Spark: Galaxy Alien Mail Order Brides (Intergalactic Dating Agency)

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Spark: Galaxy Alien Mail Order Brides (Intergalactic Dating Agency) Page 6

by Michelle M. Pillow


  “You should put pants on before you go,” Blaze stated. “I have not seen anyone in such an outfit.”

  “Good idea.” She looked to where her pants were by his feet. Keeping her eyes on him, she cautiously extended her arm and leaned toward them. She heard Kal move on the bed and made a small noise of worry as she snatched her clothes from the ground. It was with relief that she was able to stand without being restrained.

  Kal made a move to come toward her. “Don’t leave—”

  “I had a lovely time,” she said as she rushed through the door carrying her pants. Over her shoulder, she yelled, “Thank you. Good luck finding your cousin. I hope it’s nothing serious.”

  It was only when she was down the hall and in the elevator that Carrie stopped long enough to finish dressing. She glanced at the top of the elevator, a little embarrassed that some security guard was probably watching her walk of shame.

  The headlines for this would practically write themselves. Philanthropist’s daughter caught leaving hotel room of known cult members and possible serial kidnappers. Socialite’s bridesmaid cousin caught leaving secret lover’s hotel suite—without pants!

  “I wonder which story Missy would hate more,” Carrie muttered to herself, willing the elevator to reach the first floor faster.

  Carrie giggled like a child and she felt slightly woozy when the elevator finally started dropping toward the ground floor. She’d just had sex with a total stranger. And a devilishly handsome one at that. Why did he have to be crazy? Aliens? Homeworlds? Please let it be a bad joke, one she didn’t get but that he’d explain later.

  Visions of them as a couple in different settings and family occasions rushed at her like gravity on a cannon ball until the elevator jerked to an abrupt stop. A loud ding signified the end of her ride and took away any fantasy of normality she might have indulged.

  The doors parted, revealing two of the women she had noticed earlier in the day. They were part of the blessed ones who walked around with their noses in the air, good-looking and perfect and probably dating ordinary, predictable men. Behind them was the sprawling land of bizarre noises and bright colors, a cocktail of man’s mortality. Carrie stumbled into the chaos, knowing she’d have to cross it before finding the private comfort of her hotel room.

  Chapter Eight

  “What do you mean you don’t know where she is?” Greg demanded. “What is the point of having bodyguards if anyone can just wander off whenever they want to?”

  “The bodyguards are for me,” Missy countered. “It’s not like anyone is trying to take Carrie.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Carrie mumbled to herself before clearing her throat to get their attention.

  “See,” Missy gestured at Carrie as if that proved her point that no one could ever possibly want to kidnap her cousin.

  “Carrie,” Greg made a show of looking behind her. “Where is your friend?”

  “Not here,” Carrie said, not feeling the need to explain herself to Greg. Besides, what could she say?

  I slept with a stranger who later wanted to take me to his home planet, which I think is code for an underground desert cult. So that pretty much sums up my lack of judgment. I ran out while he was distracted by his cousin because I’m a coward and then had to make the walk of shame back to my hotel room in order to join you all for breakfast. Hope it’s not in the tabloids tomorrow.

  “It’s couples night,” Missy said. “I need to know if you are bringing your gentleman friend. It would have been nice if you gave me a plus one before now, but it’s whatever. As long as you know that he can’t be in any of the group photos. I don’t want you trying to rearrange my wedding album in a month because you broke it off with beefcake.”

  “Good morning, Missy, you’re looking lovely today.” Carrie took a seat and motioned for the waitress to bring her coffee.

  “I should be mad at you,” Missy snapped. “You bailed on my wedding.”

  “It wasn’t your wedding,” Carrie corrected, not in the mood for more of Missy’s tiresomeness.

  “Just as important.”

  “I promise I will be there for your actual wedding.” Carrie tried to engage the attention of the other bridesmaids, but they were busy debating flower arrangements. Feeling someone sit beside her, she automatically turned to Greg.

  The man sat sideways in his chair, giving her his full attention. “We missed you last night.”

  “Something unexpected came up.” It wasn’t a lie. Hell, he knew what came up. He was there when she walked off with Kal.

  “Are you coming tonight? I thought it would be fun to get to know each other before we have to take the big walk.” There was something off about his smile, something that made her want to move her chair away from him. His fingers twitched as he tapped them on the tabletop.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be with the groomsmen?” Carrie inquired. The waitress showed with the coffee pot and filled up her cup.

  “Yes, Greg, go,” Missy said. “This is a girls’ breakfast. See, Carrie doesn’t need you to be all knight in shining armor for her. No need to worry about her anymore.”

  Greg frowned, then nodded as he stood. Carrie watched him leave.

  “That boy’s got it bad for you,” Missy teased. The other women giggled at the confession. “All day yesterday he kept going on and on about you. Where did Carrie go? When will Carrie be back? Does she know that man? Who is he? Why is he here? Carrie, Carrie, Carrie.”

  Carrie tried to block out her cousin’s voice, hoping some shiny object would come by and distract her. She stared at her coffee.

  “Carrie.”

  Carrie froze at the sound of Kal’s voice. Missy and the bridesmaids giggled louder.

  “He is so fine,” Mitzie or Trixie or whichever one of them said. “So fine.”

  “Why did you leave my bed so quickly? I thought you were going to join me in the shower. Did I not satisfy you last night?” Kal came to stand beside her chair. His hair was a little wild around his face, and he looked as if he’d dressed in a hurry.

  The bridesmaids laughed harder.

  “Spark, please, this is not the time.” Carrie stood, ready to usher him away.

  “But I love you,” Kal insisted, obviously not carrying that he put on a show for those gathered. “Can’t you feel it? That pull between us, like the gravitation of two stars being drawn together.”

  The strange thing was she could feel it.

  “Carrie, no,” Missy stated as if she forbid such a match.

  Carrie gave her cousin a hard look and pulled Kal away from the table. When they were out of earshot, she said, “Spark, you can’t be here right now.”

  “Why? This is where you are. This is where I want to be.” He tried to hold her.

  “I’m busy today,” she said. “And you have to find Vin. Sev needs you.”

  “Sev has located Vin. He will hail our ship and our guides will take care of it.”

  “I can’t do this now.” Carrie tried to push his hands from her arms. There was still a large part of her that wanted to lean forward and fall back into his kisses.

  “But you do not enjoy the company of those people,” he countered. “Come with me.”

  “Spark—”

  “You know the truth now. Call me Kal.”

  “Kal—”

  “I don’t understand. I thought we…” He glanced around helplessly. “I thought you liked me.”

  “I do, but…”

  “But?”

  “You…”

  “Yes? What?”

  “You think you’re from another planet,” she blurted. “That’s not…normal.”

  “It is normal for me because I was born on Bravon,” he said. “And I thought you understood. You said you knew about us.”

  “Aliens aren’t real. Area 51 is a hoax. There are no lizard people living in New Mexico,” she stated. “I’m sorry to be blunt about it, but they’re just some science fiction fantasy made up by people who took too much peyote i
n the desert. Unidentified flying objects were military planes.”

  “You think I am lying to you?” His expression fell.

  “I think you believe what you say, but I think maybe you need help.” She wanted to touch him, to beg him to stop this nonsense. “Does schizophrenia run in your family? Do you hear voices?”

  “Yes, I hear your voice right now,” he stated, frowning. “You’re talking.”

  “That’s not the voice I meant. Can you hear voices of people you don’t see?”

  Kal scanned the casino floor. “I hear a man saying that he just needs one, just one, just one, over and over. Another man in fuzzy purple is putting money on black.” Kal narrowed his gaze as he watched the bouncing ball at the roulette wheel. “He will not win. It will be red.”

  “You can’t know that,” Carrie denied. “They’re too far away to hear.”

  “The woman with a yellow headdress just asked the dealer to hit her.” He pointed several yards away. As if proving he could hear what was going on at the impossible distance, the dealer gave the woman in a yellow visor a card.

  “Red!” came the call from the roulette wheel. “Three!”

  “How…?” Carrie eyed Kal.

  “Simple. Come.” He walked toward the roulette table. As the wheel spun, he watched it for a few seconds before saying, “Black.” After several moments had passed, it landed on black.

  “Luck,” Carrie stated. “You had a fifty-fifty chance of guessing right.”

  He glanced at it again as it spun. “Red.”

  It landed just as he predicted.

  “That’s not possible. How…?”

  He took her arm and let her toward the woman in yellow. When she would speak, he held up his finger to watch a few hands of blackjack. Then, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a wadded up fifty dollar bill. He placed it on the table.

  “Changing fifty,” the dealer called, handing him a chip.

  Kal waited for his cards and then tapped the table as the woman in yellow had done.

  “Twenty-one!” the dealer called.

  Kal accepted his winnings and played again. Without much thought, he motioned that he wanted to stay.

  “Winner!” the dealer announced as Kal won again. He left his winnings on the table and turned toward her.

  “How are you doing this?”

  “Sir?” the dealer called.

  Kal ignored the man. He gathered his chips and pushed them toward the woman with the yellow visor.

  “You can’t do that, sir,” the dealer said, even as the woman in yellow snatched up Kal’s winnings.

  “Then you keep them,” he stated.

  As he walked away from the table with Carrie, a small disagreement between the dealer and the player ensued.

  “These games are easy. Children from my world could play them. How hard is it to count to twenty-one? All you have to do is look at the other side of the cards. And it is easy to calculate the projection of the tiny weighted ball based on the velocity of the table, which is determined by force. All of this is a simple equation.”

  “You can see through the cards?”

  “Of course,” he nodded. “Can’t you?”

  She shook her head in denial.

  “That would explain much. I can see how that game would be much harder then.” He nodded thoughtfully. “So do you believe me?”

  “I believe that you can,” she paused to mouth silently, “count cards,” before raising her voice once more, “but not that you’re an alien.”

  “How can I prove it to you?” Kal asked.

  “I don’t know. Take off your skin suit,” she quipped.

  He arched a brow as if he’d practiced the gesture. “If I understand that suggestion, that would be most unpleasant, and would most likely kill me.”

  “If you’re an alien, you have to be in disguise,” she reasoned. “All the pictures of supposed aliens coming to Earth show them with big heads, glassy black eyes, skinny bodies, and they’re all shorter than I am.” She made a point of looking up at his height.

  “Reticulans? The missionaries?” he asked. “I’m not that kind of alien. I’m humanoid.”

  A tiny shiver went down her body. That fact she remembered all too well. The intense heat of him radiated over her, and she had to take a step back.

  “They stopped on Bravon to try to catalog and cure us,” he continued, “but in the end, we had little use for their medical procedures.”

  “Kal, I like you, but I wish you’d stop saying crazy things,” she said. Before he could say more, she shook her head. “I’m sorry. I can’t have this conversation right now. I have to get back. It’s girls’ day for the wedding party.”

  “Carrie, please,” he pleaded.

  “I’m sorry, Kal.” She lifted her hand to stop him from following her and hurried back toward the restaurant.

  As she turned a corner, her foot twisted, and she fell forward. A man caught her against his chest and pulled her back to her feet.

  “Oh, sorry, thank you,” she answered automatically. When she tried to pull away, he held her tighter. She sensed it wasn’t Kal, but couldn’t comprehend why anyone else would feel they had the right to grab her like that. “What…?” A sharp jab hit her side, and she gasped in shock at the pain. A hand covered her mouth. She felt like she was screaming, pushing her voice as loud as it could go, but the sound came out like a whisper, “Let me…go.”

  Her vision blurred, and she felt herself being dragged backward into darkness.

  Chapter Nine

  “You!”

  Missy’s shrill voice was exactly what Kal wanted to hear as he walked into the private room off the lounge. Missy’s picture outside the door gave away the wedding party’s location. Since Vin and a few other grooms had gotten in trouble with local authorities, Galaxy Alien Mail Order Brides was insistent they leave the vicinity early. Time was running out, and he needed to find Carrie.

  Kal didn’t understand why she had been upset with him. Carrie had wanted him. She’d gone to his room with him. She kissed him. They made love. Everything was perfect. The idea of leaving without her didn’t settle well with him. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye to her. The smell of her lingered in his mind, and the memory of his touch tingled his skin. No woman had ever given him such a reaction.

  “What did I ever do to you? Why do you keep showing up and trying to ruin my wedding?” Missy continued, her small shoes clicking loudly on the floor as she marched toward him. She slapped his chest and began spouting a long list of high-pitched noises he couldn’t translate. “Wha-I-wan-wed-and-you-ruin-ever-ring-thing-an—”

  “I do not speak that dialect,” Kal stated, frowning at her as he sidestepped another weak attack. “Where is she? I must see her.”

  Missy stumbled by her own accord when her slap didn’t meet his chest. Greg and Chucky both stood to come to her defense as if Kal was assaulting her. Chucky pushed Missy behind his back and lifted his arms to his sides as if that would make him appear more threatening. Missy again tripped, and he had to wonder what logic would entice her to keep her heels four inches off the ground with pegs. Greg puffed up his chest. Several of the other groomsmen gathered around the man to offer support, as the women went to collect the incoherent, staggering Missy.

  “Where is Carrie?” Kal stated, slower than before. “I need to see her.”

  “We should be asking you the same thing.” Greg glanced back to make sure his friends were behind him before lurching forward to push Kal.

  Kal arched a brow, barely teetering at the man’s show of aggression. “I do not have her. I am looking for her.”

  Was his language uploads somehow deteriorating? That wasn’t supposed to happen, but these people were making no sense as if they couldn’t understand a simple question.

  “The last anyone saw her, she was walking away with you,” Greg said.

  “Are you telling me she’s not with you?” Missy demanded.

  “I haven’t seen her fo
r a day,” Kal answered. “She left me in the casino to come back to you.”

  “I can’t believe her! I knew I should never have put her in the wedding, but mother insisted it was good for publicity. And now look.” She eyed the six bridesmaids and wedding planner who stood in various positions around a table filled with envelopes and notepads.

  Kal looked but did not get the significance.

  “She left me in a complete bind. We were supposed to go through all the of the mailed cards today,” Missy paused to lift up a stack of envelopes, “and write out thank you notes, so I don’t have to worry about it on my honeymoon. How am I possibly expected to get all of these answered by myself? She just doesn’t care because she doesn’t understand what it’s like to be in my position in society. What am I supposed to do? Ask the men to help?” She scoffed at the absurdity of her statement.

  “I don’t know what any of that means, but I count six bridesmaid women with you,” Kal stated with a glance to the envelopes and tried to be reasonable, “and only forty-three cards, so roughly seven cards per person? That does not sound like much.”

  Missy gasped as if he’d just insulted her entire family line. The color faded from her cheeks as she began to shake. “Chucky?”

  The groom was instantly by her side, holding her. “Ah, now, don’t listen to him. What does he know about it, baby? You said it yourself. You have twice as many cards as Sharon did for her wedding.”

  Missy nodded.

  “Now, I know you have a lot to think about, so let me handle this Neanderthal,” Chucky said.

  Missy nodded again.

  Greg motioned to the ladies. “Could you please start going through them for her?”

  They scattered to go to the table, giving a chorus of responses.

  “Oh, yes.”

  “Of course.”

  “Don’t you worry, Missy, we’ll take care of it.”

  “Tell me where I can find Carrie,” Kal insisted. He wanted away from these people.

  “Thank you, Greg,” Missy said. “I know I don’t know you very well, and you volunteered to be a groomsman last minute to help out a frat brother and give my cousin a partner, but you are turning out to be a godsend. Truly. I don’t know what we would have done without your help.”

 

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