Reader Abduction (Alien Abduction Book 7) (3 page)

Arriving at the top end of the ballroom, alongside Eve and her maniacal smile that nicely offset her tinfoil hat, he finally set her down on legs that wobbled. She didn’t fall, though, not with him anchoring his arm around her waist and tucking her against him, the firmness of his body pressing against her back as she looked upon the sea of faces. She could only hope she didn’t look too beet red in the pictures the attendees took.

“Well, well, well. It seems we’ve been invaded, readers,” Eve announced in a husky voice.

Cheers met her words.

“I wonder which hero, or should I say, mercenary, this bad boy is? Is he acquisition specialist Tren?”

“No!”

“Perhaps Makl or Dyre?”

Various voices shouted out names, but they all quieted when a distinctly male voice boomed, “My name is Phyr.” Finally, the purple dude spoke, with a rich baritone made for whispering naughty things. He spoke in English, too. It just didn’t come from his mouth. Don’t misunderstand her. He spoke with his lips, but the gibberish he uttered emerged perfectly coherent from the small box he held aloft.

“Hi, Fire!” the crowd shouted back.

His body jerked at the loud welcome.

A peek to the side showed Milly grinning wide, a naughty twinkle in her eye. Milly laughed, a wicked chuckle. “Oh, baby, you have no idea what you’re in for. These ladies love a good fire. Give us some heat.”

“Light us up.”

“I can take the heat.”

“Set me on fire!”

The various suggestions came fast and, in some cases, dirty. Through it all, Eve giggled. “Now, now, readers. I think we’re frightening the poor guy. What do you say we find out what he’s here for?”

Drawing his shoulders back, Fire resumed his composure. Little box held aloft, he spoke a stream of gibberish that emerged perfectly coherent from the speaker. “Barbarians of Earth, I, and some of my comrades, have come to claim eligible females for our world.”

“Yay!” someone screamed.

“Take me!” To no one’s surprise, Bambi shouted from the back while her daughter Nicole exclaimed, “Mom! What about Dad?”

Fire saved a few marriages by announcing, “We are only looking for unattached females.”

Loud boos met his words, and Brigitte couldn’t help a smug smile.
I’m single.

“Those fitting our requirement need to stand.”

A lot of chairs went scraping, including one that evoked a shocked male voice exclaiming, “Donna, what are you doing?”

“Sorry, honey.” Donna McDonald, the author who believed romance didn’t stop at forty, and who also had a penchant for hot cyborgs, patted her husband Bruce’s shoulder.

“What do you mean, sorry honey? Sit back down. You’re married to me.”

“Not tonight I’m not. Remember the list? Number three was a purple mercenary from Eve’s alien world.”

Before poor Bruce lost his wife to a list he’d never expected to happen, Fire saved him. “Silence. Both of you. Female, you are not unattached. Seat yourself. Also, those with progeny or who have seen fewer than twenty-five planetary rotations also need to sit.”

Amidst much grumbling, a good portion of those standing resumed sitting.

She thought it cute the guys were choosing to play the game only with those who wouldn’t face consequences. Face it, what happened at RTC would end up getting passed around on social media. The theme of this entire event revolved around romance. Not divorce.

It also meant less competition for Fire’s attention, as only about a dozen women were left standing.

“Zor and Zus, it is time. Round the eligible females up and prepare them for transport to our ship.”

At his order, she noticed the two other men at the entrance to the ballroom, impeccably purple and dressed from head to toe in leather and big black boots. If she’d not already met her hunky dude, she might have ogled more, but it was hard to lust after other men when she was pressed against Fire’s superb bod.

The two guys approached, shaking out what initially appeared to be cords, but she noted were actually handcuffs set on a chain. A few of the woman gasped and blushed as they found their wrists caught, the click of metal slapping shut loud in a room filled with excited murmurs.

The cold touch of metal had Brigitte peering down too late as her own set of cuffs snapped around her wrists.

“Oh, I don’t think you should do that. I really shouldn’t be a part of this.” As organizer, she should step aside, even if her heart fluttered.

“You are attached to another male?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“You are of age?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then you are mine. I claim you for my own.”

A
panty-melting statement
. A part of her realized he said it only as part of the whole fantasy evening event. Yet, that didn’t stop her heart from pitter-pattering and from allowing herself, even if just for a second, to think he meant it.

In that moment, she pretended she was a plucky heroine, living a true romance, like she’d always wanted. She blamed getting caught up in the fantasy for saying the corniest thing, “Take me, I’m yours.”

“As if there were any question or permission involved.”

Totally chauvinistic. Totally hot.

Turning to face forward, she noted the two other guys had reached them, each holding a tether of chained ladies, five for one and only six for the other. A shy reader had plopped herself back down and sat there shaking her head wildly as her friends whispered, “Do it. Come on. You’ll love it.”

“Indeed you would.” Eve winked. “But, readers, we must respect her choice. Not everyone is ready for the great purple. But tonight, these twelve have chosen to go. To leave our world behind forever!”

Cheers and foot stomping met her exclamation.

Hugging the microphone with two hands, Eve smiled. “Before we move on to the next portion of our evening, I really want to thank you for coming tonight. And I mean really, thank you. When the mothers from Aressotle first approached me with their crazy plan to match human women to their sons, I’ll admit I kind of sat on the fence. But a few threats to dump my body in space or feed me bit by bit to the pit monster on the forbidden moon of the lost planet made me see the light. I am ever so grateful to them for relating to me the story of their sons and nephews. By introducing you to those wondrous Kulin heroes, I managed to gather, in one spot, those who would handle life on the galactic frontier and, best of all, love a purple mercenary hunk.”

“Will there be more purple abductions, Eve?”

With a single finger, Eve tilted the foil hat on her head, angling it rakishly over an eye before she loosed a smile. “Fucking eh there will. Starting tonight with these twelve. I envy their upcoming adventure. And I will miss them. You, on the other hand, won’t. Unfortunately, just like last year, none of you will remember this. Once again, you’ll return home from RTC with memories of a different party. Don’t worry, the mind wipe and memory reassignment won’t hurt.”

What was Eve talking about? Brigitte frowned at Eve’s impromptu speech. She’d not been advised Eve created a whole storyline to go with the fun.

“I’m here! As promised and on time, too.”

All eyes went to the back of the ballroom, where a fourth fellow stood. However, unlike the other guys, he wasn’t purple at all. As a matter of fact, he looked like a shaggy, two-legged dog.

“Murphy?” she murmured, unable to hide her disbelief.

“The one and only,” he confirmed, sweeping a low bow. “For those who don’t know me, I am Murphy, the one with the most incredible law. You might also know my sister, Karma. She couldn’t attend unfortunately. Apparently, some rebels in the Mideast needed to meet her. But I’m sure you’ll hear all about it in the news.”

“No politics, Murphy,” Eve chided with a wag of her finger. “You’re here to do a job.”

“Work.” His furry mouth drooped. “How depressing. I’m a god. I should be having fun.”

“How about causing mischief?”

His bearing straightened. “I’m good at doing that.” He held out his hand—er, paw. From out of thin air, a staff materialized, and more than a few gasps were heard in the room.

A glowing red, faceted crystal sat atop the gleaming ebony length of the rod. The guy dressed in the dog suit pretending to be Murphy lifted the staff and slammed it down hard. Even though he thumped it on carpet, the whole room vibrated. Her lips parted in an “oh” of surprise as a red wave pushed out from the crystal. The wavering red line undulated out in a widening ripple to encompass the entire room. It touched the attendees. They instantly froze, mouths open, voices silenced, hands caught midair.

The crowd in the room became paralyzed. Brigitte gasped and turned to run, but Fire clamped her to him. The red wave pulsed through her, a tingling, heated touch that didn’t hurt.

She could also still move. “What was that?”

Eve was the one to reply. “The techno geeks from the Sylica planet have a complicated name for it. I call it the memory disruptor. While under its influence, we can and will reshape the memories of those present.”

“Why am I not frozen by it like the others?” she asked.

“The metal in the cuffs and the hat disrupt the technology.” Eve touched the brim. “In wearing them, we ensure we do not lose our memories.”

“You’re serious.”

“Utterly. Congrats on your purple hunk by the way.”

A part of Brigitte still thought this was some kind elaborate joke, except the guys holding the chains turned and walked out of the ballroom, tugging the women behind them. A few dug in their heels, protesting.

“This isn’t funny anymore.”

“Hey, hold on a second. I’m not sure I want to do this.”

The refusal went unheeded, and the yank on the tether sent all those handcuffed stumbling forward.

“Um, Eve, I know you’re like really into this whole pretend abduction thing, but I think this has gone far enough.”

Robyn stood, the bobbing eyestalks distracting. “Maybe we should rethink this. I mean, is the price really worth it?”

“Vacation cruise on Venus,” Eve said. “All-inclusive, and you can bring hot hubby and the kids.”

“Sorry, ladies. Have a good trip.” Robyn sat down, but Cynthia stood.

“Aw, I don’t know if I want to stay now after seeing the guys. Why can’t I go?”

Zap!

Milly blew on the tip of the smoking gun that shot out a laser blast that sheared the horn off Cynthia’s crown. “Anyone else got a problem?”

None of the authors wearing the tinfoil objected any further.

“This is crazy,” Brigitte said.

Eve shrugged. “You’ll thank me for it later. Have a good trip. Be sure to visit Obsidian Market if you can. Their selection of delicacies is out of this world.”

As her purple pirate followed his friends, he tugged at his single prisoner. She braced her legs and yanked. Instead of pulling back, he leaned toward her, and before she could realize his intent, he’d tossed her over his shoulder again. His hand firmly claimed her ass.

Off he marched, and idiot that she was, she couldn’t help but think,
How hot!

As he exited, Brigitte heard Eve start talking in a singsong voice. “None of this is real. It was an elaborate hoax. Purple men aren’t real.”

Yeah, they weren’t. Like duh. No matter how authentic this one seemed, characters in books didn’t come to life. Murphy wasn’t a dog. Milly hadn’t shot a laser.

Nor did shiny portals exist in the coatroom.

“
P
ut me down
. Don’t you dare drag me through whatever that thing is.”

The female dared to complain about his abduction. Odd because, while her mouth uttered nonsense, her pheromones, perfuming the air around him, told another story.

He ignored her protest, just like his comrades ignored some of the weak attempts from their captives to pull away from the portal.

Futile gestures. Phyr had come to this barbarian planet to collect females for mating purposes on his planet—and credits. Lots and lots of credits, enough to buy the newest warp drive technology. Currently, his ship ran on the older version, and that was proving detrimental to his choice of employment. As an acquisition specialist, wanted in just about every galaxy, the ability to move quickly was paramount. That and the device would make him the envy of the other mercenaries he knew.

“I don’t want to be abducted.”

His reply? None. Why argue about the inevitable? She was coming with him to be auctioned off.

Initially, he’d balked at doing business with a barbarian Earthling, but the days he spent in the stocks in the yard of his mother’s home—a home he bought for her as a dutiful son—had made him understand that, despite the irritation of dealing with numerous wailing females, he needed to do his duty for his planet. And as his mother reminded as he baked in the midday sun, his action would bring lots of credits, not just to his account but also to his name.

“You want me to do something for the good of the planet?” He couldn’t help a moue of distaste.

“Imagine the accolades you’ll receive.”

“I can imagine the jeers of my comrades.”

“You seem to think this is a mission that involves only the good. You are going to the forbidden Barbarian planet of Earth. You will be abducting—”

“Abducting?” His brow arched. “They do not come willingly?”

“Of course not. They shall be captives. Unwilling passengers.”

“Wailing and whining females.”

“Females that will fetch a high price on the marriage market. There is a severe shortage of females on Aressotle. A dark market exists for females capable of procreating and making more warriors.”

“Still, I prefer acquisitions that can’t talk,” he reminded.

“What of goods that are capable of satisfying your baser needs during the voyage?”

His mother took pride in the fact that Phyr debauched his way from galaxy to galaxy. The only thing she didn’t approve of was his lack of interest in settling down with a female and providing her with progeny she could corrupt.

“
I deserve grandchildren.”

“Isn’t having me enough?”

A cold gaze perused him. “No.”

His mother’s insistence he mate didn’t sway his mind. Females existed to sate his carnal needs. Anything more than that was emasculating. He just wouldn’t mention that particular philosophy to Makl, who apparently had fought so many duels over people daring to comment on his mating that mothers now paid him to ignore their idiot sons.

But I don’t have to marry any of the women I procure.

Still, though, taking on a cargo of females, and barbarian ones at that with no clue how the universe worked? It took his mother all the skills she had, and because it was expected, he ranted and raved and cursed before he finally agreed. He also told his mother he respected and cared deeply for her. It made him laugh to think of the disgusted look on her face. For the insult, she rewarded him by shoving a bar of cleanser in his mouth.

But Phyr well knew the taste of soap. He’d earned it often enough growing up. His mother had raised him right, raised him to understand it was a man’s duty to rule a home. A mother’s duty to raise a strong son. The fact that they clashed often meant she bared her teeth in pride at having done it right and on her own. As for his pathetic father, he’d succumbed in a raid while Phyr still learned to walk and hold a sword at the same time.

Shameful. Phyr would never shame his ancestors and meet his demise at a tender age. Only the poorest warriors didn’t live to become grizzled veterans with scars.

Entering his ship, the female over his shoulder muttering a, “Holy frig, we’re on a spaceship,” he slapped at the console beside the transportation portal. The machine that tore a rip in space from his vessel to a set of coordinates planet side sucked at his power supply. But he preferred the space-time-rip option to the molecular disruptor technology. He’d seen a few mishaps with that where sometimes the molecules didn’t reassemble correctly.

Poor Huikl. No one ever did discover where his second eye had gone or where the stinger had come from.

Setting the female down, Phyr continued to ignore her protests. And, yes, he could understand them. His implanted transponder allowed him to understand all known languages in the universe, but it didn’t allow him to speak them. Until he injected the female with her own communication chip, attempting to speak to her would prove a waste of his time.

Although he did know a pleasant way to stop her vocalizing. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he yanked her to him and plastered his mouth to hers.

Such an odd sensation this pressing of lips, and not one he’d tried before his visit to Earth. Yet, when he’d spent some time watching the video display in the room she assigned him, he’d noted the use of lips and tongue to titillate Earth females.

A male unafraid to try new things, he tested his newfound knowledge on the woman he took as his own for the trip.

He slid his mouth over hers, reveling in the soft plushness of her lips. He sucked at the lower part, hearing the change in her heart rate.

Already he’d mastered the art of—

“Frukx!” He couldn’t help but curse as he pulled away from the female who’d bitten him. He scowled at her temerity, yet she looked utterly undaunted as she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.

“There will be no kissing, my purple pirate. I’m mad at you.”

And he was supposed to care? He snorted. If this female wished to deny herself the pleasure of his embrace, then that was her choice.

But what of my pleasure?
If she wouldn’t prove amenable, then there were other females to choose from.

He cast a gaze over their catch, an assortment of sizes and colors. They would fetch a good dowry price. They each had their own attractive points, such as the very tall yellow-haired one with the very white skin. Another had immense pillowy bosoms. The buttocks on the dark-skinned one would very much welcome a warrior in need of relief.

Oddly enough, as he catalogued all their positive features, it occurred to him none drew him quite like the one he’d found.

“Shall we decontaminate the females before or after we leave their orbit?” Zor asked.

“Before. No need to let their barbarian germs infiltrate the ship and possibly cause damage to some of our more delicate goods.”

As acquisition specialists, they constantly imported—sometimes not willingly—items of interest to the Obsidian market and their home world.

He tugged his female toward the exit from the transport bay. Possessing a more obstinate nature than he’d first suspected, she tried to dig in her heels and pulled against him.

Yank. She stumbled after him, recognizing, even if reluctantly, his superior strength. Surely it was her admiration at his greatness heating the skin of his back as she stared.

Modesty belonged to those who failed. Phyr always won.

The decontamination chamber could handle only groups of four at a time. Lacking patience, and not yet inclined to kill his cargo or his comrades to process things faster, he upended the still protesting female over his shoulder, a much more efficient mode of travel, and carried her to his quarters. His own bathing unit had a built-in decontamination feature, but first, he hit the storage unit and grabbed a sealed translation unit.

Only once he reached his quarters, largest on the ship, of course, did he set her on her feet again. He tore open the package with the chip implant, only to notice she tried to leave.

She slapped at the closed door. “Let me out.”

To go where? He’d ask her as soon as he could get her to understand his much more evolved method of speech.

Since he enjoyed the feel of her body against his, he pinned her against the door, hearing the rapid pants of her breath, sensing the undercurrent of fear but also tasting her excitement.

He held her prisoner with his lower body. She faced the door, which meant her buttocks pressed back against him. In one hand he held the implant, and the other he used to brush the hair from her nape. He knew some galactic travelers still preferred the outdated earpieces, not wanting a nanotech modification injected into their body. They feared the nanos would take over and control them.

Again, trepidation was for the weak. And fear of losing control for the less determined.

He pressed the head of the electronic syringe against her skin. She bucked and thrashed her body wildly against him. It made a male a little wild, too, hence why he pressed his open mouth against her nape and bit gently, not enough to break skin—never that. But with enough pressure, she calmed.

Phssst. The device injected the implant. She screeched, “Bastard! What did you just do to me?”

“I made it so your barbarian ears could understand evolved speech,” he claimed as he walked away from her and disposed of the spent unit.

“I can understand you.” The shock rang in her words.

“Did I not just explain that? Do not tell me I chose a simple-minded female? Then again, I guess it doesn’t matter how smart you are so long as you are an enthusiastic coital partner.”

“Excuse me? What the hell is a coital partner?”

He turned on her and smiled, a smile that had sent those in the Bergun galaxy, who’d thought to confront him after he killed their regent, running. Those lessons his mother forced him to take as a child in proper expression and intimidation had paid off. Not that he would thank her. That was her job. And he didn’t want to eat more soap.

“You will pleasure me sexually on our journey to my home world. You can thank me later, orally, for selecting you.”

Her eyes widened.

He waited for her gratitude. Perhaps even a sample of the oral skills she had. A seductive promise.

Instead, she laughed.