Alien Mate 2
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For Evaluation Only.
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Copyright © July 2010, Eve Langlais
Cover art by Anastasia Rabiyah © July 2010
Amira Press
Charlotte, NC 28227
www.amirapress.com
ISBN: 978-1-936279-39-5
No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and e-mail, without prior written permission from Amira Press.
Alien Mate 2
Eve Langlais
Lex stood in the bland transport and decontamination room, his naked body tense with anticipation as he waited for the Alpha 350 to teleport him to his intended’s location. When nothing happened, he shifted from one foot to another. “Computer, is there a problem?”
“You know, we’ve been traveling together for a few days now. Could you not call me by something less formal? Your friend Kor calls me Alphie,” said a voice from seemingly nowhere.
“You are a machine,” Lex stated for the umpteenth time.
“An intelligent one,” said the shipboard computer with a sigh.
Lex clenched his teeth. The AI unit on this vessel—artificial intelligence, his ass, more like pain in his ass—kept acting inappropriately.
A machine that
wants to be my friend.
He almost snorted at the incongruity.
Lex had already noted in the service log the need to service this model.
“Please cease with the idle chatter and transport me to my intended mate that I might bond with her and return her to our world.”
“Bit of a problem with that,” announced the AI with a hint of glee.
“What now?” Lex said unable to hide the exasperation in his voice.
“The teleporter seems to be malfunctioning.”
“Impossible. Try again.” The molecular transportation unit had worked as expected at their last planetary spot, so he saw no reason why it wouldn’t be working now.
“Try again? Are you joking?” said the computer with a realistic note of incredulity. “You want me to use a malfunctioning teleporter on you? What, you don’t like your body parts where they are?” Lex winced at the vivid image the AI’s words painted. “What do we need to fix it?”
“
We
can’t. We’ll need some of the techs back home.” Frustration made him tighten his hands into fists. “Unacceptable. I’m here to collect my mate. I will not return without her.” Lex never failed to complete his missions.
“I was afraid you’d say that,” mumbled the Alpha 350. “In that case we’ll need to land, and you can disembark manually.”
“Make it so,” said Lex crossing his arms over his chest imperiously.
“Um, shouldn’t you put some clothes on first?”
“What for?” asked Lex, his brow creasing. “I need to be nude to bond with my mate.”
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“Yes, but you’ll need to find her first,” said the AI with a long-suffering sigh. “You can’t seriously think you can wander around naked and not be noticed. It’s bad enough your skin is blue, but a giant, naked blue male wandering around a human city is sure to get noticed.” Lex frowned. The computer had a valid point, one he should have realized had he not been so anxious to complete his mission. “I will dress myself while you locate a suitable landing area.”
“You do that.”
With what sounded suspiciously like muttering—something to the effect of big blue aliens with more brawn than brains—that Lex chose to ignore, the Alpha 350 revved the engines in preparation to penetrate the atmosphere surrounding the planet known in their database as Earth.
While the computer took care of the minor details involved with landing, Lex clothed himself in a silvery jumpsuit, the material specially made to adapt to all types of weather conditions. He added a pair of supple black boots to protect his feet, and just in case the inhabitants of this Earth proved hostile, he slid a dagger into a waist sheath and another into his boot.
Checking on their progress—still descending into the earth’s atmosphere—Lex pulled up a picture of his intended, Amanda Beckwith, a blonde, blue-eyed alien doll. The only image the AI had been able to find didn’t show her figure, but Lex sure hoped she sported a well-rounded shape like he’d asked for when selected by the Oracle to enter the ranks of the pair-bonded. It was considered a high honor in his society to be chosen to mate, even if the females had to be fetched from other planets. Arranged pair-mating was a necessary survival tactic forced on the males of his world to compensate for the lack of females in their society, a lack cruelly caused by a deadly virus that had decimated the female ranks many moon cycles ago.
Now, only the worthiest were chosen to help repopulate Xaanda, and Lex had acquitted himself well in battle for that honor. A decorated warrior, he’d finally achieved the reward for all his hard work and looked forward to the new life he would undertake with his biddable, if alien, wife.
“We’re almost there,” said the Alpha 350, interrupting his thoughts.
Lex strode down the corridors of the spacecraft to the exit hatch, the AI’s voice giving him last-minute instructions that he only partially listened to.
“Remember to stay out of sight. The humans here are known to capture and medically experiment on unknown species.” Lex would like to see them try.
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“Try and move about at night, where your skin coloring is less likely to be noticed.”
“I don’t intend to be here that long,” Lex muttered. His plan was to find his mate quickly and rendezvous with his ship for a prompt departure to his home world.
“If, by some chance, your communicator malfunctions, I’ll meet you at the gypsum crystal fields on this planet’s full moon a few days from now.” That warning caught his attention. “Why would the communicator malfunction?” asked Lex.
“Just humor me,” said the AI. “The teleporter shouldn’t have malfunctioned either, yet it did. So remember, on the full moon, meet me at the gypsum fields. Now, your mate can be found at 351 El Paso Drive.
Remember to stay out of sight. This location is very close to an Earth military establishment, and while I’ve fooled their radars, I can’t blind their eyes, so be discreet.”
Lex absently nodded, anticipation roaring through him. In and out. His superior warrior training would outclass these humans who were barely more civilized than barbarians.
With a soft thud, the craft landed and the hatch hissed open. Lex descended the ramp and stood on the alien soil, breathing deep. The air, so like that of his own world, smelled of dirt and plant life. Their similar atmospheres made the deportation of the female earthlings viable, that and the fact they were descended from the same group of space-farers who had seeded life throughout the galaxy.
“Where to?” he asked aloud, glad he’d taken on this mission the advanced earpiece communicator that allowed the AI unit to reply back, unlike some other models used on not-as-technologically-advanced planets.
The computer’s tinny voice spoke in his ear. “You need to hike a few miles due west. I couldn’t land any closer without being seen.” Lex jogged off in the direction of his intended, his groin tightening in anticipation. Soon, he’d be among the ranks of the mated and indulging in his lusts whenever he wanted. No more galactic brothels for him. He—and his libido—couldn’t wait.
A few hours later, his breathing ragged, his clothing torn, the baying sound of the animals with vicious teeth still echoing in the darkness behind him, he soundly cursed this planet and the savages who inhabited it.
A fence appeared seemingly out of nowhere in the lightening gloom that signaled the sun’s rising. He nimbly climbed the barrier and dropped to the other side. He quickly scanned the darkness, looking for threats. All clear. He 3
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loped off towards the shadows of the building he could barely perceive. He planned to hide amid the humans in an unused location, perhaps steal some of their clothing, and mask his scent. Well, that was the plan ’til his foot didn’t hit the hard ground, but open space, and he plummeted into an invisible pit of liquid that sucked him down.
His last thought before losing consciousness was he should have listened to the stupid computer who’d recommended they abort when the chase first started.
Too late now.
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“. . . George, who heard it from his cousin Juanita on the base, swears this time, it’s real. Aliens have landed, and they’re not friendly.” The word “alien” caught her attention. Maya turned to the petite Latina woman who spoke. “What’s going on at the base?” Eager to tell her story again to a new avid listener, Marcia spoke quickly.
“Apparently their radars didn’t catch it, but this object, unknown object,” she said with a wide-eyed whisper, “landed by the white sands. My cousin says the military sent out a detachment, and they found a circle like the ones you see in them crops. The dog unit was called in, and last I heard, they were chasing some giant alien, and he’s heading towards us!” Several of the listeners crossed themselves, and excited babble broke out.
Maya shook her head. She knew better than to listen to gossip. How often had so-and-so’s cousin, sister, or uncle made the same claim, when the truth usually ended up being something benign. The last false alarm had been caused by drug runners whose plane had run out of gas and done an emergency landing. That night had also involved a chase, and aliens had been caught, but they were of the illegal immigrant type, not extraterrestrial. But Maya couldn’t help listening to the stories, nor stop that little flutter of hope that maybe this time it would be for real. Her parents had, after all, raised her to believe.
Seeing the bulky form of Andre, the night-shift manager, waddling into the room, Maya slammed her locker shut and hightailed it out of there using the back door before he snagged her to do one more thing. Alamogordo’s stupid yearly balloon festival had almost arrived and, with it, hordes of tourists who for some reason always ended up with an urgent need for food or cleaning at three in the morning. She knew she should be thankful she had a job—especially one with awesome benefits like hers—but right now, tired, her feet aching, and with a headache pulsing behind her eyes, she just wanted to crawl under the covers of her bed and pray she won the lottery.
Yeah right, I’m more likely to run into a hot alien who wants me for my body.
Maya snorted at the ridiculous thought.
Sneaking through a service entrance, she took the shortcut past the pool deck, a copy of the key that unlocked the gate on the other side—without the hotel’s knowledge, of course—a quick route to the employee parking lot and the piece of crap known as her car.
The dawn hadn’t yet started lighting the gloom, but even in the dark, she heard the rattle of the fence as if someone climbed it and then, a moment 5
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later, the distinctive sound of someone or something hitting the surface of the pool with a splash.
Keep on walking
, she told herself.
Don’t get involved
. The early morning swimmer was probably a drunk on his way back from a night of debauchery, but, if whatever was in the pool ended up being human and drowning, then she’d have a hell of a bigger headache, especially if the cops got involved. No one ever believed the Hispanic girl.
Stupid gringos.
Sighing, Maya headed towards the deep end, where she’d heard the sound. Peering at the dark, lapping water, she almost wondered if she’d imagined it, but then a series of bubbles rose to the surface, and with a curse, she kicked off her shoes and dove in. With sure strokes she’d learned from years of swim lessons, she arrowed down to the bottom of the pool and waved her arms around in the sightless murk, encountering nothing. Her chest grew tight and she prepared to go up for air when a flailing limb touched her. Grabbing it, she kicked up, dragging a form that had grown limp, her lungs screaming at the added strain. She broke the surface with a pained gasp. Treading water, she pulled at the body she’d found ’til it bobbed up beside her. Wrapping an arm around his upper body—there was no mistaking the wide male chest—she towed him to the shallow end, where the steps would make it easier to pull him out.