by Kit Tunstall
She slipped off his lap, and he helped her put on the body armor again. He was certain his mate would be happy to have her own clothes once she was back at her station.
She looked grim, as though facing execution rather than a meeting with her superiors, as she squared her shoulders. “I guess.”
He rubbed her back in a silent show of support. What else could he do? He would like to solve her problems, but he didn’t know exactly what was vexing her, and he was certain his mate wouldn’t appreciate him trying to solve her problems for her.
She would want his support, and possibly his counsel, but she wouldn’t want him to remove the problem from her hands without her input. If he’d had the luxury of doing that, he would have already been halfway back to his home world, where he would have taken Ellie as his bond-mate in a ceremony witnessed by his friends and family, where he publicly claimed her as his, and she asserted the same claim on him.
Instead, he took her hand and gave a gentle squeeze as she slipped by him, but then let his hands fall to his sides. She probably wanted to maintain a professional demeanor.
As they slipped from the ship, he was surprised, but deeply touched, when she took his hand and folded it in hers. It was such a simple gesture, but spoke so much about their future, which was as intertwined as their fingers.
***
Ellie led Zyan straight to the Command Center, ignoring the looks directed toward Zyan as they moved through the corridors of the station. None of the humans around her had ever seen an alien before, so they were bound to be excited and curious.
She inputted her security code at the door, and it opened to allow them access to the control room. When they stepped inside, the noise level went from the soft chatter of voices to absolute silence. She looked at Dahlia, who was the first human to recover.
She grinned at Ellie. “I can’t wait to hear this story.”
Ellie grinned at her friend before she turned to the commander. “I’d like to speak with you for a few moments please, Commander Thorson.”
He was an older man, and his color had taken on a slightly unhealthy pallor at the sight of an alien in his control room. It took him a moment to recover, and when he did, it was with a blustery cough. “You can’t just burst in here, Dr. Wright.”
She rolled her eyes and barely reined in her impatience. “It’s important, sir. I think the fact that I’m accompanied by an alien might tell you that.”
His gaze darted to Zyan for a minute, and he visibly swallowed, clearly frightened. His reaction irritated her, and it wasn’t solely on Zyan’s behalf. He had done nothing to provoke fear in any of them, but she understood that as a knee-jerk reaction. She just found Thorson himself irritating.
With obvious reluctance, he moved from his seat and gestured for her to precede him into a small room set aside for his personal office space. When Zyan went with her, bending down to avoid whacking his head on the too-low door frame, Thorson looked like he wanted to protest, but one scowl from her mate was all it took to keep him quiet.
She bit back a grin as she took a seat across the desk. There was only the one seat besides the commander’s, so Zyan stood behind her. His hands on her shoulders were a welcome presence, and it had the added bonus of being inadvertently intimidating to the commander.
“Where were you?” asked Thorson.
“It’s a long story, but it boils down to I made first contact. I’m sure there’ll be reports to write, and I’ll give you a full debriefing of events.” A carefully edited debriefing, because despite teasing Zyan about sharing their experience, there was no way she was telling anyone about their lovemaking, at least not in any official capacity. She wouldn’t mind sharing some of the details with Dahlia though.
“You’ve violated several rules and regulations with this stunt, Dr. Wright. Also, where is your shuttle?”
Ellie shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’d guess it was destroyed along with the slavers’ space station. It’s where Aladrina probably got rid of it.”
He looked mystified. “Slavers? Aladrina? Are you deliberately trying to scuttle your position? Be truthful and succinct.”
Zyan growled, but she put a hand on his shoulder to rein him in. She didn’t need him to speak for her or protect her. “I am being truthful, but succinct would be a different thing entirely. I don’t think I could summarize for you the events of the last twenty-four hours in just a few sentences. You’ll have to wait for my report.”
“I’m your superior. I order you to tell me what’s happening and account for the missing multibillion-dollar piece of equipment you accepted responsibility for when you took it from the Hub.”
Ellie frowned at him, and suddenly everything crystallized. She loved what she did, but she hated working for GeoCorp. They cut so many corners, and it was all about paperwork and bureaucracy. Even now, the commander hadn’t inquired on her state of health, and he barely seemed interested in the first contact she’d made with an alien. He was more concerned with reacquiring his shuttle, and with busting her for all the rules she had violated—never mind she hadn’t violated them willingly.
She sat forward slightly, stiffening her spine. “What’s going on is simple, Commander Thorson. I’m turning in my resignation. I’m certain I can work out a freelance position with Earth’s government while I travel with my mate. I have no doubt I’ll learn more about alien geology and interstellar cartography traveling with Zyan than I would remain tied here to the Hub.” As his mouth gaped open, she took pleasure in adding, “I don’t believe I’ll bother with the debriefing report either. I’m leaving without notice.”
“You can’t do this. You have to fill out these forms. Do you know much trouble I’ll be in if I don’t have an explanation on file, and if I have to account for a missing shuttle?”
Ellie grinned at him, feeling completely certain of her decision. “You can take that out of my final pay. As cheaply as those things are built, I imagine it will be just enough to cover the replacement costs.” Ignoring his sputtering, she got to her feet and walked out with Zyan, his hand clasped in hers. As they left the commander’s office, she looked up when he bent down to bring his mouth close to her ear.
“Are you certain this is what you want, my mate? We can stay here if you choose.”
She shook her head. “That isn’t what I want it all. I want to do what I’m trained for, and I want to explore, but I want to do it without being hampered by all the rules and regulations GeoCorp puts in place. This is exactly what I want, and it’s the perfect solution.”
“If you’re happy, then it pleases me.”
Ignoring their audience, she put her hand around his neck, urging his mouth closer to hers. She kissed him slowly and thoroughly before pulling away. “Then you should be ecstatic, because I am. I have everything I want or need with you, Zyan.”
“I swear I’ll make you happy.”
“You already do.” She kissed him again, certain of the path she was taking, though it was divergent from what she had expected. She had no regrets as she took his hand, and they left the Hub’s Command Center, planning to pick up her belongings before she departed from the place forever. Her thoughts were too full of the exciting possibilities of her future with Zyan to have any room for qualms.
Epilogue
Freydon Rote looked up when his colleague cleared her throat. “Yes, Eparsa?”
The Gentarren tilted her head to the side, wrapping her tail absently around her middle. “It’s getting late. Do you plan to work all evening?”
He shook his head. “No. I’m simply updating some files for my annual report.”
Without invitation, the younger agent—who had recently found her way to the Celestial Mates Agency after meeting another agent who had been her fated mate—entered his office. “What are you working on? I haven’t gotten any active cases of my own yet. I’m still in training, and Shaloaz won’t tell me any details about his cases.”
“Your mate is wise to avoid bringing home
work.” He smiled to lessen the sting.
She waved a purple hand. “C’mon. I love hearing these true love stories. They’re so romantic. I can’t wait to start matching mates myself. You must have some really fabulous success stories. Shaloaz told me you’ve been an agent for a thousand years.”
Freydon nodded his head, and his mouth crease turned upward. “I have some favorite pairings, for certain. The case I’m updating is a pairing I assisted with last year, and I need to make notations of where they are now.” He tapped the view screen, calling up an image of the golden alien and his human mate. The system would have alerted him if they had been in an intimate or awkward moment, thus preserving their privacy and his dignity.
They sat together on the bridge of the ship they shared. The human female lay across her mate’s lap, and he had a hand resting on her rounded belly. “Offspring are a good sign of a successful pairing,” he said to Eparsa. “They’ll be together for as long as they live, and Zyan will have four children with his cherished Ellie.”
Her eyes widened. “How do you know that?”
“We exist outside of time and space,” he reminded her gently. “We can look into the future, or the past. That’s how we determine what obstacles might be insurmountable. You’ll learn all this during training.”
She sighed. “There’s so much to remember.”
Freydon nodded. “There is, but it’s the most rewarding position ever. Not everyone views it as I do, and some agents consider it a job instead of a noble profession, but I am honored to be part of every pairing I facilitate. It pleases me to bring love and joy to the galaxies, to help those who would normally exist so far apart that they would never find each other and end up alone. With each pairing you facilitate, you’re making the universe a little happier. Remember that when you get frustrated, Eparsa.”
She let out a dreamy sigh. “Wow, Freydon. That’s amazing. So beautiful.”
They looked up at a sound outside the cubicle, where Shaloaz waited for his mate. Freydon waved them off and watched them go with an indulgent smile before glancing once more at Zyan and Ellie. He wouldn’t have cause to peek on them again unless his memory of their unfolding future grew hazy, and he had to update a report. He would miss them, as he did all the mates he’d helped pair up, but that was part of the job. He only observed and acted when needed. Zyan and Ellie no longer needed his intercession, because they had perfected being mates, and they would make their own way.
That was how it should be, and he was satisfied as he moved on to the next case on his docket, deciding he would do a few more updates before leaving his office. The work of a Celestial Mates agent was never done, and that satisfied him too.
******
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Keep reading for an excerpt of Jory’s story, “Princess By Mistake.” It takes place in the same universe, but two centuries before Ellie’s story.
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Blurb
What started out as the worst day ever just got worse. Incorrectly identified as her strange roommate, curvy Jory finds herself spirited away by an intergalactic bounty hunter intent on returning her to the prince she’s expected to marry. Except she’s no princess, and forget a prince when she could have the sexy, magenta-skinned alien instead—if he’ll accept she’s a mistaken princess and give in to the desire simmering between them.
Chapter One
Despite the early hour, not quite even eleven a.m., Jory Wilson was ready to declare this day officially the worst one ever. It had started with an early meeting, necessitating leaving her comfy home office to commute into the city. Instead of her usual fleece sweatpants, she had donned pantyhose that required way too much effort, along with a neat pinstripe pencil skirt that always made her rounded butt look a little too bubbly for her tastes. En route to the meeting, she had stepped down from a curb and broken the heel off one of her new shoes, while also twisting her ankle, though not to the point where she couldn’t walk on it.
She had taken the train, fighting her way through the crowd to find a spot, not lucky enough to secure a seat. She had clung to the strap as usual and endured the close crush of people around her. As she’d neared her stop for the office, some bozo had squeezed her butt, pinching hard enough for her to squeal.
In a huff, she had stormed off the subway, glaring at the other passengers as she tried to identify the ass-grabber. The mystery remained unsolved, and she had rushed up the stairs of the platform to street-level, crossing the last two blocks on her broken heel with an awkward gait.
Upon arriving at the office, Jory had discovered she was called to the meeting under false pretenses. Ostensibly, it had been to discuss her future with the company, and she had expected the raise and promotion she’d been promised more than a year ago. Instead, she had learned her job was being outsourced to India, and she was expected to train her replacement via telecommuting at a reduced rate of pay.
Jory had stared at them in surprise and more than a little anger. They didn’t seem to understand why she was upset about training her replacement and losing her promised promotion. Unable to control her temper, which was often a failing of hers, she had let loose on her boss, his boss, and their boss. It had been an ugly meeting and left her no doubt she wouldn’t receive a good reference from the company when she began job hunting again.
Fortunately, Jory had a side gig editing and writing for an independent magazine, and she had been saving her money for a while, so there was no rush to find a new job as a corporate drone. That was little consolation for having lost the promotion for which she had slaved for the past year.
By the time she arrived home—hot, frazzled, and in no mood for more irritations— finding the door partially open was the last straw. It wasn’t the first time her strange roommate, Chiara, had left the door unlocked, but it was the first time she had left the apartment in such disarray. It looked like a tornado had blown through, and Jory stared in shock. Housekeeping was not her favorite thing, and the idea of having to pick up all the mess irritated her.
She strode through the clutter, too focused on delivering a piece of her mind directly to Chiara to worry about taking off her broken shoe. She wished she had the luxury of evicting the other woman. With the recent status change to unemployed, and the fact Chiara always paid her rent on time—strangely enough, the first time she had tried to pay rent with a handful of diamonds—Jory knew she was still stuck with the other woman. That didn’t mean she couldn’t lay down a few laws and make it plain what was and was not acceptable behavior.
For example, inviting strangers to sleep on the sofa was unacceptable. Jory stared at the large form currently sprawled across her small sofa. He was a behemoth of muscles even in a supine position. Long blond hair trailed across his shoulder and down his chest, and she found herself drawing nearer him to examine his features more closely. He had a strong brow, straight nose, and lips that were just a shade too full. The kind of lips that invited kissing.
Jory blinked at that random thought, abstractly amused that she found herself contemplating making out with the stranger who was asleep on her couch. More than likely, the man was just as strange as Chiara, and even more likely, he was with her roommate in a romantic sense. Not that the other woman had ever brought back boyfriends or dates to the apartment, but then again, Jory didn’t often do so either. Men tended to avoid her curvy frame, quick temper, and smart mouth. It was a dynamite combination prone to sudden explosion, as her mother liked to say in a teasing fashion.
As Jory bent over the form of the sleeping man, preparing to shake his shoulder to wake him, his eyes snapped open. She drew
in a halting breath at the beautiful purple irises, rimmed by darker purple rings. She’d never seen anything so stunning or strange in all her life. They had to be colored contacts, right?
Blinking aside her temporary mesmerism, she forced herself to sound brusque when she asked, “Who are you, and what are you doing in my apartment?”
The stranger sat up abruptly, forcing Jory to scramble backward and almost land on her butt. She caught herself at the last moment, teetering on the uneven heels, and glared up at him. Way, way up. The man towered over her by at least a foot-and-a-half, and she wasn’t exactly short at five-six. Jory stretched her neck backward in an effort to meet his gaze, and her eyes widened at the sight of a device flipping up above his eye. “What is that?” There had been nothing on his face a second ago.
He didn’t bother to answer, but a shutter on the apparatus spun open, revealing a small red dot that grew to a beam barely thicker than a pencil. Jory gasped with outrage as the light scanned her from head to toe. It didn’t hurt, but it was a violation of some sort, and just plain freaky—like Chiara and all the other oddities that had come with having the woman as her roommate for the last seven months. Job or no job, money or no money, Chiara was going to have to leave if she persisted in bringing home weirdoes like this guy.
Jory racked her brain, trying to remember if there was some kind of convention in the city that would draw the cosplayers and tech types like this guy. He had to be wearing some kind of strange costume, and she was more convinced than ever when the light around him sort of flickered, and a flash of magenta seemed to superimpose itself over his skin, giving him a red-pink tinge, before another flicker restored his normal appearance.
She shook her head. “What is going on here? Where’s Chiara?”
