Power: BBW Alien Lottery Romance (Chosen by the Karal Book 3) (2 page)

The boy’s eyes filled with tears, but the belt must be a real and true threat because he ran. He gave no backward glance as he was swept along with the other stallholders heading for the arches.

“He’ll be alright,” Vanessa said to the old woman, whose face looked to have aged another millennium.

She sniffed. “Less talk and more work.”

Between them, they got everything into the cart. It was only when Vanessa was emptying the last box of bric-a-brac that she saw the paints. “How much for these?”

“Now’s not the time.” Although she looked at Vanessa’s face, trying to work out how much coin she could get from the strange woman who had stopped to help her.

Vanessa knew the old woman was going to drive a hard bargain despite the help she had freely given. In reality, it was Vanessa’s fault; by helping the woman and the boy, she had shown herself as being weak. Most people would have left them to fend for themselves. Something Vanessa might regret not doing if they didn’t get to shelter soon.

“We can trade on the way.” The old woman’s face shrewd, weighing up the young woman before her.

Vanessa heaved the small cart, making it roll forward a few feet. The wheels were old and stiff, making their progress slow. The old woman grasped one of the handles and shoved it hard, and they picked up a little speed, but still Vanessa knew they didn’t have time on their side. The rest of the traders were up ahead, the crowds from the market dispersed, having gone home or found shelter from the danger lurking overhead.

“So,” Vanessa said breathlessly. “The paint.”

“What do you offer?”

“I don’t have a lot of coin.” Vanessa looked at the small used tubes sitting on top of the cart. “And I don’t even know if the paint in them is any good.”

“You’ll have to take a chance. No guarantees in this life.”

The first big spot of rain dropped down, splashing up from where it landed on the handle of the cart. Instinctively Vanessa moved her hand to avoid the droplets of moisture which splashed towards her.

They were still too far away from the arches, and both renewed their effort. Vanessa looked at the old woman, knowing that her thin shawl would not protect her from the oncoming storm.

“Don’t you have a coat?” Vanessa asked.

“There’s a lot of things I don’t have,” the old woman said acidly.

More drops fell, the oppressive heat swept aside for a moment as a blast of cooler air hit them, buffeting the handcart. The downpour was imminent. The arches were a dark silhouette in the distance, but at least they could see them now, and the road began to slope downwards to them.

“I have five coins.”

The old woman laughed. “Not enough.”

“I’ve also helped you.”

“So? You might be a charitable, but I am not.”

Vanessa’s eyes flicked to the paints. It might be weeks before she managed to find any more and she was desperately low. If this storm were as bad as it looked, the market would not be back for weeks.

“Six coins is all I have.” She bit her lip, hating to lie, but six coins was already much more than the paints were worth.

“And your coat.”

Vanessa stopped pushing the cart. “I need my coat so that I can get home.”

“That’s the deal. Six coins and your coat for all the paint I have.” The old woman reached into another box and pulled out two more tubes, one of which was almost new.

“Deal, for all of them.” She began to take off her coat as more spots came down.

“And you help me the rest of the way,” the old woman said, nodding to the arches.

“I’ll be too dead to paint if I don’t get home before the rain.” But, she heaved the cart and they began to run with it towards the arches. Vanessa knew that with no coat, she had no time to lose.

Lytril pulled his hood up around his head, feeling very exposed now he was on his own. A ridiculous thought—these humans would be no match for him. He was well schooled in many martial arts, hand-to-hand combat being taught to all Karalians at an early age. After all, when you were deep space explorers you never knew what creatures you might come across. Dangerous, if you were weaponless. Therefore, self-defence was obligatory for all sons of Karal.

Oppressive heat grew around him as he crossed over to the outskirts of town. He was about a mile away from the airport now, and he was planning what he was going to eat when he reached the sanctuary of his cruiser. His stomach rumbled with hunger, and despite the smells, some of which were inviting to his taste buds, he ignored the street vendors who stood cooking their foods out in the open.

All around him were faces, happy, sad, hungry. Every emotion he could imagine began to crowd in on him, as suffocating as the Earth air. He shut them out, pushing them away, blocking out the noise and the sights of the grubby city around him. Until a different sound jerked him awake from his dreamlike state.

People began to hurry away; he looked around, but couldn’t see why. With no danger present he decided the best thing to do was put his head down and run for the cruiser. It was probably nothing to be afraid of, but the urgency of the humans scattering before him, and the street vendors hurriedly packing their handcarts away, was enough to tell him something was wrong.

Panic and fear were a new emotion for Lytril. He was the ruler of another world; nothing could harm him. Then a beeping noise pulled his attention to his wrist. A light flashed and he pressed a button, hearing Okil’s voice.

“Hier Ruler … Lytril, there is a rain warning.”

“Rain will not hurt me.”

“This rain might. There is a red flood warning and with it an amber acid warning.”

“What does that mean?” Lytril asked impatiently, jogging along the road while he spoke.

“That the basin will flood, sending water into the streets. It has already flooded the east side of the city, so it’s more of a certainty than a warning.”

“I’m half a mile from the cruiser,” Lytril said, looking up at the sky, which had become darker, the air more oppressive. It took his breath away; no, it didn’t give him breath in the first place.

“You don’t have time.” Okil’s voice more urgent now.

He didn’t need to be next to Okil to sense his fear. Lytril realised the impending danger he was in. “Thank you, Okil.”

“Find shelter. Quickly.”

Lytril stopped running and looked around him. Of course, he had no notion of where anything was. The buildings surrounding him seemed to be industrial, no houses or stores. Heading for the nearest door, he tried to push it open, but it wouldn’t budge. As he moved on to the next one, the first drop of rain spattered onto his hand, and unless it was his imagination going wild, he felt a faint sting where it touched his skin.

Going to the next door, he tried to push it open, this time putting his shoulder against it and heaving with all of his strength. It didn’t give. More spots of rain, bigger, and now he was sure he could feel the faint tingle as his skin was burned with poison.

Lytril tried to make sense of what was happening. How could it be that he might very well die here? That the ruler of Karal would die in such a way, in such a place? It was inconceivable.

Just as he was about to move on to the next door, a figure approached him. He could tell it was a woman from the way her body moved, soft and rounded, like a ripe fruit. With her sweater pulled up over their head, her long auburn hair streamed out behind her as she ran, a flash of colour in the fading light. For a brief moment, she paused, looking up into his eyes. His heart jolted, a thing he put down to the poison rain entering his system, because a human
could not
have this effect on him. Not with one glance,
not with a thousand glances.

Then she spoke, “Come on. We need to hurry. We need to get inside.”

With that, she shifted the pack she was carrying over to one arm, took his hand in hers and dragged him along the road. His feet were not his to control, neither was his heart. The poison rain was working to shut down his nervous system, although she seemed unaffected.

Only when they stopped outside a door and she released him, while she put the key in the lock and opened the door, did it stop. In that split second, he gained a new awareness.
Of her
. He stood staring at her, like a fool. What had he done? Coming here was a mistake; she must have drugged him, the rain must have impaired his senses.

Something must have happened to him, Lytril, Hier Ruler of Karal. Because he didn’t believe in love, especially not at first sight. As she opened the door and led him inside, he knew he had to bury those emotions. The lottery winner was already chosen. He needed to block this female out. He wouldn’t be here for long; he could control himself.
He could.

What was she supposed to do? Leave him on the street to die? OK, so that might be a little bit of an exaggeration, but he would have received chemical burns and if this part of the city flooded, as it had on several occasions, he might have drowned.

Anyway, it was done; he now stood in her apartment, which was actually a warehouse where she had converted a small corner into a living area. It had a sofa, bed and kitchen. What else did she need? Oh yes, a bathroom. That was the only thing that wasn’t open plan.

“Are you OK? There is some liquid soap in the bathroom which will get rid of any residue if you need it.” She should be using it herself, but she had escaped the worst of the rain. After she got the old lady to safety, she had turned and run. Dodging into any shelter she could as the first showers began. When there had been a brief respite, she had run as fast as she could for home.

He looked at her and then down at his hands, examining them. She tried to catch a glimpse of his face, but his hood was still pulled up around it. Turning to hide her smile, she wondered if he realised how ridiculous he looked in one of those shirts that made him look like the men used to centuries ago.

It was the only way, these days, that men could look strong, toned and muscled. The food and air stopped men being men; there was not enough goodness in either, so they went for the next best thing. They faked it. Vanessa was the kind of woman who didn’t like to fake anything.

Her eyes caught the vibrant colours of her paintings lining the walls of the warehouse. Apart from her art. She painted pictures to inspire and give hope. Trying to capture the world as it was, the creatures that walked the Earth centuries ago. The flora and fauna of a different world, one full of life, not choking to death in its own effluence.

“Where?” he asked, his voice deep and rich, matching his physique. She wondered if that was false too.

“Here.” She walked over to the bathroom door, tucked away in the corner of the warehouse. The light came on automatically, illuminating the small room. “It’s not much, but it is functional.”

“It is very small,” he said, looking inside. “I will need to remove my clothes before I go in there.”

“Sure,” she said, intrigued to see what he looked like without the shirt on.

Pushing the hood down off his head, she looked at his face for the first time, gasping at his healthy complexion and smooth toned skin. He didn’t look like any man she had ever met, not in the city anyway. But then the surprises stacked up even more. Removing his shirt, he proved there was nothing false about him. Nothing at all. The big, bulking muscles were all his own.

His hands went to his zipper, and she realised he was about to drop his pants. She covered her eyes and turned away. “Whoa, I’ll give you some privacy.” Shielding her eyes, she headed for the kitchen area, only letting out her pent-up breath when she heard the bathroom door shut and the shower start.

Great. She had a naked stranger in her bathroom using up all of her hot water. But oh, what a man he was. Or was he? She began to question what exactly she had let in to her apartment. A sneaking suspicion bubbled up inside her. He looked just like one of the aliens.

“Right, and you just happened to find him outside on the street,” she said to herself as she filled the kettle and put it on the stove. She tried to light the gas, concerned when it took three attempts. With the heavy rain, there was a good chance it would go out and she would be left with nothing to cook on.

She mentally went through her cupboards. They wouldn’t starve, but if he was an alien, she wasn’t exactly going to wow him with her culinary skills. Crackers and synthetic cheese were about as appetising as they sounded.

Wrinkling her nose, she left the kettle to boil and went back to her pack. Opening it, she surveyed the paints she had traded her coins and coat for. Taking them out one at a time, she carefully placed them on the small table. New paints were getting harder to come by and finding any used tubes that weren’t totally dried up was almost as hard.

The used tubes she had bought today were red and blue, the tubes malleable, leaving her to think they would be of use. But the yellow was her biggest prize. It was what had made the trade worth the high price. She wanted to paint the sun in an azure sky. Something she hadn’t seen for years under all the smog that covered the city. But she had dreamed about it.

Now that dream burned in her head so badly she had to paint it. It was a way of exorcising it from her mind. If she didn’t, there would be no peace.

Behind her, she was aware of the shower switching off. At least she might have some hot water left to wash her clothes. If not, she might have to wait another day. The rain outside could be heard hammering down on the roof two stories above. It would only be a matter of time until they lost electricity.

Setting her paints down, she went back to the kitchen. Time to prepare for the imminent blackness that would engulf the building and the rest of the city. Vanessa always kept the candles handy; it wasn’t often that she would go more than two days without a blackout. A shiver passed through her. Not cold, but excitement. It was ridiculous, but it felt somewhat romantic, the thought of being here in the dark with him.

The
him
she was thinking about had just exited the bathroom. Wet hair slicked back, making it look darker and glossy. And sexy. Damn, this was going to be a long night.