Auctioned to the Alpha: A SciFi Alien Mail Order Bride Romance (TerraMates Book 5) (19 page)

Eden inspected the walls of the cage with a sinking heart. Ominous bolts of red electricity sparked between the spaces of the black bars. She had as much chance of escaping containment as a roasted duck hanging in the display window of a Chinese restaurant.

She puckered her lips as she breathed loudly through her mouth. She tried to keep her mind calm as she studied her surroundings. The walls around her cage contained rows of capsules reaching higher than she could see. She stretched her neck forward, straining to get a better look at the mysterious vessels. They had a thick, gelatinous liquid the murky color of mucus and something Eden couldn't comprehend.

When she realized what was in the capsules, she gasped in shock. Along with a handful of humanoid captives, different races of aliens occupied the containers. The capsules permanently preserved their final haunting expressions before death. Eden tore her eyes away from the gruesome graveyard. She fought back the sour taste of bile rising in her throat.

The sprouts of moss growing from damp spots on the crumbling cavern walls suggested she was underground. As she saw dozens of uniformed Noxx officials pouring in through a doorway on her right, she realized where she was.

Bounty hunters had been on a quest to uncover the lair of the Noxx army for years. She was in the middle of it. Thiago would love this place if he could ever find it.

"Hey, assholes! Let me out of here!" Eden said in disgust.

Eden pulled back as her gob of spit bounced off the sparking cage bars and deflected back on her face. The heads of the aliens shifted up to listen to the shrieks of the human prisoner. One was startled more than the others. The bungling official struck the back of his head on a hanging wall fixture. He reeled over dizzily before another alien swooped in and caught him.

"You! You there with the lazy eye! Stop acting like you can't hear me. I know you can. Go ahead, guys, walk away from me all you want. I've got a whole playlist of horrible pop songs in my arsenal, and I'm not afraid to use them! I'll give you a fair warning. I can't carry a tune to save my life."

The Noxx officials continued as if she hadn't said anything. A few shielded their ears to block out Eden's obnoxiously shrill voice. She cleared her throat theatrically. When she started belting the tune to one of her favorite childhood TV shows, a few aliens cried out boisterously in protest.

Eden's mouth shriveled shut as the door to the central entryway opened. A Noxx dressed in a unique set of black army fatigues strode into the room. He was much taller than the guards. In addition to the Noxx's imposing height, there were distinctive chocolate-brown markings shaped in a lopsided V between his eyes. Before, the officials were at ease. After their superior entered, they quietly moved to form neat lines.

Arleda quickly joined him. "I'm interested to know your thoughts on the cargo, Malatov."

The pair ascended a long flight of steps leading to the pedestal on which Eden's cage rested. Eden cowered before them, burying her face in her arms as the pair leaned in and examined her. Malatov snarled, his guttural roar frightening everyone as it echoed through the space of the underground cavern.

"
Look at me
."

Involuntarily, Eden's head moved up from her arm. Disobeying the commanding voice was difficult. As Malatov sized her up, she couldn't stop her teeth from chattering. At this proximity, the Noxx leader was worse than she had imagined.

Malatov probed her with his fiery amber eyes. The one on his left was sewn partially shut and only exposed a sliver of a congealed, severely infected eye socket. The grayed feathers that adorned his head drooped from age. Exquisite, time-worn tattoos covered the gleaming white scales of the bowling ball-sized muscles bulging from his arms.

Arleda beamed alongside him. She sneaked a cheeky wink in Eden's direction. The Arkadian woman's hair was pulled away from her face in a sleek ponytail, displaying her beautiful chin and close-lipped smile in its full glory.

"Are you sure you've brought me the correct tramp? This one's human, for goodness sake."

"Trust me, this is the one. It looks like Thiago's got himself a new fetish for Earth skanks. The half-breed's finally showing his true colors, I suppose."

Malatov laughed huskily in agreement. He stroked his chin. A flake of skin peeled off his pink snout as he sniffed Eden.

"She's little on the lean side. I don't like her hair, but she smells as sweet as my last kill."

"I can guarantee that Thiago will be looking for her very soon. He'll come directly to you. When he arrives, you and your men are free to finish him off."

Eden gasped. "Arleda, why are you doing this?" she asked. Her voice sounded more brittle than she had intended. "How could you? With him? Look at him!"

"Don't take it personally, sweetheart. It's just business," Arleda replied promptly. The nasty tone of her voice sent an unpleasant tingle down Eden's spine. "You're a smart girl. Keep your head up. For what it's worth, I did like you. If you need to why, it should be obvious. Malatov is offering much more than any of the pitiful rewards the authorities are willing to fork over."

"You greedy, two-faced bitch."

Arleda stuck a hand on her hip and motioned to a new, ring-pop sized jewel on the little finger of her free hand. "That may be, but I've just bought myself a nice little treat worth more than your life ever will be. It only cost a quarter of what I received for escorting you here. The ring's not too flashy, is it? What do you think?"

"I think you should take that ring and jam it up your mom's hole in case she spawns any more of Satan's babies."

"Feisty girl!" Arleda rolled her eyes. "When you have no weapons left, all you can do is use your mouth."

Malatov stuck a hand through the bars of the cage to caress the supple skin of Eden's burning cheeks.

"I can see why the bastard's got a soft spot for her. She's attractive, in a primitive sort of way."

Eden whipped her hair around her face as she pulled away from Malatov. Her shackles clanged together. Two small spiders crawled out from Malatov's sleeves, crossed the bridge of his crooked yellowing fingers, and leaped onto Eden's twisting neck.

As his fingers approached her contorting lips, Eden reacted instinctively. She clamped her jaw over two of his fingers, chomping down as hard as she could.

"Son of a bitch! Get off of me, you disgusting human!"

There was a loud crack as Malatov's knuckles connected with Eden's cheek. Her head slumped to the side of her neck. She couldn't believe the viscous display of force. Malatov withdrew his arms from the cage, angrily setting the voltage of the cage bars to its highest setting.

As a bickering Arleda and Malatov wandered down the flight of steps and away from her, Eden couldn't control her emotions any longer. Sobbing, Eden quietly cried herself to sleep.

A woman's gentle modulated voice wafted out the speakers of the shuttle cars.

This is a safety announcement from the staff at the HT-007 Inter-territory Shuttle System. Constant video recording is in effect for the security of both our staff and our passengers. We would like to remind patrons not to leave luggage or any belongings unattended. Abandoned belongings will be confiscated by security personnel and destroyed immediately without further notice.

The air was thick with the musky sweat, body odor, and tentacle secretions of traveling passengers. In the after-work rush hour, the light chatter and pleasantries were muffled by the rhythmic whoosh of the ISS zipping through the tunnels. Most passengers were quiet. They were exhausted from a day's work. Some stared blankly into space with dead eyes; they kept their hands idly folded in their laps. Others snored loudly in their seats or slept standing up, resting their heads on their arms as they steadied themselves with hanging straps.

Thiago loitered close to a door in a back of a congested car, leaning against a ridged wall. He was unprepared when the shuttle made an abrupt turn to the left. He collided with an Azkal next to him, who was already in a foul mood because his face had smashed against the ceiling. Thiago mumbled a quick apology and evaded the alien's six glowering eyes by tugging a hood over his head.

A lifetime of social skills left unpolished had resulted in the enhancement of Thiago's naturally agoraphobic tendencies. He couldn't recall the last time he had been aboard public transportation. With the notorious stigma and unabashed racism that followed half-humans, he had grown accustomed to keeping a low profile. It was impossible to feel safe in a crowd without his cloak, or, at the very least, a prosthetic disguise to conceal his nature.

Today, he opted to leave Hercules and his spaceship parked back at the campsite in case Eden decided to return. If he'd learned anything from their past disagreements, it was that it was best to keep himself at a distance until Eden's anger subsided on its own.

After a long period of contemplation, Thiago had enough sense to realize that even though he might not have been at fault, it appeared otherwise to Eden. Even though Eden exhibited a larger scope of moodiness than most of Thiago's other flings and one-night-stands, at the end of the day, she was the only female he had ever been with who eventually saw reason.

Next stop – the Land of the Fallen Cemetery. If your final destination is the cemetery, please disembark and proceed to Exit A or Exit B. If you wish to transfer to the Runic Territory line, change shuttles here.

Thiago squeezed through the crowds and out the open doorway of the shuttle. He exited the station and stopped at a corner store next to the cemetery. A friendly teenage girl manned the cramped booth in a threadbare coat patterned with illustrated shooting stars. She wore a mask that covered her nose and mouth.

Except for the snow-white scales that covered her body, the girl could almost pass for human. She had black waves of hair that stopped at her shoulders, and wide-set, brown eyes. Born half-Noxx, the orphan had been immediately disowned by society and forced into poverty.

She needed the money she made from the tiny booth to stay afloat. The young girl tended to her shop no matter what the weather conditions were, always displaying a cheerful disposition and a happy-go-lucky attitude that never went stale. Thiago purchased a pair of handmade pillar candles with sparkling moon rocks and blue seashells embedded into the orange wax. He left the girl speechless when he paid for the candles. Thiago was feeling generous and left an enormous tip.

Thiago proceeded through the unmanned gates of the cemetery. The massive graveyard was respectfully silent. Only a handful of visitors wandered through an area that housed over thirty thousand headstones. He headed directly toward a cluster of gravestones situated on the eastern side of the territory.

His solitary footsteps sounded disconcertingly loud against the stone footpath as he passed a sign over an archway. Letters were both missing or hanging on their hinges, but a newcomer could decipher the original words on the sign:
Pacem Village Massacre Resting Ground
.

Except for a few select graves, most of the burial ground lay in miserable conditions. Shriveled plants, incense stubs, and ashes covered abandoned tombstones. Thiago moved off the footpath and made his way through a grid pattern arrangement of graves. As he drew closer to a particular pair of joined headstones near the center of the fourth row, he slowed to a stop.

The twin tombstones of his parents looked freshly polished. The off-white marble shined like it had been made yesterday. Someone had carefully swept old leaves to the side. A gem vase filled with a bouquet of cosmic orchids sat on the patch of grass in front of the headstones. The vibrant petals of the quirky purple and blue orchids sniffled with their persistent illness, adding a dynamic touch to the somber graves.

Thiago knelt on the ground and gazed at the miniature screens embedded on the tombstones above the engraved names and lifespan dates. Six-second scenes displayed in a permanent loop on the screens. The one on the left featured the face of a stern Arkadian man in his mid-fifties. An ill-tailored coat hung loosely over his translucent skin. It looked baked from constant exposure to the sun. The man's trimmed lampshade mustache wiggled like a baby caterpillar above his pursed lips. There were wrinkles around his eyes. It looked as if he were trying not to smile while someone made silly faces in the background.

The screen on the right displayed an attractive human woman in her late forties. The Swedish woman's heavily teased hair ran a little over her defined collarbone. She had the same white-blond locks as her son. Her thick, side-swept bangs bobbed along with her as she laughed soundlessly, tilting her bouncing head back with careless gaiety.

Thiago unpacked his candles and set each one under a headstone. He lit them, using his hand to block out any unwanted drafts. The flames flickered on the wicks as they burned radiantly in contrast to the drearily lit cemetery. Shadows of the night lapped at the sides of Thiago's face. He folded his legs underneath him and sat rigidly still.

In beautiful solitude, the son kept his dead parents company for two hours before he finally left.

Thiago returned to his ship with enough food for two people and a smelly satchel bursting with assorted fish heads for Hercules. He had to juggle everything he was carrying to keep his bag upright in his left hand. At the same time, he balanced the flimsy bags in his right. All the packages were in danger of collapsing under the weight of the stacked seafood and tentacle wonton soup. As he approached the ship, the feeling of relief that should have naturally appeared at the sight of home never arrived. The only emotion he felt was the worry in his heart.

Hercules was going berserk. The creature ran around in erratic circles on the plot of land where Arleda had parked her spaceship. Thiago raced to the animal's side as quickly as possible, sacrificing what he was carrying. Sloshing soup escaped from overturned lids. Fish heads spun around in his satchel. His pet's mewling whimpers only came to a halt when Thiago arrived at the scene.