“Yes. She is with Lorran.”
To make their time off the Judgment a true family vacation, they brought Rosemary and Michael to Sangrin. They’d only been on the planet for a day and already they were part of the extended family.
Finding Rosemary had been simple. She didn’t use any of the money Hazel gave her to get fake IDs, move or disappear into an anonymous new life. She and Michael stayed exactly in the place and Scott did exactly what Hazel feared. He harassed Rosemary daily about Hazel’s location and made their lives torture. So far the plan was for Rosemary and Michael to remain on Sangrin for the time being. Seeran’s parents always needed extra help and Terrans had a few extra taste buds over Sangrins. They were fascinated at the extra notes Rosemary could detect in the wine and wanted to put her to novel use in the tasting room.
“He’s not showing her off, is he?” hazel asked. Lorran and Mene’s behavior seemed... odd. Not that Hazel was an expert on how the brother’s normally acted but Lorran was oddly quiet and Mene practically flexed his muscles every time Rosemary walked by in some display of alien flirting.
“Two females in one family is a luxury. He can not help himself.”
“Well, she’s not his female so he needs to keep his hands to himself.”
Seeran remained silent.
Hazel twisted on the bench to get a look at him. His lips were lifted at the corner into a knowing smirk. “You’re joking. Tell me you’re joking.”
“Compatibility often runs in families. You are very compatible with me.” His hand drifted down to touch to her stomach briefly before returning to her shoulder. “It follows that your sister would be compatible with one of my brothers.”
“But she has a kid. Michael. Remember him?”
“He is impossible to ignore,” Seeran said with a weary sigh. Michael deemed it his right to climb his Mahdfel uncles like trees and demand piggyback rides. The three brothers gave confused look while Hazel explained that a piggyback ride involved no actual pigs.
“Having a kid means you’re exempt from being tested.”
“On Earth. We are on Sangrin. That provision was meant to exclude milking mothers. You Terrans chose to interpret it to exclude all mothers with children, no matter their age.”
“Would they want her with Michael?” Hazel just couldn’t wrap her head around the idea. Rosemary purposefully had Michael to avoid the draft, just as she got married for the same reason, and now Seeran was telling her it wasn’t that big of a deal. “They won’t force her to be tested here, will they?”
“Yes, they would want her. No, they would not force her. Mene will approach her as a mate but claim he is only thinking of the clan-less child.” Mene had seemed rather taken with Michael and concerned that he lacked a father and a proper clan.
“I’m sure that’ll win her over.” Hazel couldn’t imagine her sister’s reaction to Hey, baby. You’re attractive enough and all but that kid of yours needs a dad so I guess I can tolerate you enough to marry you.
Super romantic.
“My elder brother is not good with words the way I am,” Seeran said. “But he feels deeply for her.”
“Rosie might not be interested.” Rosemary had some nasty preconceptions about the Mahdfel. Meeting Seeran and his family helped convince her that the aliens weren’t barbarians abducting women but moving from “not the bad guys” to “let’s get married” was significant.
“She is free to discourage their attentions,” Seeran said, knowing full well that Rosemary had been flirting right back with Lorran and Mene.
“She’s been here a day.”
“I knew instantly with you.”
“Well, that was different.” Hazel couldn’t say how, but it was.
“And you did marry me only hours after meeting, which is quite the scandal.” Seeran loved to harp on that. Hazel had no idea that sharing a drink, normally tea, and having a conversation was the traditional Sangrin wedding.
“Because I love you,” Hazel said, “I won’t be petty and remind you that you were the thirsty one who agreed. You knew what you were doing.”
His arms tightened. “Yes,” he said, pleased. “I was yours from the instant you smiled. My heart and my devotion went without question.”
She reached for his hand and gently traced the line along his palm where his color shifted from deep wine to pale lavender. Their fingers interlaced, the deep wine of his in harmony with the pale beige of hers. “And love?” she asked.
“Everything I am is yours.”
“My true husband.”
“My only mate.”
Epilogue
Fifteen Years Ago
Penny
IT WAS THE BEST OF times; it was the worst of times. Correction, the times sucked. It was hard for Penny to imagine anything worse, what with the real-life alien invasion and all.
The Suhlik came and life just stopped. Not literally. Well, literally for the unlucky. Or maybe they were the lucky ones, not scrambling every day trying to find food, water and shelter. The point was Penny found it hard to think beyond the now, beyond her body’s immediate need for food, water and shelter. The future? Didn’t matter if she froze to death over the winter, and freezing was a very real possibility.
Penny shifted into position on her belly, using an old pair of binoculars she’d bought for the opera—a lifetime ago—to scout out the river. The university campus was on the other side of the river, along with the community shelters and medical supplies, food, heat and every creature comfort she lacked on her side of the river. Except the opera. The university students probably were not performing Madame Butterfly between bombings. The Mikado, sure, college kids were wacky like that...
She could have been warm and snuggly right now if she lived on campus but her aunt lived on the north side of town—on the wrong side of the river—and steadfastly refused any attempt Penny made at paying rent. Had refused. Penny hadn’t seen her aunt since the invasion started. Her aunt had gone to work that day in the city and just never came home.
She could be alive, Penny told herself. The day the bombs started, people were told to shelter in place. Her aunt might still be at the office, worrying about Penny.
Each day was the same: find food, find clean water, and hide. She had shelter all sorted out. Her aunt’s house had taken an indirect hit. The roof caved in and the good chunk of the back of the house was just gone, but the floor was sound and there was nothing wrong with the basement. It was dry and warm enough, considering. The bombed out appearance kept away looters and other undesirables, like those lizard-looking alien assholes.
Penny raised the glasses and made herself focus on the bridge. There was one bridge across the river and the aliens kept it heavily patrolled. Currently there was a big red alien marching down the length, like he was looking for something. Someone.
A curious shiver went down her spin. Just the wind. She pulled the hood over her head.
Penny could go around but with farmland to the west and to east, it would be a long, hard walk in the cold to get to the nearest bridge in the town twelve miles over. If it still stood. The interstate once crossed the river but that was long gone. If she could find a boat, she could cross in the night but the folks who lived on the north side of town weren’t the kind to keep boats. She could always swim. The Kaw’s flow wasn’t as low as during the summer but she could cross at a narrow point. If she moved fast, hypothermia might not kill her. Or she could just wait for the river to ice over and walk. No good options, basically. The smart thing to do was hunker down and wait.
Her gaze drifted down to the hydroelectric dam. The small structure under the Sixth Street bridge was a relic from the last century but it was the only thing generating power. The city grid hadn’t been operational in a while but Penny could sneak into the powerhouse at the foot of the bridge and recharge the portable power packs she scavenged.
It sounded far riskier than it was. The Suhlik had their own power source. Penny had no idea what—malevolence,
probably—but they didn’t seem to know about or be too concerned with the little hydro dam, which meant an opportunity for her to recharge power packs and a few more days of running her space heater and hot plate.
The sky hung heavy, leaden and promising snow. It was cold enough for snow too, which was better than ice, in her opinion. Of course, with snow, she’d have to worry about leaving tracks but with ice she could fall and seriously hurt herself. With the only medical care on the other side of the river, Penny couldn’t afford to twist, sprain or break anything. Hell, she couldn’t even afford the sniffles. She had a stockpile of aspirins, antibiotics, bandages and such she pilfered from a local pharmacy. She might be able to treat a fever or an infection, the reports on the radio spoke about “spore viruses” and gas attacks. If she ever encountered anything like that, she was toast.
Mmm, toast. Her stomach rumbled with a craving for warm buttery toast and strawberry jam. Her scavenging took her into grocery stores and any place that might have canned goods. The invasion happened so fast there wasn’t time for regular folk to panic and clean out the shops, which was good for her. Some items spoiled immediately when the power went out, like all the frozen stuff and meat. Produce lasted a while. Potatoes, onions and apples were still good if they were in a cool, dark place. She hadn’t seen non-moldy or mouse chewed bread in weeks.
Penny shook herself out of her funk. Now wasn’t the time to get all teary-eyed about bread. There would be bread again. Wheat would always grow, alien invasion or not, and people would make bread.
She checked the sky again. No sun, just ominous clouds. It was going to snow, a lot, and soon. She’d rather do this in bright daylight. For all their weapon superiority, the Suhlik didn’t see well in bright sunlight, Penny noticed, and they didn’t see into shadows too well. They had these weird lizard eyes with two lids. The inner lid was lowered on bright days, giving their eyes a flat, empty stare—not that their fully unveiled black eyes were comforting or anything, just less flat and empty.
Her attention drifted back to the bridge. The muscle-bound red alien was still there. God, he was ugly, like a Tolkien ogre crossed with a devil. He wasn’t a Suhlik, Penny knew that much. He was the other kind—the kind the reports on the radio claimed where Earth’s allies and would fight the Suhlik.
For a price.
The reports on the exact details of the Earth-Mad Fell treaty were sketchy, which told Penny it had to be bad. If it was like trade, chocolate and coffee for weapons, that’d be front page news. You know, if there were newspapers. The fact that it was secret meant it was bad. In the movies, aliens always wanted Earth’s “resources”, like there was anything on Earth that couldn’t be mined on an empty asteroid, far away from bothersome humans.
No, anything an alien wanted from Earth they could get easier in space. The only unique thing that Earth had was people. Lots of people. If someone told her the Suhlik ate babies and skinned humans to make fancy shoes and matching handbags, she’d believe it. Those lizards were sinister. But if someone said they were gathering up humans to make slaves, she’d call shenanigans. The Suhlik killed indiscriminately. If they were farming humans to sell off as slaves, they wouldn’t kill half their product. No, they just liked terror and the mayhem of random destruction. They killed for the fucking joy of it.
Monsters.
And the new ones? The so called “good guys?” She wasn’t about to trust them because they didn’t immediately tear out the president’s heart on national television. Not murdering a world leader did not make you a good guy.
The radio programs couldn’t get enough of the Mad Fell aliens. Mad Fell. What kind of name was that? The solar powered radio filled the silence and listening to the emergency broadcasts was better than listening to the wind and the autumn rain. She missed the music programs and the light hearted chit chat, but she’d keep listening to the emergency program because any human voice was better than nothing.
She refocused the binoculars, studying the red alien.
Did they all look like the one on the bridge? He was a big SOB, that was for sure, and built like a linebacker. Probably had more muscle than sense. And his skin...
Her mother always preached about judging someone on the basis of their character and actions, not the color of their skin, but he was red. Red.
The alien turned and movement at his knees caught her eyes. The binoculars shifted down, focusing on a slender red tail with a spiky barb at the end. A freaking tail. All he needed was a pair of horns and he’d be a classic demon.
Yeah, she wasn’t going to trust a demon, no matter what the radio said.
The cold seeped through her jeans and tights. Her nose was numb and her fingers were losing sensation. It was time to move, red alien on the bridge or no red alien. The radio said a blizzard was coming. She needed to get the portable power pack charged or she’d be snowed in with no heat for days. Not an option.
“Now or never, Novak,” she whispered to herself, failing to inspire.
Thank you for reading!
The Starr Huntress ladies are planning a special event in November. Be on the lookout for the multi-part “Snowed in with the Aliens.”
Agent Novak’s story will continue (or flashback) in Snowed in with the Alien Warlord. After that, there will be more Sangrin Mahdfel but I need a breather to work on another project. I thought about including a teaser for Rohn but decided that was too cruel, because Warriors of Sangrin #7 won’t be out until 2018. Is telling you that less cruel? Probably not.
Typos are sneaky beasts and they slip past both my editor and proofreader. If you found one or a formatting error, please me an email at [email protected] and I’ll get right on it.
Also Available
WARRIORS OF SANGRIN (With Starr Huntress)
Paax
Kalen
Mylomon
Vox
Warlord’s Baby
Delivered to the Aliens
Dragons of Wye (with Juno Wells)
Korven’s Fire
Ragnar
Alpha Aliens of Fremm
Claimed by the Alien Prince
Bride of the Alien Prince
Alien Warrior’s Mate
Alien Rogue’s Price
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Athen
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Cyborg
Krayter
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PHOEBE FAWKES
Oz
Haze
Sonia Nova
Mate to the Beast
Alien Valentine
Ariana
Thanika Hearth
Wrax
Tyr
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Copyright Notice
&nbs
p; SEERAN: WARLORD BRIDES
Warriors of Sangrin 6
Copyright Nancey Cummings
Cover design by Nancey Cummings
Published September 2017
Published by Menura Press
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this book only. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printer or electronic form without prior written person from the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Author’s Note: This is a work of fiction and all people, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. All characters depicted in this work of fiction are eighteen years of age or older.
Seeran: Warlord Brides (Warriors of Sangrin Book 6) Page 17
