Auctioned to the Alpha: A SciFi Alien Mail Order Bride Romance (TerraMates Book 5) (17 page)

"Madam Cecilia?"

"Who the hell are all of you?"

"My name is Arleda, and this is my associate, Thiago. We contacted you last night about the potential bride we would like to offer your esteemed establishment. We've brought her here, as per our discussion, to see if she will meet your requirements. May we come in?"

Eden squealed in surprise as Madam Cecilia's cold fingers curled around her wrist and forced her forward. She was so frightened she couldn't move. Eden's shoulders became tense as the Madam slid the cloak off her shoulders. Eden's body was not her own any longer. She was twirled around for an inspection, and she was helpless.

The Noxx leaned closer and sniffed her like she was a slab of meat. Next, the madam cupped one hand around Eden's butt and the other on a breast. The stranger squeezed freely, handling Eden's private areas like she was an animal.

Eden had to resist the urge to retaliate for the blatant sexual harassment. Madam Cecilia stepped back and lifted her nose into the air. Her wrinkled lips pressed together. She didn't say anything, but went to the front door and held it open for the group. The trio walked in single file through the doorway.

The heart of the brothel was a blunt contrast to the dismal facade, which looked similar to a drug den when one looked at it from the outside. The interior was spotless and extravagant. Classic gothic furniture filled it, which gave it a regal atmosphere. A carpeted winding staircase led to a series of soundproof rooms. Green and red lights fixed to the doors indicated if the rooms were vacant or occupied.

Paintings featuring generic nature scenes adorned the walls, complementing the romantic floral backdrop of the wallpapers. Soft jazz played from the overhanging speakers. There was even a receptionist behind a counter, complete with a silver bell and a sophisticated centerpiece on the desktop. If it weren't for the interracial mix of alien women in frilly dresses and lingerie lounging around as they waited for the next customer, the building would look like a perfectly quaint bed and breakfast.

"How much are you looking for?" Madam Cecilia inquired coldly, stroking her chin.

"How much do you think she's worth?"

"She's a little bony, but our supply of natural redheads is running low. Forty thousand? Sixty if her hymen's intact."

Eden felt conflicted. On one hand, the casual sex slave bidding war in front of her was revolting. On the other, she was offended that she wasn't even worth six figures.

"We're willing to negotiate. Why don't we have someone test her out first, free of charge," Arleda offered. She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "You know some of your regulars are willing to pay excessive amounts for just an hour with a freshly captured human bride. If the client is fully satisfied, you'll have to cough up
eighty
. If anything goes wrong, and there's the slightest complaint, we'll hand her over for twenty."

"Are you proposing a bet? I do like to play games," Madam Cecilia drawled. She grabbed hold of Eden's chin and forcibly tilted her head upward, tracing her bejeweled four-inch-long stiletto nail along the human woman's quivering flesh. "There's no sign of age lines on her neck. She's a young one." Madam Cecilia looked off into the distance. "I believe she'll fit in quite nicely here."

"What about him?" said Thiago, gesturing to a Glop checking in at the counter.

It was Katakee. The unsightly alien leaned against the countertop as he attempted to chat up the cowering receptionist. With a short, pencil-thin mustache, an oily orange comb-over, and a baby-blue suit emblazoned with half-naked alien women custom made to fit his hulking figure, the cocky fugitive was a peculiar marriage of creepy and weird.

"I believe I've won this bet already. You may be out of luck. That gentleman is one of our best customers. He's also one of the pickiest," said Madam Cecilia, cackling darkly. "Very well, I'll go ahead and make the arrangements."

The train of the Madam's dress trailed after her like a sea of purple snakes. The trio observed carefully from a distance as the Noxx woman exchanged hugs with Katakee. Madam Cecilia and Katakee said quick pleasantries before the madam leaned in close to the Glop fugitive, speaking in hushed tones.

"Are you okay, Eden? You look a little green," said Thiago softly, glancing sideways at her. "Are you sure you can do this?"

"Of course. I'm all right," insisted Eden with false conviction. She fought to keep her voice from trembling. The handcuffs suddenly seemed too tight on her wrists.

"Don't worry," said Arleda, lowering the volume of her voice as Katakee and Madam Cecilia started to head back in their direction. "We'll be right outside the door. It will be just like we practiced."

"Okay."

Katakee grabbed the handle of Eden's leash from Thiago's hands. Madam Cecilia led the way up, ushering Eden and the client towards a suite on the second floor. As Arleda and Thiago began following them up the flight of steps, Katakee grunted disapprovingly, snarling at the madam.

Madam Cecilia got the message. "The client wants you to wait for him downstairs."

"Not a chance," said Thiago immediately. "We need to stand guard by the door to ensure the goods aren't damaged. If we can't protect our investment, the deal is off."

Katakee clucked his tongue indignantly. He ultimately relented. As they reached a room located at the far end of the hallway, the Glop swept Eden off the ground by the waist and slammed the door shut in their faces. Arleda and Thiago nodded at each other briefly, moving to the side of the twin doors as Madam Cecilia sauntered away from them.

Eden gagged as the stench of an overflowing dumpster on a hot summer's day emerged from Katakee's puckered lips. Removing the hood over her head, he wrapped his chubby, brawny arms around her waist. His cold tongue flopped lazily along the contours of her cleavage. Eden tried not to move, but she couldn't help attempting to escape. Katakee quickly grew tired of her squirming and writhing. He shoved her onto a king-sized double bed.

Eden rolled onto her side. She silently watched as Katakee turned his back to her and prepared to disrobe. He laid his concealed weapons down on the coffee table before stripping off his clothes. She clenched her lips and didn't make a sound. Eden focused and lifted her shackled hands to the amulet around her neck. When she gave a small button concealed in the back of the pendant a hard jab, an antique key ejected from a triangle in the center of the necklace. She caught the tiny key with the tips of her fingers and gently fit it into the keyhole in her handcuffs. When Katakee had removed his clothes and turned back around to face her, Eden was already free from the restraints. She bent over to retrieve a laser tucked inside her boot.

Their eyes met across the room, widening simultaneously. Katakee's eyes were frightened, but Eden's eyes were full of anticipation.

"Now," she shouted.

Thiago and Arleda burst through the doors on cue, fully armed and ready for destruction. The startled Katakee whirled around with his hands up in surrender and his boxers halfway down his knees. Eden never got the laser out of her shoe; it refused to budge. She rolled off the bed and crashed onto the floor, making sure to keep herself out of the line of fire.

Eden struck her head against the post on the foot of the bed. As her sight began to blur, she saw Katakee's shadowy figure freeze solid like an awkwardly-posed mannequin and topple forward to the floor with a loud thud.

Back on the ship, Eden was hungry again. She squirted healthy servings of sweet butter frosting onto a tray of millie flour cupcakes. Eden scooped up some of the cream with her fingertips and passed it between her lips, licking contentedly. As she tipped back her head and opened her mouth wide to squirt frosting into her mouth straight from the can, a chiming of bells rang through Thiago's spaceship.

"Arleda's here!"

Thiago emerged from the bathroom, wiping wet hands on his sides as he headed to the door. Arleda entered the ship, balancing a basket of hot meals on top of arms filled with bulging paper bags. Thiago and Eden rushed to help her, brushing away a snooping Hercules. He attempted to poke his head into Arleda's belongings.

"Thank you. I did not want to make two trips," said Arleda, setting the rest of the bags on the kitchen counter.

"I know what you mean," Eden piped up. "I do the same thing with my groceries."

"What is all this stuff?" Thiago's brows furrowed as he browsed through the contents of the bags. The glass bottles clinked against each other noisily as he checked the labels. "There's enough liquor in here to get a small nation blitzed out of their minds. Are you throwing a party? Let's hope it is back on your ship, because I didn't authorize anything like this."

"Of course not," Arleda scoffed, rolling her eyes. "It's all for us. I think our victory calls for a grand celebration, don't you? Katakee is behind bars, where he belongs. We're all a lot richer now."

"You guys got the authorities to close down that horrible brothel, too," said Eden. An involuntary shudder gripped her body at the thought. "I couldn't believe all those poor human women locked away in the basement. They'll be sent off to a rehabilitation center for recovery before they decide what they want to do."

"It was one of our better engagements," Thiago conceded. "But your purchases are inappropriate. Did you forget humans are deathly allergic to alcohol on this planet?"

"Oh, no, that's okay. You guys go ahead and partake as much as you want. You deserve it. I'm happy to babysit."

"I'm offended you think I would ever forget about Eden," Arleda interjected smugly. Stuffing her hand into one of the bags, she rifled through to the bottom. Her fist emerged moments later, dangling a clear bag with nuggets of dark purple bud covered with fuzzy yellow hair. "Dolly grass is all-natural and a hundred percent human-friendly. I guarantee it."

Thiago selected an alternative instrumental playlist to play over the speakers. The relaxing mood music had a pacifying effect on the trio sprawled on the couch. As Arleda filled two glasses of Pasquin ale to the rim of the glass, Thiago instructed Eden on how to pack a healthy, hard-hitting dolly joint.

There was a vanilla flavor to the wrapping paper as he sealed the joint shut. He pressed the finished product to his lips and lit up the other end. Faint tufts of purple smoke were floating through his parted lips. He passed it over to Eden to begin the cycle.

Within an hour, all three were deliriously happy, reveling in different levels of buzz. Eden rose from the couch, a numbing head rush coursing through her body as she stood up. She jumped over Arleda and Thiago's stretched legs on the coffee table. Her thin frame swayed side to side in drowsy glee. The heavenly weed completely alleviated the soreness in her legs. She felt like she was walking on a patch of fluffy, airy clouds as she tread gingerly on the carpet. She practically levitated to the bathroom.

Some time later, Eden stumbled out of the toilet after a fierce struggle with her jumpsuit zipper. As she bumbled her way back to the couch, the carefree smile stretched across her face swiftly vanished. Her knees buckled against each other. Her legs suddenly felt softer than gelatin. Every instinct in her body told her to look away, but she couldn't. Instead, her eyes locked onto a heart-twisting scene.

She stared blankly at Arleda and Thiago, who had their lips locked in an intense kiss. As Thiago slowly became aware that he was being observed, he pulled away from Arleda. His eyes widened in horror at the sight of the shell-shocked Eden, standing just a few feet away.

Eden was suddenly able to move her legs again.

"Eden, wait!"

Ignoring Thiago and Arleda's pleading cries, she stomped on the pedal attached to the wall of the doorway. Before either of them could stop her, she slipped through the jaws of the opening doors and vanished out of sight.

FIVE MINUTES EARLIER

A dense violet fog cloaked Thiago's ship. The sound of mellow beats playing in the background made him unconsciously turn his head from side to side. The sweet warmth of the Pasquin ale toasted his body from the inside out. The mild spasms of muscle pain that were always present in a bounty hunter's body had decided to take a temporary vacation. He felt like a billionaire tycoon lounging around at a secret hideaway.

The capture of Katakee was still a recent success in everyone's mind. All three of them had followed the plan to near perfection. It was one of those rare moments teamwork had worked for Thiago. He couldn't remember the last thime he had allowed himself to relax this freely. There was always something else that needed to be taken care of or a project he could work on to get ahead.

Not at this moment. Right now, his only concern was pouring himself another shot of ale which he hoped would lull him to sleep.

The couch squeaked underneath Thiago as he shifted in his seat. He kept the heels of his boots hooked on the edge of the coffee table as he rested his palms flat on his stomach. As his drooping head nodded sideways, his eyelids began to close.

"Thiago."

His head snapped upright. He was dazed and blinking sleepily as his head slowly turned to his left. Arleda reclined on his couch like an Egyptian queen sitting on a chaise lounge throne. In the silence, he had nearly forgotten her presence.

Arleda delicately draped one leg over the other. Purple wisps of smoke drifted from her lips in the shape of little hearts. She offered the blunt to Thiago between her fingers. The chubby spliff was burning midway through its length. She subtly nudged her prominent cleavage closer together with her arms. The Arkadian marking on her forehead glowed a sensual red.

"No thanks," said Thiago hoarsely. His throat felt prickly and dry from all the dolly grass. Groaning, he reached over clumsily to refill his goblet.

"Hold your horses, Thi-ger. Let me get that for you before you make a mess of yourself."

Arleda intercepted his hand, giving him a quick squeeze on the knee to stop him. She tipped the remnants of an open bottle of ale into his goblet. As she handed the glass to him, her hand lingered on Thiago's leg. Her bedazzled spider-black manicure was so pristine that her nails looked unrealistic. But in Thiago's blissful stupor, he failed to notice. His head tilted back against the back of his couch as he accepted the goblet and swallowed the contents in one go.