, then looked up at Jayne seriously, “But it’s not as easy as you think-“

  “Can’t I just talk to the leader around here-“

  “No.”

  Jayne huffed. “And why not?”

  She hated the expression he gave her, one that made her feel stupid. “The man you’d want to talk to is in on the trade. In fact, he participates actively.” D’Anil knew all about Alem and the transgressions he committed, the hypocrisies that he hid from the city. D’Anil was paid to keep all those secrets, to keep them hidden. “He even got a slave at the last auction.”

  “So what do I do?” she asked. The young woman was not used to this. She wasn’t used to justice not working in her favor. On Earth, there was corruption, but never on this scale. Not for a slave trade that spanned across several different solar systems.

  “You get the hell out of here,” D’Anil advised. He paused thoughtfully. While he never really planned on keeping Jayne there, he never thought of how she would leave, either. Just that he couldn’t get caught helping her. If he did… He could say goodbye to any work from Alem.

  Knowing the Drunae leader, D’Anil suspected he’d even get a new hitman just to take him and Jayne out. Information like the slave trade could ruin Imdali as a planet. It would remove them entirely from the Empire, leaving a people that had to hide underground for most of the year on their own, defenseless. “You go to the military base, and you stow away on the ship back home.”

  Jayne nodded. “Well I have to get Sophie out first. I’m supposed to meet her in a couple of days… Is tha
t enough time for us to get ready and leave?”

  He paused. “What, you mean ‘us’ like you and me?” D’Anil asked. When she nodded a second time, the man scoffed. “Who said I was going with you?”

  “So I’m supposed to navigate through the desert by myself?” Jayne asked incredulously. When he’d given his “permission” to let her run away, she thought that meant he was going to help her. She cursed herself for being that surprised, for forgetting what he did for a living and who he was.

  “Oh, and I’m supposed to risk my life for you? You getting home is not my problem.”

  Jayne stood up from the table. “You brought us here! So, yeah, it is your problem!”

  D’Anil didn’t stand up with her, like she expected he would. She expected him to try and overpower her, intimidate her. And, well, he did, but somehow he managed to do it while still seated and dipping bread into soup.

  “Are all the humans on Earth actually this whiny?” D’Anil asked, sounding bored, “Your planet has a reputation, but I was willing to be a little open-minded.” His bread was dripping with broth, dribbling into his beard as he finished it off. After cleaning himself up with the napkin, he stood up slowly, pushed his chair in, and looked at his dish expectantly. Jayne flushed with heat as she remembered this was the time where she would take it to the sink.

  “You’re just as bad as the rest of them, aren’t you?” she asked, egging him on. She shouldn’t have, she knew. Truthfully, Jayne was a little scared of pushing him too far. Because if she did, he could take it all back. He could make her stay. Or even worse, she could end up like Meta… No, he’s not like that, she thought to herself reassuringly, The worst he’ll do is gag me.

  When she didn’t take his dishes, he walked over with them to the sink. “I’m a different breed from them, Jayne,” D’Anil answered slowly, then turned around to look at her, leaning against the counter, “I’m not one of your damn smugglers, so you can toss whatever revenge plot out that you have for me.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t have a revenge plot.” It was a lie. She had one. But it wasn’t like what he was implying. Jayne intended to be the one laughing at her abusers in the end, though it involved just a little more patience. And a way to get off the damn planet. “I just want to go home.” Jayne paused crossing her arms and switching her wait to her left hip. “And if you’re not a smuggler, then what are you?”

  “Just… Not a smuggler.”

  “Why were you with us then?” Who are you? It wasn’t the first time she silently asked D’Anil this. He was private, never giving up much of his details. Jayne didn’t know him any more than she knew him at the auction, not about his past anyways.

  She knew little things, like his morning routine. How he was an early riser and moved so quietly as he got ready for his day that she never heard him, only saw him.

  Jayne knew what he liked to drink and was even beginning to tell just how strong to make it based on the expression he wore when he finally sat down to try and relax at home. But she didn’t know D’Anil. She knew nothing of his past or his family, hardly even of his friends besides the couple at the auction. He was a stranger, and he was right. He really didn’t owe her anything.

  The brown-haired man followed her posture and crossed his own arms. “Consider it security detail.”

  “You’d be perfect, then, for helping us!”

  “Yeah, but you’re not paying me, are you?”

  Jayne pursed her lips. Right. There was one thing she knew. D’Anil liked money. Well, he liked making money. His apartment was nice, but it was nothing extravagant. And he rarely went out to eat, never socialized with anyone, be it co-workers or family or friends. It wasn’t because he was poor though. He just never did anything with his wealth.

  “How much?” she asked.

  Amused, D’Anil smirked. “More than you could afford.”

  Jayne tried her question again. “How. Much?”

  His smirk died as he looked at the seriousness in her eyes. Suddenly interested, his body straightened, hands dropping to his sides. D’Anil pursed his lips in thought, while Jayne tried to maintain eye contact instead of looking at the way his lips puckered. She’d had a hard time with that for the past month, not staring at his mouth, and she needed to focus now. He exhaled through his nose. “1,000 imdallions,” he said, “That’s what they paid me to do the job in the first place.”

  “Who?”

  “No questions,” D’Anil replied, now looking more serious than Jayne did, “If I do this, you don’t get to ask any questions.” After all, it was going to be the only way that his planet still ended up being saved. He was never the one to play politics, but he told himself that in this situation, it had to happen.

  “Fine.” She extended her hand out. “Shake on it, and it’s a deal.” She didn’t know how she would get the money for him, or even how much imdallions were in comparison to a U.S. dollar. But there would have to be some reward money, surely, for helping them out. If he does help us out, Jayne thought, Just because he’s not a smuggler doesn’t make him any better. He still helped herd a bunch of women through a desert just for cash.

  Something flickered across his face. Jayne thought it was confusion, thinking maybe it was just that shaking hands wasn’t a Drunae tradition on deal-making. But she’d seen people shake hands at the marketplace. Still, there was something… Confused, almost. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he looked wounded. “You’re getting what you want, aren’t you?” she asked, “Money?”

  He took her hand and shook firmly, both ignoring the urge to pull the other closer. “Fine, it’s a deal,” D’Anil said resolutely, “I’m going to bed. We’ll get your friend in the morning,” he said resolutely, retiring to his bedroom. The door slammed shut behind him before Jayne’s motor mouth could even try to argue with him some more.

  She just stood there in the kitchen, the pot of soup still on the stove and the dishes in the sink. There was something changing about their relationship now, and Jayne wasn’t sure if she liked it. As fake as it was, they had had a dynamic before.

  One that was almost like friends. Now they were business partners, and the part of her that was actually truly interested in getting to know D’Anil could feel any chances of getting behind that façade of his slipping away.

  Chapter Six

  He told her to dress nice, that she would need to blend in. “And you can’t talk,” D’Anil advised, “You’re a slave. That means-“

  “That I don’t matter and I don’t have an opinion?” she offered, finishing for him. He sighed as they stood in her bedroom, him leaning against the doorframe with a look of disapproval. Jayne smiled softly. “I was kidding. I did fine when we went to the market, didn’t I?”

  They had several trips to the market, and each one turned out fine. At least, there was nothing that Jayne could see went wrong, no funny looks. In fact, people hardly looked at her, which D’Anil explained to her at the time as them trying not to acknowledge what she was, an illegal import. They just kept their eyes on him, their smiles directed at him.

  “Taking a politician’s slave is different than buying tonight’s groceries,” D’Anil replied dryly.

  Jayne pursed her lips, running her hands over her dark blue dress, liking the feel of the cool, silky fabric. There were shorts on beneath it, something more suitable for running through a desert. D’Anil told her to dress for function beneath, but to try to look as pretty as a trophy wife on the surface.

  Unlike him, who always wore leathers, and he hardly groomed his hair back or combed through his beard. He looked more than ready to travel through a desert. In fact, it looked like he already had. “This is what’s normal for me,” he explained when she first questioned it.

  “You know, I’m going to find out whoever it is that bought her. You won’t be able to hide that from me when we get there.”

  “Yeah, we’ll see about that,” D’Anil mumbled.

  Jayne smirked softly. There was a
vehemence in his tone, and she didn’t doubt that he would try to conceal it as best as he could. Is that what made him as terrible as the rest of them? The fact that he tried to hide their crimes, that he helped them and would let it continue if he could?

  It was hard to condemn D’Anil while he was helping her, but she had to keep something straight in her mind, her promise to Sophie to get everyone out of this and to punish those that made them go through it in the first place. Whether it was his friend, an ex-lover, or a family member, the only thing that mattered was that he was protecting them.

  She slipped on her shoes, simple slippers. D’Anil told her not to pack an extra pair. It would only be two or three days of a trip to the abandoned military base, where they were headed. And the light fabric would do her well in the hot sand. Once finished, Jayne walked to the door where he leaned, their eyes meeting. The woman tilted her head down to her outfit. “Do I get the ‘okay’?” she asked.

  D’Anil straightened, looking over Jayne’s appearance, to make sure her traveling clothes were well-hidden, and that what she was wearing would be good enough for what they were planning to. She found herself almost embarrassed under his gaze, as business-like as it was supposed to be.

  Her mind wandered briefly to the fact that this was still more of her body than he’d seen when they spent the night by the fire. Her white gown then had been so boxy and unattractive, like a hospital gown. This dress fit much more to her curves, the high waist accentuating her breasts and the hem falling gracefully over her backside and down to mid-thigh.

  It was also sleeveless, unlike her last dress, and as she watched his brown eyes move down to the hem, following up to her hands that played with the end of the fabric, all the way back up to her shoulders and exposed collarbone, Jayne wondered if he was thinking the same thing too. Or if he could see that her skin was starting to flush.