Snowed in With the Alien Warlord

by Nancey Cummings

“I belong to you? If anything, you belong to me. I pulled you out of the river. You owe me.” Penny jabbed a finger at his chest. It was like poking stone.

  He snorted. With the tusks, it was a move very much like a warthog: stubborn and downright ugly. “I distracted the Suhlik, allowing you to flee. Which you did not.”

  “Oh boo-hoo, I stuck around and saved you from drowning. I think that makes us even. No one owes anyone anything.”

  Kol took another step closer. They stood inches apart, each studying the other. Anger vibrated through Penny and her clenched fists.

  “You wear my covering,” Kol said at length, plucking at her coat sleeve.

  “I found this,” Penny said, jerking her arm back.

  “Because I left it for you to find. Along with packages of food.”

  It had been convenient how Penny had found the new, pristine coat waiting not far from where she abandoned her old one. The Suhlik had been close and she needed a quick exit. The quickest exit was through a fence, but her coat got tangled. She wiggled out of it and left it behind rather than get caught. She returned days later, hoping to find her coat but instead found a new one still in the packaging.

  So he gave her a coat, big deal. Did that mean she belonged to him? That she owed him anything more than basic decency? And the so-called food had been nothing more than bars of seeds and nuts and a weird protein paste a bit like peanut butter that smelled like foot and tasted as advertised.

  Penny lifted her chin. “Around here, leaving stuff on the ground is called littering and it’s a crime.”

  Kol laughed, his deep voice guffawing. It was disconcerting to see something so human come out of a face so very not human. “A male provides food and protection for his female.”

  “Yeah, no,” Penny said. She pulled out a storage box filled with the bars. “I wouldn’t call this stuff food.”

  “You did not consume the nourishment?” Mirth vanished from his face as he plucked out a bar.

  “Sure, help yourself,” Penny muttered.

  He unwrapped the bar and sniffed it. Finding nothing offensive about the foot-flavored peanut butter, he took a bite. “This contains all the nutrition a Terran requires. Why have you not eaten it?”

  “Honestly, I haven’t been that hungry. Or desperate.”

  “I fear you are malnourished,” he said, voice growing serious. “Eat a bar.”

  “Pass.”

  He held out a bar. “Eat it.”

  “I said no.” She planted her feet, hands on hips.

  “Eat. It.” He pushed the bar right in her face. The aroma of nuts and peanut butter and feet overwhelmed her. She considered clamping her mouth shut and turning her back, but Kol was bigger than her. If he wanted her to eat the foot-flavored snack, he could shove it down her throat and there wasn’t much she could do about it.

  “Fine. Fine!” Penny snatched the bar and ripped open the foil wrapper. She took a bite and forced herself to chew and not retch. That took more work than expected. Once she swallowed, she shoved the rest the snack back at Kol. “There. Satisfied?”

  “You will eat one of these a day,” he said with authority. His tone implied that he was a man used to giving orders and having them followed.

  “I will do no such thing.”

  “You require nutrition.”

  “Do I look like I’m starving to you?” She slapped her generous hip for emphasis. Kol followed her movement with interest and, honest to goodness, he licked his lips. Penny had instant regret.

  “If you will not eat the nutrition bars, then I will have to bring you to the secured zones where other foodstuffs are available.”

  She wanted that. Desperately. Just yesterday she had despaired over finding a way over the bridge into the secured zones. The radio broadcasts promised that the refugee camps had shelter, water, plumbing, food and medical care for anyone who could reach them. They probably also had proper food, not just the nutritionally adequate but disgusting ration bars. Maybe they had bread. Penny wanted them to have bread. Bland sliced white bread, thick and dry wheat… she didn’t care. She hadn’t tasted a baked good since October and she craved bread. She dreamed about English muffins drenched in butter and topped with strawberry jam.

  Her stomach growled. She wasn’t hungry, not really, but she took another bite of the disgusting-but-nutritious bar, hoping to kill her appetite. “I won’t go if it means I’m in your debt,” she said, chewing around the nuts and bad taste.

  “There is no debt. My orders are to scout the perimeter and seek out survivors.”

  “So we’re even stevens?”

  Kol rubbed his chin. “I am Vadi Kol. Not Even Steven.”

  “I mean, if seeking out survivors are your orders, then dropping off supplies for survivors is not a favor. I don’t owe you. Ergo, you don’t own me. I don’t belong to you.”

  “You are my mate.”

  “Nope.” So not going to happen. They were just talking in circles now.

  “When the Suhlik incursion is over, I will claim you according to the treaty.” He ran his hands down her arms, rubbing lightly. She shouldn’t have liked it. She should have pushed him away and told him not to touch her but wanted his touch. She wanted to lean right into him and purr. He brushed her cheek and her jaw and damn if she didn’t lean into his touch, hating how her body responded to him. He smelled so good. He had half-drowned in the river and that thing stank in the summer, and he hadn’t washed, so he had no right smelling so damn good.

  “The other males will be envious that I found my female so quickly and jealous that she is so fine a specimen. I will present you to my father and he will see that our bloodline will be strong for another generation. Then I will plant my son in your womb.” His hand skimmed down her front and rested over her stomach.

  Penny was on the cusp of agreeing, even if she didn’t know how he could plant anything when he didn’t have a dick, not one that she could find, when the meaning of his words sank in. It sounded as if Kol intended to use her as a broodmare.

  Not cool. So not cool.

  She slapped away his hand and backed up to the far side of the room. Being close to him was dangerous. He must emit some pheromone because he smelled too good and it clouded her head.

  “Pen-knee—” he said, moving towards her.

  “Stay away from me. Just, don’t. Not right now. I can’t think when you’re close to me.”

  “Because you can tell we are mates.” He nodded as if this were the most obvious information.

  “What? No. No,” she repeated, trying to make her voice firm and not panicked. “I don’t know you and I’m not going to make babies with you.”

  “I am Vadi Kol. I have said this several times.” He frowned. “Did you injure your head?”

  “I know your name, but I don’t know you so keep your hands to yourself, mister.”

  “According to the Mahdfel-Earth treaty, you will be tested for compatibility and you will be assigned a mate,” Kol said. “You are for me.”

  The treaty. News broadcasters on the radio skirted around the actual terms of the Mahdfel-Earth alliance. If the Earth authorities sold out the women like cattle, like…

  She was going to be sick.

  Penny sank to the floor. All those old men in Washington and the military sold out the female half of the population without so much as a public hearing or a leaked memo or a press conference. They kept it secret because selling off the women to aliens was wrong. Wrong and barbaric, and they kept it hidden because no one would allow themselves to be sold off as baby-makers for aliens unless the war was going really poorly. Unless it was unwinnable, then maybe doing something so horrific could be tolerated.

  Her stomach churned and the ration bar threatened to make a second appearance. Penny concentrated on her breathing to keep down the bile at the back of her throat.

  “You must drink.” Kol shoved a bottle of water at her. She pushed it away. She didn’t want anything from him or his kind.

  “Th
is is some kind of con,” she said. “You and the others, the Suhlik. They show up, wreck the planet, and make us desperate and weak and hungry. Then your lot arrives with promises to protect us and make the bad guys go away, but you don’t do it for free. What do you expect to get from us? Sex slaves? Breeders? I suppose the price doesn’t matter because we’re so desperate we’d agree to anything.” To modern slavery. The aliens were nothing but con artists, working in tandem, and their con worked. It absolutely worked.

  Kol crouched down next to her. She scooted away more for the symbolism of defiance than needing space. She didn’t belong to him, no matter what some old men in Washington decided. “Pen-knee—”

  “Oh, please. Don’t try to soften me up by mispronouncing my name. It’s not cute.”

  “My people are the Mahdfel,” he said.

  She folded her arms over her chest. The radio said as much.

  “We were once the slaves of the Suhlik.”

  The radio didn’t mention that.

  “Many generations ago, the Suhlik took us from our world. This was so far in the past that we do not remember our origins or our name. The Suhlik took everything from us. Everything.” He thumped his chest for emphasis. “They changed us. Shaped us into their tools. Their weapons. They made us stronger, faster, and gave us the ability to heal from most any wound. We were forged with two driving instincts: to battle and to breed.”

  Penny swallowed around the lump in her throat. She didn’t like the way Kol looked at her when he talked about his instinct to breed. “If you were such superior weapons, why were you slaves?”

  “A Mahdfel can only produce a son. We have no daughters.” Kol paused as if this explained everything.

  It took a moment for the wheels to turn in Penny’s mind, but the shape of the story clicked into place. “They controlled the supply of women and used that to control you.”

  “They would hold our families hostage, threatening to harm them if a warrior disobeyed or performed poorly.”

  “Then why have families? Why didn’t you refuse the women they gave you?” If families were used to control the Mahdfel, they should have rejected the entire situation.

  Kol placed a hand over his heart—well, where a human heart would be. “We have a need deep inside for a family. The Suhlik put it there. Until I hold my son in my arms, I am not complete. Hollow.”

  “And the other thing they put in you? The need to fight?”

  A horrific grin split his red face. “Oh, yes. I am very good at that.”

  To battle and to breed. If what Kol said were true, his people had been genetically engineered with those two driving instincts. Penny shivered. “Then what happened?”

  Kol knelt before her. “The stories do not agree on the specifics. We rebelled. We broke free. Many perished. Some were saved. Those who remain fight our former masters. We have followed them across the stars, from planet to planet.”

  “And you help those planets?”

  “We form alliances.”

  “You help for a price.” A bride price.

  “We form an alliance and trade resources,” he said, tone firm. “Allies trade resources. This is not a concept we developed. Our resource to trade is our considerable skill and expertise in fighting the Suhlik. We require females, which our allies often have in abundance.”

  So many questions warred inside her. How did the Suhlik target planets? What did they get out of it? Were they just chaotic evil in the universe? But that made no sense. No one was evil for the sake of it. They had motivations, so what were the Suhlik’s? And how did the Mahdfel select their brides? Did they just snatch a gal off the street if she looked good? Or leave her care packages in the snow?

  She shivered again. “What about the women? Don’t they get a say?”

  “The decision has already been made,” he said. “This is beyond us.”

  Penny narrowed her eyes. Really? Because it seemed very specific to their situation. “I have a life here. I have family here. I want to finish college and… Dammit. I don’t have to explain myself to you. I don’t care about any treaty and I do not belong to you.”

  He nodded, as if expecting her words. “My mother once felt the same. She was proud and demanded that my father prove himself.”

  “This isn’t about my pride, Kol,” she snapped. Aliens. They ruined everything. “It’s about me having some damn control over my life.”

  “I was born on a planet call Rolusdreus.” He paused, waiting for a reaction from Penny. She eventually waved her hand as a signal to continue the story. “It is dry and arid now, but once it was lush and green.”

  “Let me guess, the Suhlik fuck up shit.”

  “Indeed. The Mahdfel helped liberate the planet, but not before the environment was destroyed. The Rolusians adapted and once a year they brought their daughters to the ithasol. This was in the days before the genetic test, so warriors had to seek out their mate by scent.”

  “Wait, scent?” That sounded ridiculous.

  “Pregnancy is dangerous. We want our mates to thrive and our sons to be strong. We seek out the most compatible female.”

  “By scent.” Still ridiculous.

  “That is the old way. Now we have a genetic test. It eliminates doubts and allows for the best match.”

  Penny had plenty of doubt. “Look, nice story, but I’m not buying what you’re selling. I don’t care what you think you smell, but I’m not your woman, your mate, your anything.”

  “My mother said the same words to my father. She demanded that he prove himself before she allowed him to claim her. And he did. Their son stands before you now, asking for the same opportunity to prove himself.” He bowed, folding himself down until his forehead nearly touched the floor. His extended hand laid palm up, empty.

  Penny couldn’t look at him when he was so earnest and vulnerable. There had to be a loophole. Contracts always had loopholes. Maybe she wouldn’t have the right genes. Maybe being in school would work, like with the draft in the old days. She’d just stay in school forever. Easy. Despite the fact that Kol still smelled frustratingly appealing, Penny was completely turned off by the you’re-my-woman-and-you-don’t-get-a-choice speech. Yup. It didn’t matter how many packs his abs had or that it was kind of cute when his tail twitched as he spoke—she’d find a way out of this. No way was she marrying an alien.

  “How,” she eventually said.

  “I will bring you to the secured zone.” Kol straightened as he answered.

  “How did your father win your mother?”

  “He challenged his warlord and became the leader of his clan.”

  That sounded difficult and nearly impossible. She could demand he do the same. It worked in fairy tales. Spin straw into gold. Make a rope out of ash.

  Penny thought long and hard. She went back to the card table and picked up the comm unit, long forgotten; the source of all this trouble. “Okay,” she said, reaching a decision. “I’ll let you prove yourself.”

  Kol swept her into his embrace. She squirmed her way out. “On one condition.”

  “I eagerly anticipate your terms.” His tail flicked from side to side in a disturbingly sinuous motion.

  “You wait until I claim you.” She paused, waiting for his reaction. His eyes blazed, but he did not appear upset. “No touching without my permission. No kissing. No sex unless I say so. And I want to read this treaty for myself.” Considering that he had shoved his hands down her pants like right off the bat, she needed to put the brakes on that behavior now, before things got complicated. More complicated. Her traitorous body wanted his touches and kisses, but she could resist temptation because her gut told her that Kol wasn’t a casual sex kind of guy. He played for keeps. If they made love, he’d never let her go.

  The idea of physically being with Kol didn’t repulse her, not like how she expected, but the idea of being his woman made her want to run in the other direction.

  “Agreed,” he said. “I will win your heart.”

 
Joke was on him. It was never going to happen.

  Chapter Six

  Penny

  Days passed. Well, it felt like days. Penny slept twice and ate four times. Not once did the snow stop or the wind die down. To conserve the lanterns, she and Kol sat in the dark. There was next to no light with the storm still raging, and if something happened they’d need the lantern light. The smart thing was to conserve power and learn to navigate the basement in the dark. Besides, the candle heater cast enough light to get by. Not enough to read by but enough to not walk into the furniture.

  Kol didn’t seem to have that problem. He prowled through the dark like a creature of the night. Patrol, he called it. He patrolled the house. What he found on patrol, or what he expected to find, he never said. Satisfied his armor was dry, he suited up. The poncho went over the armor. A strip taken from the hem was tied around his waist as a belt, turning the poncho into a very unflattering tunic.

  He had to be cold to suffer the indignity of the blue plaid poncho but he did not complain. His silenced tugged at Penny’s heart. She couldn’t burn more candles. Like the lantern, they needed to converse resources. The storm had been going for days and showed no signs of easing.

  The desire to read itched at her. With nothing but time and a pile of books, she wanted nothing more than to curl up in a story and forget herself for a few hours. The flickering glow of the candle heater was not enough and she needed to conserve the lanterns, so she kept the books near and unread.

  Kol produced a copy of the treaty on his comm unit, helpfully translated into the ten most common Earth languages. Apparently the Mahdfel expected to meet resistance with the human population when it came to enforcing the terms of the treaty and producing the letter of the law resolved confrontations. She read it again and again, searching for her loophole.

  The terms were highly specific. Whoever had negotiated the treaty didn’t leave anything by way of outs for women. Any woman who was single, childless and healthy had to submit to annual testing. ‘Single’ was anyone not engaged or married. Engagements had a limit of three years. Penny didn’t particularly want to rush off and get married just to avoid possibly marrying an alien, but there would be plenty of people who did just that. Possibly even plenty of men who would offer themselves up for a “green card” style marriage for a price. No thank you.