Instead, I received a catalog of all the human women whose names had been drawn.
Oh, well, I thought. I might as well entertain myself while I wait for the real info I need.
Paging open the com file, I began flipping through the images of the various women.
Humans all looked the same. They were all some shade of beige or brown, and all so uniformly, terrifyingly tiny.
I had to wonder how our warriors kept from damaging their new spouses during the mating rituals.
The thought made my skin crawl.
No one that small should ever be taken as an ally.
And definitely not as a mate. I was about to close the file and go back to my brooding when something caught my eye.
Two human women—complete opposites, but equally beautiful. One with amazingly pale skin, so pale I could almost see the veins through it. And the other was equally as dark, her skin the shade of the black lava rocks of the Trashanta plains.
Then again, maybe this assignment wouldn’t be so bad, after all.
Chapter Three
Mia
“No. Really. I’m not supposed to be here.” My voice broke as I begged the Poltien who had greeted me to let me go back home. “You don’t understand.”
The Poltien’s hot-pink nose-braid shivered as its owner inhaled in an obvious attempt to remain calm.
“You are required to be here. You are certainly not the first bride who has begged to go home.”
“I’m not who you think I am.”
The Poltien turned a sharp gaze in my direction. “Defrauding the Lottery Commission is a serious offense,” it warned me.
Crap. I needed to get out of here, back home to Josiah. But I couldn’t get caught having switched out my tracking device. And I sure as hell couldn’t get caught pretending to be someone I wasn’t for the Bride Lottery.
There must be a way out of this.
“Do you have anything more to say?” the Poltien asked.
I shook my head meekly, changing tactics midstream.
It would be better if I didn’t say anything at all. The Khanavai were bright, flamboyant, violent warriors. I just needed to be the most closed-in version of myself I could come up with. That was my best bet for losing fast enough to get home, maybe in as soon as twenty-four or forty-eight hours.
Becca would have seen what happened, and I trusted her to keep Josiah. She’d be confused, since women with children weren’t supposed to end up participating in the Bride Games. But she knew I would never leave Josiah for long.
Play dumb, Mia Jones. It’s your best bet.
I grew up watching the Bride Games with my mother, before she passed away. We spent hours every year enthralled by beautiful women from all over the world as they moved through Station 21.
My favorite event was always the Bride Pageant.
I used to dream that I would someday get to be one of them. I imagined myself choosing the perfect red dress, twirling around on the stage and capturing the gaze—and adoration—of one of the Khanavai warriors.
And now that I was here, I felt none of that magic. Instead, my stomach clenched into a tight fist inside me.
I have to go home.
I had no idea how to manage it.
“My name is Thorvid,” the Poltien leading me out of the transporter room introduced itself.
All around us, other short Poltiens and a few tall, willowy, three-breasted Blordls led potential brides out of the transporters, taking them away to be dressed for the pageant as the Khanavai grooms gathered to watch the show.
If this had happened even six years earlier, I would have been giddy with excitement.
But not now.
Actually, I wouldn’t have ended up here even if this name and number had been drawn back then.
“I’m Mia Jones,” I replied shortly.
“Most brides have two assistants,” Thorvid explained as it led me through a series of hallways. “But my usual Blordl partner is back on her home planet, having a baby. So I’m afraid you’re stuck with just me.”
“That’s fine,” I said, only half my attention on the conversation. “I don’t really expect to be here very long.”
Thorvid shot a confused glance in my direction. “Why not?”
Shit. I shouldn’t have said that. I gave a little negating shake of my head. “I just don’t think any of the Khanavai warriors are going to be very interested in me.” I spoke like it was a certainty, even knowing I wasn’t safe from being chosen, as if just saying the words could perform some kind of magic to get me home sooner.
Thorvid stopped in the middle of the empty hallway and turned to gaze at me appraisingly. “Well, I wouldn’t say you’re the worst choice someone could make.”
In my former life, I might have been offended by the remark. This time, though, I simply laughed halfheartedly. “No,” I said, “I’m probably not the worst possibility.”
But not the best, either, I added to myself. Especially if the one choosing is worried about violent exes.
Thorvid showed me into my room in the bride’s quarters. On television, these rooms had always looked magical—light and airy, everything decorated in white with lots of lace.
In person, it looked almost a little tacky. “Very … bridal,” I observed, taking a seat at the mirrored table by the wall.
Thorvid snickered. “It’s starting to get a little outdated, I think. But what do I know? It’s not like fabric with lots of tiny holes in it comes from my world’s traditions.”
“What kinds of marriage traditions do the Poltien have?” I asked, suddenly curious to realize that I had never heard anything about how the genderless race reproduced.
Thorvid’s face flushed the same color as its nose-braid. “We need to go ahead and start getting you ready for the pageant,” it announced brusquely, opening a closet door and pulling out several swaths of fabric to hold up against my face.
Right. The pageant was the first level of choosing.
If I can make it through that without catching the eye of any Khanavai males, I can get back home to Josiah.
Of course, assuming he was watching, Frank would have figured out where I was living—in terms of the town, anyway. I would never be able to go back to the apartment Josiah and I had been living in.
But with any luck, he wouldn’t have figured out where Josiah was staying. No one at work knew where I lived, or even that I had a child—much less who kept that child when I was gone. I could get into town, grab Josiah, and get back out before Frank had time to track us down.
Right?
Even with all his resources, there was a chance I could still escape.
We could still escape.
And what if you can’t? a tiny voice in the back of my mind whispered.
No. I wouldn’t think like that. I had never given in and I wasn’t about to start now.
“… red?”
“I’m sorry?” I had completely lost track of what Thorvid was saying to me.
“For your formal dress for the pageant,” Thorvid said. “I think a dress in this shade of red. It looks beautiful next to your dark skin.”
Thorvid wasn’t wrong. The shade it had chosen from among the fabric swatches was my best color.
And it would also make me stand out. “No. I want to wear something more… traditional.”
The Poltien frowned. “Okay. How about something in a bright yellow?”
“No. I want a black evening gown.”
A pained expression fluttered across Thorvid’s face. “Are you sure? You’re beautiful.” It brushed my hair back from my face. “A little tired around the eyes, maybe. But a color like this could brighten up your whole expression. And a Khanavai warrior could change your life. I’ve seen it happen.”
If only I’d had that option six years ago.
But I hadn’t. And now, I didn’t have any choice but to try to get through this quickly and get back home. “I am absolutely certain.”
Those were my goa
ls: minimize my time in front of the cameras, don’t cause any scenes, don’t do anything to get me noticed.
With the exception of the cameras, I’d had the same goals for the last two years. Only this time, it was life or death.
Just get through this and get back home.
“Yes, I’m sure. Please,” I finally said. “A simple black evening gown. Nothing fancy. Nothing that will garner too much attention.”
With a sigh, Thorvid nodded and headed toward the door. “I’ll be back in a little while to help you get ready,” it said. As it reached the door, though, it paused and turned back.
“Whatever you’re so afraid of, you don’t have to be. You’re safe on Station 21. I promise.”
As the door shut behind the Poltien, a single tear shivered on my eyelashes and fell down to my cheek, tracing a path partway down before I dashed it away angrily with the back of my hand.
I might be safe, but Josiah wasn’t.
And if anything happened to him while I was gone, I didn’t think I would be able to survive it.
Chapter Four
Eldron
Skipping out on the grooms’ events probably wasn’t the best way to maintain my cover.
Still, it wouldn’t necessarily hurt me. After all, the Games Director knew why I was really here—and it wasn’t to find a bride, no matter how much I might secretly want to do exactly that.
While all the other grooms were watching the Bride Pageant, I was prowling around backstage, checking to see if I could figure out any ways the Alveron Horde could have infiltrated the games.
Part of the problem was that I didn’t know what I was looking for, only that I had a deep conviction that the Horde was planning something nefarious.
Of course, the Horde was physiologically so different from us—and from humans—that it was unlikely they’d be able to pose as either Khanavai or human.
At least, that was what we assumed.
To the best of my knowledge—and I had top-secret clearance, so my knowledge was among the best—no one had ever seen a member of the Horde alive.
For that matter, we were not certain that the husks we recovered from downed Hordeships were the driving intelligences of the attacks. By the time we got to the ships and pried them open, all that was left inside were shells, like ones from the bugs that humans called locusts. Paper-thin remains that crumbled at the slightest touch.
Our scientists had speculated that the Horde was controlled by a single intelligence, like the queen of a hive. If that was the case, then presumably that single intelligence could be outsmarted. We simply hadn’t figured out how yet.
The best we had managed to do was drive the Horde back.
We hadn’t even shared all of this information with our human allies. For that matter, relatively few Khanavai knew it. And if we could find a way to defeat the Horde once and for all, no one would ever need to know.
In the meantime, the long quiet spell since the last Horde incursion was making those of us who studied them for a living very nervous.
Regardless, though, there aren’t any Hordeships or giant bug aliens backstage at the Bride Games.
Just crowds of human females, I suddenly realized, many of them staring up at me with wide eyes. The effect of all those human gazes on me was unnerving.
Even the scent of them was overwhelming. I caught bits of fragrance ranging from a hint of Lorishi shellfruit to the smell of rain in the Darinsk forests, to the rank scent of Klarvi sour mash.
I have to get out of here. As I turned to make my way to the lift, however, I caught a whiff of something entirely different—something enticing and sweet.
My heart leaped in my chest and a deep, possessive part of me growled, mine.
Maybe I could find a mate here, after all.
I froze, trying to find it again in a sea of smells. Slowly, I turned in a circle, my head tilted back in an ancient, predatorial stance while I teased out all the smells around me. The human females standing closest to me began backing away as if recognizing a hunter in the midst of prey.
The tantalizing scent was gone.
I ached to follow it—as the old saying went, the cock follows where the nose leads. But I couldn’t figure out where the scent had come from.
My cock had nothing to follow.
For another second, I searched the crowds, hoping to see something that would spark a recognition in me.
Nothing.
Rather, there were dozens of attractive human females. But not one of them called out to my soul.
Maybe it had been my imagination. An effect of wishful thinking on an overactive imagination.
With a sigh, I headed back to the lift.
Moments later, as I made my way into the stands where I could at least pretend to be interested in the pageant going on below, everyone’s screen went blank for a moment. When they switched back on, they all showed Vos standing in front of an image of an Earther cityscape. “Warriors and women,” he began, “Earthers and Khanavai, we have an exciting new development in this year’s Bride Games. Apparently, one of our contestants has run. That’s right—for the first time in all the years we’ve been holding the lottery, a bride has, as the Earthers sometimes say, gone on the lam.”
A gasp went up at the announcement and the grooms in the stands began whispering to one another.
That’s interesting. I wonder how a human woman will fare on Earth trying to get away from Khanavai-level technology.
As I settled into my seat, the next bride stepped up onto the dais for her interview.
“And now let’s give Lottery Bride winner Natalie Ferguson a warm Khanavai welcome!” Vos Klavoii announced cheerfully. She gave a distracted nod to the host.
“So tell us, Natalie,” Vos continued, “what are you thinking right now as you join the Bride Games?”
“I’m wishing I had thought to run,” the dark-haired human in the unflattering blue dress replied.
Vos went silent, then spluttered for a second before finally saying, “But becoming a Khanavai warrior’s bride is an honor.”
“For other women, maybe,” Natalie Ferguson shot back. “But I liked my life back home. I want to finish my college degree, get a job, and then maybe find someone to settle down with. Maybe. I’m not sure I want to get married at all.”
The arena grew entirely silent, and I found myself chortling at her replies.
“What about your planet’s treaty with the Khanavai? Their agreement to protect Earth?” Vos’s voice dropped and Natalie leaned in toward him. “What about the warriors who are willing to give their lives to keep you safe? Don’t they deserve some reward?”
At his last line, she jerked away from him again. “I’m not some prize to be given away on a whim.”
Vos laughed aloud, turning back to face the camera. “You heard it from her, warriors and women. Natalie Ferguson is no prize.”
Natalie glared at him for a moment, then walked off the small set.
Now, she was interesting.
And as the synthesized version of her scent floated across the grooms’ seating area, I caught a hint of what I’d smelled earlier.
Not quite the same. But close. Could the synthesizing process have changed it so much that I wasn’t recognizing it?
Perhaps.
In that case, I should probably meet her.
I hesitated, uncertain whether to turn the pretense that I was looking for a bride into something more real.
Or maybe I should go to the space survey deck to see if they had completed the new scan of the observable skies that I had ordered when I first arrived.
I wasn’t sure about Natalie Ferguson—but her smell enticed me. If she was the source of the scent I’d caught earlier, I needed to meet her. I held my finger over the option to choose her, trying to decide why my stomach clenched as I considered taking her as my mate.
Could I live with her forever?
I shook my head. Why wouldn’t I be able to? The Khanavai had a long traditio
n of choosing mates for life.
I sighed. This is a side effect of your fears about the Alveron Horde, I told myself. It had nothing to do with reality—just like those fears.
I shouldn’t worry about whether or not my mate would be perfect for me. The Bride Games had a long history of making perfect matches.
But the things I valued—my long history of battles won against the Alveron Horde, my strength, my power, my military command, my influence on Khanav Prime? Those were not the things human women were said to value.
No. Human women valued softness. Kindness. The ability to compromise and make decisions together.
I shouldn’t be here.
At the thought, I gave a bitter laugh. My very anxiety about choosing a mate felt like softness.
Maybe I do belong here, after all.
Shaking my head, I swiped through the display and chose Natalie Ferguson as a possible mate.
Chapter Five
Mia
I cannot believe she said she wishes she’d run.
Didn’t she know saying something like that would just draw more attention to her?
I didn’t want to be here, either. But I was going to take the exact opposite approach. Instead of making a big deal about how much I wanted to go back to Earth, I was going to be a nobody. I wanted to be sure no one even remembered my name.
When Thorvid came back into my room with the plain black gown I requested, I had it style my hair in a simple ponytail clasped at the back of my neck with a plain black band.
“It’s so boring,” the Poltien complained. “You have such beautiful dark curls. We could do something truly interesting with your hair.”
I gave it a severe look. “Absolutely not. Nothing interesting, whatever that means. I want to look elegant and classic.”
That, I had decided, was going to be how I got out of this mess.
It hadn’t taken Thorvid very long to finish getting me ready, especially once I had insisted on minimal makeup. My Poltien handler had been disappointed, I could tell from its crestfallen expression as it surveyed the results in the mirror.
Claimed for the Alien Bride Lottery Page 2
