by Zora Jorel
MARKUZ
A Sci Fi Alien Romance
Zora Jorel
Rae Reigns
Rae Reigns Publishing
Contents
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Also by Zora Jorel
Also by Rae Reigns
Copyright © 2019 by Zora Jorel
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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1
I’d rather be back in Brazil, fighting aliens and robots from outer space, than with my own flesh and blood.
Instead, I’m here and now, on the brink of sensory overload. Chalky candy. Crinkly wrappers. A squeaking revolving fan. And the smell, that scent of burning biscuits in a nitro oven.
The details take me back. I’m sitting here, on my mother’s fairly new couch, looking at her blank 36 inch q-screen, in a living room cleaner than anything I grew up in when I stayed with her, yet those little things make this place feel like the same hellhole from 20 years ago.
I squeeze my fist, digging my nails through the palm.
Why am I here? I don’t belong with these jackals.
It can’t be more than two hours post-funeral, after seeing my ex-junkie, suddenly-beloved-by-the-old-neighborhood mother sent six feet under, and I already feel like the world’s pressing in on my lungs. My new dress is constricting, a reminder of the week of stress eating leading up to this shit show. I hear the same, slow little “Big Bone Brea” jingle Mama used to taunt me with when she fed me slimming-synths while her boyfriends chomped on fried chicken with macaroni and cheese.
“You good, right, babe?” my boyfriend Harvey asks. The answer doesn’t matter since he’s right back to doing Harvey things, smiling and schmoozing, putting my mom’s high-speaking, over-preaching pastor to shame by making sure his boss’s campaign slogan squeezes into every conversation. Re-elect Holmes for D.A. Make sure justice doesn’t have a price.
Good ol’ Harvey, never letting a public gathering go to waste.
I rise to get some air, and who just happens to come up to me but my mom’s old BFF, Nancy. The years have been kinder to her than I’d have guessed they would be, with only a single layer of caked foundation needed to hide the years of wear and tear. But in my eyes she’s still 45-proof Nancy, smelling like Crown Royal from two blocks away. “I meant to talk to you earlier, baby girl. Haven’t you been feeding yourself well! It looks good on you.”
Wow. +1 for creativity. If she were a boxer I’d call her Iron Mike for that uppercut. “Thank you Ms. Nancy. You’re looking well, too.”
“Good living.” My ass. “I’m so glad you came. You don’t know how proud your Mama was seeing you become some fancy, famous name. She used to tell everybody those aliens didn’t never stood a chance because she taught you how to fight!”
I grind my teeth. “I’m glad. I wish I would’ve had the chance to hear that from her.”
“Girl, you should’ve showed you face around here, then,” she scolds, making me claw at my leg. “Would’ve tickled her pink for her to see how much you look like her now. It’s like she’s back from the dead!”
That does it. I politely smile, hug her with restraint, and excuse myself.
I feel sick. I need air.
It feels like all eyes are on me. They have been since I got here. Everyone knows I’m here not out of love, but duty.
Duty to a mother who couldn’t stand me. Duty to an uncle who saved me when I needed it most.
An uncle who won’t even acknowledge me now. Ever since I became a cop after leaving the EEF, I knew I’d be at odds with a lot of the people from the neighborhood. Hell, it was the same way after after I joined the service.
She thinks she’s too good. Always was something funny about Brea. Big Boned Brea. No wonder her momma didn’t want her.
And every time Uncle Tee would say the same thing he told me when he took me from my mom, that night when the smell of burnt biscuits filled the air.
“Never let them see you cry. Don’t even let them know you can.”
I followed in Tee’s footsteps, enlisting in the military and then joining the police force, to make him proud.
But then Tenna Cotton happened. Found dead in her home from an assault, her case became the microcosm for justice inequality for minorities. Front page news.
She was also the on-again, off-again girlfriend of Uncle Tee’s son, Trey, a kid who’d been like a brother to me. All evidence pointed to him and his alibi fell apart. Harvey needed to make a name for himself with an indictment and he talked my lieutenant into letting me bring Trey in.
I had a job to do. A responsibility.
So I lived up to it, the way Uncle Tee taught me to. Even though I didn’t believe in his guilt, I arrested Trey, and now he’s sitting in jail.
And I lost the only family that’s ever mattered.
“Uncle Tee, I’ll fix this. I promise.” I awkwardly put my hand on his shoulder. He looks stiff and tired, so much older than the father figure I’ve come to remember.
“Maybe now’s not the best time.” My cousin Jazz inserts herself into business that’s not hers, just like her trifling ass has done since we were girls. “I can just tell you’re broken up and all about your momma. So maybe you should go and get back to work. It’s what you do best.”
Tee looks up, anger on his face. Before he can say anything, I take off.
Never let them see you cry. My sisters in the 21st called me the Rock, and I act the part, head held high as I push through the crowd.
Before I can make it to the open door, a breeze hits me. There’s a scent on the air, a powerful musk that ignites my body.The temperature of the room instantly rises. I stop dead in my tracks, and all eyes focus on me.
But they don’t matter. It’s his eyes that do. Invisible eyes that have been watching me for days, weeks. I bite my lips and clench my fists hard enough to draw blood. The pain ignites my pleasure centers.
Visions of red, of whips and leather, of being held down and embracing the ecstasy from raw, animalistic heat, fill my mind.
My core throbs in need of release.
What’s happening to me? And now, of all times?
I look around, and it’s like the music has stopped at a club. Everybody stares.
“Harvey, let’s go,” I say, barely forcing out the words.
What. The. Hell. I’m losing my mind, that’s all it is. It’s guilt and anguish and unresolved feelings all bunched up, mixing with this paranoia of being watched. Hunted.
It’s only been a few months since my old C.O. Ada disappeared. Abducted by an alien. She might’ve gotten her happy ending, but I don’t trust them. Love always hurts you in the end. I’ll never forget that.
Anyone after me—alien or human—is going to pay a price.
I clutch the pendant on my neck, a remnant of that day in Brazil, when me and my sisters of the 21st, stopped an alien invasion and seemingly saved the word. Making us famous.
Making my blood relatives seethe with jealousy. It’s like they think that I’ve forgo
tten where I come from. I haven’t forgotten a damn thing.
I’m not the one to blame for everything that happened with Mama. And no, I didn’t have a choice in putting Trey behind bars.
I don’t owe these vultures anything.
So why does my heart feel like it’s in a thousand jagged pieces?
“Damn, I guess I owe y’all a T-note. She didn’t even make it till four o’clock before hightailing it!” It’s Zack, Trey’s best friend. He throws an old school twenty dollar bill with Harriet Tubman’s face on it at the other guys playing dice. They laugh as I storm past them off the porch.
Don’t show any weakness, Brea. They can all go to hell.
He is here.
My heart flutters in its pounding. Thoughts scatter in every direction. I look around, sure that I’m being watched by a higher power. The rock pendant gets unnaturally warm…
“Screw them, B. Let’s just go,” Harvey says, opening the door to the limo for me. Just another wonderful way for me to stand out. But dammit, Harvey insisted, and whatever Harvey wants, Harvey gets.
We drive in silence for what seems like hours, the world passing by. My heart thrums, ignited from an invisible fire.
Harvey combs through his uPhone, the holoscreen a perpetual part of his daily life. It’s funny he’s the type of guy I used to warn my Hellcat sisters to stay away from: ambitious, demanding, cold, and calculating. Yet here I am, his perfect little arm piece. He has big plans to become DA one day, and being with a world-famous cop seemed like perfect sense. As for me, it’s nice to actually be wanted.
Still, he’s never made me feel so…hot…the way my imaginary stalker has. Our mutual attraction is best described as ‘functional’. But right now, I need Harvey more than ever. Like, right now, right now.
I roll up the glass separating us from the driver.
“What are you doing?” he asks, as I get on my knees, reaching for his belt.
“What does it look like?”
He grips my wrist. “This isn’t a good time, B. I just messaged Brad that I’d be at the office in 20. I can’t be looking like a mess.”
Is he serious? “Harvey, I promise this will be quick. I need you right now. Just…please.” I feel like a fool, but I have no choice. The world won’t let me scream or cry or show any weakness. I need some kind of release.
“No.” He looks over his shoulder. “For god’s sake, you just came from your mother’s funeral, and the driver will know exactly we’re doing! I have an image to maintain.”
Image? What I’ve always subconsciously known becomes crystal clear: I’m just a means to an end with him. Even when we do make love, it’s tame, restrained. Never like the wild hair pulling, pussy wrecking fest I dream of, that I’ve imagined since returning from Brazil.
“Tell the driver to stop and let me out.”
He clucks his tongue. “Brea, of all the times for you not to act like a little ice princess, you have to choose now?”
“Yes now! Have the driver stop the car. We’re done, Harvey!”
He sighs in frustration and gets the driver to pull over. I storm out into the cool air, punched in the face by that familiar scent. The wetness between my legs is palpable now, but at least I can take pride that it won’t be wasted on Harvey.
“Brea, stop being a brat,” he says as I storm into an alley. I don’t stop and I hear the limo take off.
Knowing Harvey, he’ll have the limo pull around and meet me on the other side of the block, after I’ve “cooled down”, as he likes to put it.
He thinks I’ll go back to him like I always do.
No, not this time. I’m over it. Over him. I feel stupid for even letting him see me get mad about it.
Never let them see you cry.
I blink away the moisture in my eyes, thinking about Mama, about Uncle Tee, about Trey, about my whole fucking messed up life.
Cora, Dawn, and Elena—my fellow Hellcats—came to the funeral, but I let them leave without saying too much. I’ve always been the one they leaned on, not the other way around.
Good ol’ dependable Brea. The Rock. Never needing anyone to make her feel better but always the one to keep everyone else in check.
Sigh.
The only consolation is that Ada is off someone living her best life, not here to see what a mess her second-in-command has become.
Suddenly the holo-graffiti around me starts to flicker and fade. The world becomes dark, as if a storm has moved in from the North. I feel a chill. Goosebumps pebble my skin, from my ankles all the way to my neck.
In front of me, blocking my way, is him. A shadow in a trench coat and hat, drawing in all light in his wake.
Oh shit, I was right.
He moves in on me, and before I can pull out my gun, he’s there. His touch burns, a fire so intense it could boil water, so searing it permeates.
I feel it in my chest, down my sternum, between my legs.
I turn and send a tight-fisted cross to where I imagine his ribcage to be. I swear the fucker smiles, arrogance contorting his dark, gray face.
“Let me go!” are the only words I get out before everything goes dark, before it all fades to black.
I wake up hot. Sweating. My head feels like it weighs an extra five pounds. My mouth is dry.
Everything else is wet. I squeeze my legs in response to the overpowering sensation to do the exact opposite, to spread them wide because of the immense ache.
“Fire lust,” the voice in my head whispers.
The hell.
I look around. I’m sitting at a table with a large light shining on me. The heat emanating from it is intense, the kind of heat you’d get from an incandescent bulb of the last century.
“Aw crap.” These are not the clothes I was in before. My dress is gone, replaced by mesh covering me from head to toe. It’s like fishnet, but lighter than Earth material, and perpetually fluttering against my body.
It does a wicked squeeze-and-release dance on my nipples as I breathe. I want to cry from ecstasy.
My vulnerability is further accentuated by the seat. It’s curved, molded so that my legs are spread. The cool air flows over my swollen lips, dialing up my sensitivity way past its max.
“Where the fuck are my clothes, you asshole?” I yell in defiance, not even realizing that he is sitting right in front of me in the shadows, until I meet his deep, green eyes.
They sparkle like emeralds, like hidden treasure in the abyss.
I’m not crazy. I wasn’t imagining things. He’s here, and he’s big, at least a full seven feet. He’s out of his trench coat and hat. Of course he’s shirtless.
Gulping has never been so difficult.
The dude is J-A-C-K-E-D. I take some solace of the fact that he’s as sweaty as I am. He glistens in the light’s reflection, looking almost oiled.
Markings of different colors cover his torso. On his pec is a symbol that looks like a shield. His eight-pack ends in a perfect V, pointing down to where his gun hangs.
Seriously, there’s a laser gun on his belt.
Judging by his hardness, there’s an even bigger on in his pants.
Oh shit, I’m in trouble now.
Stay calm. Or at least act like it. You were a sergeant in the 21st squadron of Extra-Terrestrial Engagement Force. The best of the best. You helped take down an alien invasion. Show your Hellcat poise.
“I said, where’s my fucking clothes?”
He just smiles, his perfectly white teeth a half moon in the darkness. Of course he doesn’t understand me. I might as well be yelling to him “Take me now, my pussy is yours!”
Not that I’m not thinking it.
Then I remember the last convo I had with Ada, and her telling me how she and her alien lover-boy learned to communicate. I clench my asscheeks, my mind reeling, yet my pussy humming in anticipation.
“If you even try to stick one of those metal balls up my ass just to talk with me, you’ll be choking on your testicles for a week.”
He laughs a hearty laugh, and I want to just kick him in the face.
“Your clothing looked uncomfortable, so I replaced them with something more…amenable.” My eyes widen in surprise at his perfect English. “As far as the p’ena ball, I have no need for such a device, as you can see.” Then he leans in closer. “At least not for communication.”
“Who are you, and what…what the fuck do you want with me?” I demand, my world spinning from want, my mind needing to regain control of a situation in which I have none.
He leans back and sits. “I’m Markuz, a Commandant Premiere of the Sholqua Protectorate. I’ve been watching you, Brea Stone. The sania—the Duqaanian princess—you killed was my leader, under my protection. Now you must answer for your crimes.”
Aw fuck, I’m in trouble now.
2
She’s scared. Good. Although she’d never show it, I can scent the fear on her at the mention of Kulan, my High Sania.
My sera. My genetic mate.
I can also scent something else. Lust. Sexual need. Her attraction to me, animal and raw, a result of centuries of Duqaanian genetic mastery.
There’s no doubt this…Earthan…is the one who bested Kulan in battle. How else could she have absorbed her essence, the very thing that makes my body burn for hers the way I can scent it burns for mine?
Keep control, Markuz. You have a job to do.
After a momentary lapse, Brea regains her composure. Her face is sure, defiant, strong. Even though she’s clearly bested, ostensibly in a situation she has no hope of controlling, and in my grip, of which she can never escape, she still shows the strength I’ve seen from her all these cycles I’ve been surveilling her.
“Listen to me carefully, Markuz. Your princess got what she deserved when she threatened Earth. I killed her alright, and I’d do it again, no questions asked,” she proclaims calmly.
