by J. J. Lore
****
It was late. They’d retreated to their private suite, which had been touted as the finest the hotel could offer, but Edem fancied he could make out dust in the corners and frays on the window dressings nevertheless. Despite its shabby state, the rooms did offer what he and Mallet craved at the end of the day, privacy and freedom from the strictures of court life.
He pushed his fingers along Mallet’s oiled back muscles, searching for tense knots to rub loose. His bondmate hung his head and sighed deeply as he sprawled on the bed. Edem crouched over him, using his weight to deepen the massage of his bondmate’s back, thighs, and buttocks.
“Are you going to tell me about what triggered the lockdown, or not?”
Mallet closed his eyes and tightened his mouth, his profile looking as impregnable as a statue’s. Edem crooked a finger and dragged it along his bondmate’s ribs. The reaction was immediate and decisive. Mallet rolled under him, and somehow Edem found himself underneath the considerable weight of his scowling bondmate.
“You know I hate being tickled.”
“And you know I hate it when you keep things from me.”
They stared at each other, a stalemate soon broken when Mal leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “I just didn’t want to listen to you crow about being right for the next hour. It would make it difficult to relax and go to sleep.”
“There are other ways to relax.” Edem curved his body under Mal’s, enjoying the push and pull of his muscles, the warmth of his skin. His bondmate gave his head a brief shake and rose up to sit on the mussed bed.
“It was as you suspected. Someone saw a figure moving in the shadows with what seemed like a weapon. Review of the security footage revealed it was merely a cleaner with a mop. All that panic and disorder over one human’s nervous reaction. I’m beginning to think they’re all perpetually riddled with anxiety.”
“Who could blame them, considering the state of their planet? They know their days of comfort are ticking to a halt. Most of the population exists in squalor, and these few wealthy and powerful individuals can see the future will not treat them kindly. Their talk of a cultural exchange is poor camouflage for what they are truly after; safe passage to Alpha where they can start over and leave their fellow humans to extinction.”
Mal nodded and shrugged his shoulders a few times, likely trying to ease away the stress of being the bondmate, bodyguard, and majordomo of the crown prince of Alpha. Edem knew he was a trial, too impulsive, too uncooperative, but Mallet loved him anyway.
“In any case, you were right. There was nothing to fear.”
“At least it was proof all your drills were beneficial. It seemed it only took a few seconds before we reached that refuge in the kitchen.”
His bondmate nodded once and picked up Edem’s hand, stroking along his fingers. “I just failed to account for the presence of a human inside.”
“But she was quite lovely to meet. And look at.” Her eyes had been luminous grey, like the finest facets of sheret stone. Her clothing had been too modest to reveal much of what lay underneath, but her manner had been captivating.
Mal slanted a knowing look his way. “Anticipating some sort of recreations with her?”
“Do you think she’d have us both?” He flopped down on the bed and stared up at the plastered ceiling, only a few cracks visible. This was something he’d been speculating about since he’d met the little human female, among other things. Neither he nor Mal had engaged in relations with a woman since arriving on Earth. They had been isolated by concerns about security, and most of the human women they’d met were married. Human commitments were far less durable than an Alphan bond, but still, he and Mal would never partake in an adulterous encounter.
Blowing out a breath, Mal tilted his head to express indecisiveness. “It’s difficult to say. Human customs vary so much from region to region. Some of these women are eager to copulate with Alphans for recreation, and of course bonding has taken place with a number of our warriors, to some of your subjects’ dismay.”
Edem considered this. Despite the lack of females on Alpha, and the biological and emotional compatibility they shared with humans, there were some hardliners at home who were actively campaigning against accepting human women and their hybrid offspring as citizens and even proposing instituting purity laws in more extreme cases. It was most distressing when Edem’s kingdom needed the progeny these women could provide.
“Would you want to see her again?” Edem watched Mal as he proposed the question. They’d always shared lovers before, but that had been on Alpha, where the few unattached women had been eager to spend time with the prince and his kisero in the hopes that a bond would form. No bond had been forthcoming, and Edem was coming to realize Mal might be the only person he’d ever fall in love with.
“You seemed quite smitten with her. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“And you weren’t?” Edem sat up and faced his bondmate. “You were very gruff with her. It’s a wonder you didn’t make her cry between your rough search of her person and all the growling you did.”
Mal rumbled under his breath and made as if to leave the bed, but Edem caught at his arm and brought him back. He stroked his palm along his bondmate’s chest and waited for Mal to meet his gaze. The other man finally looked at him, and Edem was stunned by what he saw. Somehow his strong, decisive, formidable bondmate, the man who could best any opponent in battle and out-think any scheming politician, was uncertain. His eyes were shadowed with anxiety.
“I was too rough, wasn’t I?”
“She seemed to recover from your brusque treatment quite handily.” Edem paused for a moment, not sure if he should venture into this territory. “I would like to see her again, if you are willing.”
Mal sucked in a breath. “To what purpose?”
Why, to engage in bedsport until we all pass out from pleasure. “She interested me, and you can’t deny there was a connection between us.”
“Difficult to avoid a connection when confined in a cold room approximately two square meters in size.” Mal narrowed his eyes. “A human woman isn’t appropriate for us, and you know it.”
With difficulty, Edem restrained his impulse to roll his eyes. “I’m hardly suggesting we bond with her.”
“I don’t think it’s wise for us to become distracted. We leave this city, and this planet, soon enough.”
“Yes, and then we must make our choice among the single Alphan ladies of the court and undertake an alliance in order to strengthen the lineage. If we don’t, my cousin will be happy to step into place and take the crown.” The trip to Earth, dressed up in the guise of an official diplomatic envoy, was actually Edem and Mal’s last chance to travel before bending to the will of the king and getting started on producing the next generation of royals.
“Perhaps we should visit some outlying areas of Alpha, meet some likely women there who might spark our interest.” Mal made his suggestion with a quirked eyebrow and a gentle caress of Edem’s tousled hair. “A wild mountain girl who has no idea how to behave in a reception line.”
Edem didn’t care to consider some mythical mountain woman. The human female who’d caught his attention was far more enticing. “I’d rather get to know Corrine better.” Just the thought of enticing her into a kiss, watching those grey eyes flutter shut just before he or Mal pressed his lips to hers made his member warm and thicken. Would she taste different from an Alphan?
“Fine. We spend some time with Corrine and see what develops. When we return to Alpha, we must make one last attempt to find a bondmate. I don’t relish the idea of raising a child with a woman who isn’t ours heart and soul.”
“Agreed. When will you track down Corrine? I’d like it if you made that your first priority in the morning.”
Mal glanced down his body and took in Edem’s thickening staff. “Is that for me or the little human woman?”
Edem smiled and stretched on the bed. “Tonight it’s all yours.”
****
She had to find a place to live. The desperate refrain kept circling in Corrine’s head as she stirred the pot of vegetable soup simmering in the shelter’s largest pot. She was busy with all the little tasks of getting ready to serve a lunch to any person who wandered in from the street, but worry about her future made the normally engaging work of chopping up all the shopworn vegetables a grocery had donated that morning less than pleasant. At least the aromas of rising bread and simmering tomatoes were pleasant.
“Why don’t you just take the next available room upstairs?” Denton, her kitchen partner and all around decent man, jerked his chin up at the low ceiling overhead. The relief agency that ran the food pantry also provided several small rooms to people in need, but there was always a long waiting list. It wasn’t easy to find a safe, affordable place to sleep in this city. Hence her trouble.
“You know the managers like to keep those for mothers and children. And it would feel like favoritism if I jumped in line.”
“You’ll like feeling homeless and cold a lot less.” Denton shook his head. “You know I’d offer to put you up, but my wife’s brother is still crashing on our sofa.”
“I know, it’s not a problem. Maybe my aunt will change her mind.” Unlikely. Corrine’s step-aunt had been reluctant to take her in after her parents had died several years ago, and once she’d reached adulthood, the older woman had begun to make more and more frequent comments that she was going to move north to escape the heat and dust. Corrine knew it was no accident she wasn’t invited to come along, although how living in a similarly destitute city that suffered from ice and snow half the year was preferable, she didn’t know.
Corrine grabbed two teaspoons and dipped them into the soup, handing one off to Denton before tasting her own. It needed salt, which they had, and a couple of bay leaves, which they didn’t. Her aunt might make remarks about how Corrine was wasting her culinary school training by working to feed the destitute, but there were no employment opportunities in the narrowing pool of restaurants in town. Fewer and fewer people could afford to eat out, unless it was a free meal provided by a charity.
Denton turned away to pull trays of bread from their one functional oven, and Corrine scattered salt across the bubbling broth and impulsively shook in some dried oregano. Raised voices from the dining area caught her attention, and she wiped her hands on her apron. Several bangs echoed, and she grabbed up one of the old cast iron skillets stored by the stovetop, Denton repeating her movements. There had been some disturbances when drug addled folk stumbled in, assuming money might be on the premises, but they were usually convinced to leave with a roll and a kind word. More dangerous was a visit from the local criminal organization. They knew better than to look for payoffs, but still had to prove their superiority periodically by knocking over chairs and stealing bowls or baskets of food.
Corrine peeked out from the swinging doors that kept the kitchen hidden from view and drew in a shocked breath. Five enormous Alphans clad in the blue uniforms she remembered from the night before stood in the middle of the dining room, big booted feet planted on the cracked linoleum, horns nearly brushing the suspended ceiling tiles. They glanced around the room, taking in the mismatched chairs and tilted tables with impassive expressions. The few early lunchers clutched their bread closer and watched the aliens with wide eyes.
“A frying pan isn’t going to make a dent on one of those … Alpha men,” Denton whispered, and she nodded agreement. “I’ve never seen one up close before. Why are they here? It ain’t for the soup.”
“What, you didn’t know my concoctions were famous across the galaxy?” Corrine shot back, humor her only recourse from the incredible sight in front of her.
“You can turn a crate of wilted spinach and some expired eggs into the best damned soufflé I’ve ever tasted, but I don’t think these fellows are here for the chow.”
Before she could thank him for the compliment, one of the Alphan officers spoke up.
“We seek the Corrine Idesa.”
Her stomach went cold. Had she done something wrong last evening? Edem and Mallet had carried themselves like they were men of some importance, and perhaps she’d offended one of them or broken some sort of Alphan taboo.
Squaring her shoulders, she pushed open the door and stepped into the room, eyeing the big men with caution. The one who spoke up looked her up and down and gave a nod.
“You are she. You are to come to the official residence this evening for a presentation of dining meal.”
Corrine concentrated on what he was saying, since it seemed he wasn’t as fluent as either Mallet or Edem. It sounded like she had picked up another job. “What time? Where?”
“An escort will escort,” he said, squinting his golden eyes as he caught how awkward that must have sounded. “Your location is noted, and the correct transit is plotted. We will collect you in five hours.”
He cocked his head, the big black horns on his head catching the light and reflecting it in a brief flash. The prospect of adding a bit to her meager savings made her smile. The Alphan blinked and took a step back. The group of officers drew themselves up even more stiffly and bowed their heads at her, dark hair sliding over the shoulders of their neatly tailored uniforms. One of the customers gave a little gasp, of surprise or fear Corrine couldn’t begin to guess. She was struggling with her own rather tumbled impressions.
As a unit, the aliens turned on their heels and exited the soup kitchen. Corrine hurried behind them and pushed aside the blackout curtain to peer through the front window and watch as they entered a heavy-looking craft. The fierce sunlight of noontime Georgia put every plate of armor in sharp relief. Once the Alphans were inside and the door closed, the vehicle rose a few feet in an improbable hover, then shot straight up into the sky, narrowly missing the malfunctioning street light leaning over the sidewalk.
Denton was by her side by then, also watching the exit of the vehicle. “What have you gotten yourself into?”
Corrine shrugged, completely at a loss.
Chapter Two
Mal went over the schedule one more time, trying to quell the uncharacteristic attack of nerves he was suffering by reassuring himself everything was taken care of. They’d decided to take their meal in the main dining room of the hotel rather than in private as he’d felt it might give Corrine the wrong impression. This necessitated careful negotiation with the restaurant manager since all the remaining tables would have to remain empty for security reasons. The price was a small one to pay. He’d also done two security sweeps of all the entry points and stationed an officer at every door on the ground floor in addition to doubling the size of the mobile patrol unit. After the ruckus at the embassy the evening before, his men were eager to put on a show of force and impress their human hosts with their vigor.
Edem circled the table, inspecting the place settings and poking his finger into the flower arrangement in the center. He’d spent most of the day in meetings with dignitaries and business operators, but they had carved out some time to meet with two different gem brokers, which had resulted in some spectacular purchases.
“Mal, do you think the yellow will suit, or should we replace it with something less strident?” The prince hoisted up the silver bowl of chrysanthemums, and Mal stepped to his side in time to right the vessel and prevent a spill of water on the table. The maître d’ fluttered in the background, clearly frightened that he’d have to re-set with a clean cloth just before the guest’s arrival.
“Yellow is fine. Put it down.”
Edem shot him a quick glance full of amusement, then arranged his features into a more serious mien as he turned to the anxious server. “The setting is satisfactory. Please inform your staff that as soon as our guest arrives, service may begin.”
The man scurried off, the hems of his faded trousers dragging on the worn carpet. Mal would be so happy to say goodbye to this sad planet. The chime of his communicator alert distracted him from his musin
gs. The escort had arrived, and its leader, Durant, wanted to speak with him. Had there been some trouble on the way? He had noticed fresh anti-Alphan graffiti on one of the walls near the hotel that very morning.
“Yes, centurion, what is it?”
“Sir. The Corrine Idesa is with us, but we cannot bring her inside.”
“Of course you can, do so immediately.” Mal cut off the officer’s attempt to speak up with a flick of his thumb on the device. “She’s here, Edem.”
His bondmate brightened and strode to his side, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Let’s greet her at the door. I wonder what she’ll be wearing. I hope it’s something soft and colorful.”
Mal glanced down at his own standard dress uniform and over at Edem’s, which matched his in all but color. They were both wearing the gem chips of rank on their shoulders, and Edem had of course forgone even the most minimal crown for this evening’s appointment. His bondmate disliked the regalia of state and pared down his raiment to the bare minimum on every occasion. At the last changing of the guard ceremony on Alpha, Edem had somehow gotten all the way to the parade grounds before Mal noticed he’d left his state crown behind at the royal treasury. He’d had to send a special operations platoon back through the crowded streets to retrieve it. Edem had claimed a headache from the weight of the ancient thing that evening and demanded a massage. Mal smiled at the memory of what had followed. Having to travel incognito on Earth thrilled his bondmate, both for the subterfuge and the lack of official responsibilities.
They made their way to the dark wood doors of the restaurant, stopping underneath an admittedly beautiful crystal chandelier, missing only a few prisms. With a slight creak, the doors opened, and Durant entered while clutching a long canvas bag, and stepped aside as Corrine arrived. She was dressed identically as the previous evening, heavy black shoes and trousers and a buttoned white coat that covered her from hip to throat. She’d even added a white cap to conceal her long blonde hair. She blinked her eyes at them and glanced around the deserted room.
