The Alien Assassin’s Convenient Wife: An ‘In The Stars’ Romance

by Dixon, Ruby

  We head in a bit further, and I cling to the big alien's hand. These might be Earth people, but I have no idea what's going on. Did we wander into a corporate party? Another couple nearby is dirty dancing, and there's a naked older woman lying on a table as a “sushi” platter. Er. This is not like any corporate party I've been to, and I'm wondering what the hell we've walked into.

  "Hi there. You must be new." A man comes up to us with a large tray and a fishbowl. He gives me an up-and-down look that makes me break out in goose bumps, because he's practically stripping me with his eyes. "We love fresh meat around here. Drop your key here and I'll give you bracelets for the bar."

  He holds out the fishbowl, and in it, I see several more room keys.

  All of a sudden, I know what this is. I look around, and I see several of the people are older. These aren't young partiers. Some of them are young, sure, but there are also gray-haired individuals. A woman with a soccer mom haircut is sandwiched between two men in the area designated as the “dance floor,” and another couple watches me and Jadzion from afar. As I make eye contact, the man winks at me and lifts his chin, inviting us over.

  Oh my god.

  Oh my god. I know what this is.

  Horrified, I stare as the man urges the fishbowl toward us again. I don't even realize I'm holding our key until Jadzion hesitates, then takes it from my fingers and puts it in the bowl.

  The man hands us two plastic bracelets and gives me a leering look. "Don't lose those. The drinks help the first timers loosen up."

  "We are looking for Neville Goodsir,” Jadzion says. "Have you seen him?"

  "I'm sure he's here somewhere. You'll get to know everyone over the weekend." With another coy look to me, he heads away, losing himself in the throng.

  I turn to Jadzion, my eyes wide. "This is bad."

  "Why is this bad? He’s here somewhere." He frowns at a couple that dances closer to us, both of them eyeing Jadzion. He puts a hand to my waist and pulls me closer. "Why are these people staring so much? Is my pigment flaring?"

  "No. They're staring because they want to fuck us," I whisper to him. "This is a swingers party."

  "I do not follow you. What do they wish to swing upon?" He studies the group with narrowed eyes. "They look as if they’re dancing to me."

  I grab his hand and haul him through the crowd, avoiding eye contact, until we're at the edge of the room, more or less hiding behind a potted plant. Across from us, three people—all men—are wildly making out on a sofa while a woman watches nearby with her hand under her skirt. "This isn't a relationship retreat, not the way you and I think of it. This is a swingers party. Or club. Or whatever."

  "Okay," he says blankly, and it's clear he doesn't grasp the problem.

  "They are married couples here to fuck other married couples!"

  Jadzion's brows draw together, and then he looks out on the people nearby. A pretty woman seated next to her husband smiles at him, caressing her breast in blatant invitation. I'm absurdly pleased when Jadzion physically recoils and pulls me tighter to him. "They want to fuck you?"

  "Not just me, you too."

  He growls low in his throat. "But you belong to me."

  Now why does that fill me with such giddy pleasure? "All these people are probably married but looking to play. They're going to assume that we're the same—that we don't care about that sort of thing if we're here."

  Jadzion hides me behind his big body, and I'm sandwiched between his back and the wall. "I don’t like this at all, Jenna."

  I tap his shoulder. "Me either. Let's just find your friend and go."

  He casts a glance over at me. "How?"

  "Well, I guess we mingle," I tell him. "And open a lot of doors." I wrinkle my nose at the thought. "I'm ready if you are."

  "I'm not ready," he snarls at me.

  I giggle. I kind of have to. It's just been the most ludicrous day.

  10

  JADZION

  I do not understand these humans.

  At all.

  They have their truemates at their sides. I see the rings that Jenna mentioned on many fingers. But as I watch, females go from partner to partner, and males stare at the mates of other males. This…goes against everything that I am. How can these males touch other females? How can they watch as their female disappears into the arms of another? One male reaches for Jenna as we emerge and it takes everything I have not to pull my blaster on him and sear a new hole in his head.

  She.

  Is.

  Mine.

  "Jadzion, your color's rising," she murmurs as she slips her hand into mine. "Are you okay?"

  "No," I bite out. "I am not okay. But I’ll manage." I doubt these humans would notice if I turned green. They are all too busy staring at my beautiful, desirable Jenna. They are smelling her pheromones on the air. Suddenly, I don't care about my mission. I want to destroy all of them for looking at her improperly.

  "Let's just find a quiet place and start there, all right? He can't blend in all that much." She touches my arm and points at the far end of the busy, noisy room full of too-attentive humans, and I pull her close, tucking her under my shoulder and glaring at anyone that looks at her for too long. We manage to make it to the opposite wall and I pull her behind me again, scowling. She taps my arm and pushes her way out, looking around with determination. "The sooner we find this guy, the sooner we can get back out of here."

  "If you feel unsafe—"

  "It's okay. Really. Just don't leave my side, all right?" She loops her hand into the crook of my arm, and normally that would set off my raging need, but right now I'm raging in an entirely different way. I'm barely holding it together, because if another male comes close to her, I'm going to rip him to shreds. The possessiveness that comes with finding one’s truemate has gripped me hard, and I welcome it.

  Let another male even breathe her air and he will no longer have lungs, because I will pull them out his throat.

  “Breathe,” she tells me calmly, and then gestures at a cluster of people nearby that are not mating. “Let’s ask if anyone’s seen your twin brother.”

  “Heriot? But he is not—”

  “He’s not here, I know. I mean our bad guy. Everyone’s going to think you’re the same even though I know you’re not. But it’ll be easier to pick out that way.”

  Ah. Clever. I nod, and when she tugs me forward, I let her lead, my hand furtively on my blaster. I do not know who I want to shoot more, my true target or the next male that looks at my Jenna. My skin itches with the need to protect her, to drive the other males away with force. I no longer care about my mission nearly as much as I care about Jenna, and this could be a problem.

  Heriot will definitely have my head for this, but I find I no longer care too much about that, either.

  Claiming Jenna is my sole priority.

  JENNA

  I can tell that I'm losing Jadzion as the moments pass. As we work our way through the crowd, he becomes distant and his color begins to rise. I don't know if it's because he wants to “mate,” as he calls it, or if he's about to lose his shit on the other partygoers, but either way, we have to find our guy soon.

  So I take charge. Pulling him along with me, I work my way in toward a group of men who are talking and drinking wine, and I smile invitingly so that they welcome us forward—and then I make sure to wrap Jadzion's arms around my waist so they know I'm taken. "Hi there. I'm looking for my husband's twin brother. Have you seen him?" And I wink, letting them think all kinds of dirty things about what I want with twins.

  The men laugh, but no one's seen him, so we move on.

  Three groups later—and just as many propositions—I'm beginning to worry that we're not going to have any luck. At my side, his hand clasped in mine, Jadzion is struggling. His flushed skin is edging towards reddish, and now I can't even say that the guy we're looking for is Jadzion's twin, unless he's having the flushing problem, too. We move past the dance floor area again, and this time, some drunk
guy rubs up against me.

  "You do not get to touch her!" Jadzion bellows, and he grabs the man by the front of his shirt.

  People scream around us, and I manage to wedge my way between Jadzion and the terrified guy. "No, no no no," I say to Jadzion, pulling him away. "He's just here to have fun, remember? Focus on me, babe." The affectionate term rolls off my tongue so easily and it seems to settle him. His wild eyes focus on me for a long moment, and I carefully pry his fingers off of the man's open-collar shirt before Jadzion rips it off him (or rips the hide off of him, either one). I can't tell if he's flushed with anger or need, but either one is a problem. I smooth my hand down his chest, noting how heavily he's breathing and the hammer of his heart. He needs to relax. If his mission involves stealth, it won't do any good for him to lose his shit in front of fifty people.

  And I really, really would prefer not to go to jail.

  The thought's a sobering one. Jadzion's going to kill a man and I'm going to help him. What happens to me after this? No one will believe I was helping an alien save the world. It sounds utterly crazypants. Heck, I wouldn't believe Jadzion was an alien except for the fact that I've seen his spaceship. Jadzion himself won't be here to back up the validity of my story—he'll be long gone. All of this just reminds me that stealth really is of the essence unless I want to wear an orange jumpsuit for the rest of my days.

  "Why don't we find a private room and think about what we want tonight?" I tell him encouragingly, hoping my look is enticing and my words vague enough that it won't set anyone off.

  Jadzion's nostrils flare, but then he nods, putting a possessive arm around my shoulders and drawing me so close against his chest that I'm practically smothered by his shirt. In a weird way, I don't mind, though. I've never felt so freaking sexy or in control.

  We move back to the edge of the room and I shoot people apologetic little smiles as if to say, Sorry my man's so possessive. A few people don't look thrilled, but eventually the dance floor closes ranks once more and people get back to getting their groove on, especially after one of the soccer moms takes off her top. Jadzion is silent, and when we get near the wall, I turn, link his arms around my waist and hold him against me, my back pressing to his front. This way, he's trapped against me but can hold onto me if he needs to steady himself.

  I wait for him to fight me on it, or to try and pry himself out of my embrace, but he only holds tightly to me, and I can feel the heat of his erection against my backside. I wiggle backward against him provocatively, pretending to look out on the crowd. In reality, I'm starting to feel as scattered as him, and all because of his nearness. One of us has to focus, I chide myself, and concentrate on our surroundings.

  "Thank you," Jadzion leans down and murmurs against my ear. "It seems I’m not myself around you."

  "Just remember we have to keep a low profile," I remind him. "We'll find our guy. Let's just be patient."

  "We can’t be that patient," he tells me, and rubs his length against my backside. "My color will be darker by the minute."

  Well, shit. I squeeze his hands where they rest on my waist and try to think. Do we sneak into a nearby room and take care of the problem? Ignore it and hope no one notices the bright red man in the room? Is there some other option I'm just not thinking of? I rack my brain, trying to pick apart our problem by all angles and the only solution I keep coming to is to take him somewhere private and work his cock.

  Or maybe it's the only thing I can think of because it's what I want to do. My body's still humming from earlier in the bathroom, and my pussy's wet with aching need. Being at a swingers party isn't helping things. I'm both shocked and a little turned on by the excess I'm seeing around us.

  A brunette woman from across the room meets my eye and smiles brightly at me. I smile back and then keep looking at the partygoers, even as Jadzion's hands slide up and down my hips, as if he wants desperately to put them somewhere else. And okay, thinking about all the places he could put them has my nipples hard. Now I'm as distracted as he is. I'm so distracted, in fact, that I don't notice the brunette until she's standing next to me and Jadzion, eyeing the two of us. She gives him a sultry look and then turns that equally sultry gaze on me, her smile friendly and promising much more than conversation. "Must be one of those weekends for sunburns, huh? Your sexy husband's pretty red."

  "He's fine," I tell her, and I'm a little shocked at how pissy and jealous my tone is.

  She just giggles and raises a wineglass. "Dr. Goodsir has the same problem. I saw him earlier tonight—bright red as could be. You guys must have been out on the lake all weekend like he was."

  I freeze, the blood pounding in my veins. Jadzion clasps a hand tightly on my shoulder but says nothing, and I force myself to continue smiling at the woman, even though I feel like shaking the information out of her. He's here. The other alien is here. "Have you seen him recently? I wanted to talk to him."

  She pouts and takes a sip of her drink. "He ran off with Nancy and my husband. They're probably in the pool." She shrugs and reaches out to trace a finger down my arm. "We could always—"

  Jadzion grabs her finger and leans into the woman's face, holding her in place, trapped. "You will not touch my Jenna."

  Her eyes go wide with terror. "Okay," she whispers, unmoving.

  "Babe," I call again, and touch his hand. He lets the woman go, turning back to me. His color's getting darker, but that doesn't matter. "Come on."

  The woman gives an outraged little squeak as I take Jadzion's hand in mine and drag him away from the crowd. No one else stops us, which is good, because Jadzion's looking darker and darker by the moment, and his dick is straining in the most mouth-watering way against his pants. We make it down a side hall, where the music is a bit more muffled and the only people are those furtively making out in corners.

  I pull him close so we can talk. "Did you hear what she said?"

  He just scowls. "She touched you—"

  "Focus. Come on." I tap his chest. "You have a job, remember?"

  He rakes a hand down his face, groaning. "I know. It grows more difficult to think straight by the moment. All I keep thinking of is how she touched you, and the invitation in her eyes, and it makes me crazy with anger and lust."

  I'm breathless at his admission, excitement and anxiety moving through me both. I love that he's so fascinated by me…but we can't lose track of why we're here. "She's no one. I wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for you. You heard what she said, though—Dr. Goodsir is at the pool." I grip his hand tightly. "We can find him and get your job taken care of. You can be done soon."

  Jadzion says, "You are right, of course." But he doesn't move. He just keeps gazing down at me, as if he's warring with what he wants. As if I might be more important than his job.

  But I can't be. He has to save my world, even if he's just doing it for a paycheck. "Come on," I tell him softly and take his hand in mine again. "Let's see if we can find the so-called 'doctor' alone." Because if he's not, we're going to need a game plan.

  With a grunt, Jadzion acknowledges my words and we head down the hall, looking for a directory.

  11

  JENNA

  A quick glance at the directory map next to the elevator shows that the pool is down on the first floor. We get back into the elevator and down a side hall that smells faintly of chlorine. There's a nearby abandoned housekeeping cart full of towels and toiletries, and I snag a towel, draping it over Jadzion's head to hide his flushed red coloring. "Keep that on your hair and rub it like it's wet and you're drying yourself off," I tell him as I grab his hand once more and lead him forward. "I'll be your eyes."

  "I haven't said thank you, have I?" Jadzion's voice cuts through the echoing quiet of the hall and makes me pause. I turn to look at him, and his eyes are blazing red in his face, showing just how full of hunger he is at the moment. "You've done so much to help me, Jenna. I don't know how I can ever repay you. I could do this job, of course, but not quietly. But you've made this so easy.
Being with you just feels so natural." He moves forward and gives me a long, intense stare. "It's like you were meant to be mine."

  Flustered, I bite my lip. "I'm just helping save my planet."

  "Is that all it is?"

  Is it? That's a great question and one I'm not sure I have the answer to. "We've only known each other for a few hours, Jadzion."

  "I don’t need more. Do you?"

  I gaze up at him, breathless. What do I say? That I'm just a few hours in to this wild ride but it feels like we're friends? That we could be so much more if given the time and opportunity? Or is that crazy? After all, I'm on a first date with an oversexed alien and we're on our way to kill a planet killer who’s posing as a relationship doctor that hosts swingers parties, so it's entirely plausible that I'm crazy.

  But if I am…I'm not sure it's a bad thing.

  "Jenna," he murmurs, leaning in, and then his scent and warmth are intoxicatingly near. His mouth is inches away from mine, and he touches under my chin, as if he's going to kiss me again.

  "Let's get the bad guy first," I whisper.

  "I have an entire diurnal rotation in which to capture him. We can take a few minutes for ourselves."

  That's kind of what I'm afraid of. What if we take those minutes and I want them to turn into hours…or weeks…or more? What if I'm not ready for him to fly away when he does tomorrow? I swallow hard at the thought. "We should get him and get out of here before anyone remembers our faces, Jadzion. Let's play it safe."

  He watches me for a moment longer, then grunts acknowledgment. "Very well." He drapes the towel over his head, hiding his handsome features, and then stalks forward, toward the far end of the hall where the pool's frosted glass double doors are waiting.

  I trot after him, worried that I've hurt his feelings. One of us is going to have to hurt, though, right? Because if I don't tell him no, I'm going to be the one aching when he leaves me behind.

  The doors to the pool are heavily etched glass, so busy with intricate designs that they're opaque. I can't see anyone through them, and I hesitantly ease one door open, half expecting an after-hours alarm to go off. Nothing does, though, and it's all quiet inside, the hollow echo of a large chamber the only noise. It's all quiet, not even a splash, and I gaze out at the pool itself. It's a lap pool, sparkling blue with delineated lanes, and a half-circle with shallow steps for those who want to lounge. There's a hot tub off to one side of the large room, sunk into the floor itself, but other than that, the room is utterly empty.