11. Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven
E lyse
“Get up assholes.” One of the guards wakes me from a deep sleep. When I glance up, I see four of them, weapons pointed at us.
Wrage rises, nude, makes sure I’m covered by the robe Ryone sent last night, and helps me from the bed. He left his one article of clothing, his pants, on the floor last night. In our hurry to make love, he left it too close to the puddle of blood, which oozed across the floor as we slept. It’s drenched now.
“Come.”
We follow orders, walking down the hallway sandwiched between them, two behind and two in front. The other prisoners watch, foregoing their usual catcalls. We’re headed toward the opening of the old mine, not the fighting cage.
I know as sure as the sky on Earth is blue that if I wasn’t here Wrage would make a move against them. But he won’t. He’ll use his last breath trying to protect me.
I’d forgotten how hot and brutal it was on the surface, but before we’re even above ground, I’m pelted with the red sand and assaulted by the blazing heat.
My heart is pounding—this can’t be good. Was Ryone so angry Wrage won last night that he wants to abandon any pretense of fairness and have his henchmen gun him down? In front of me?
Wrage’s arm is around my waist, I grab his other hand in mine and hold him tight, my teeth clamped in fear.
My shoulders relax a bit when the guards lead us up the mansion’s steps. At least they’re not lining us up for a firing squad.
Once we’re inside, Ryone orders from the top of the stairs, “Get them into the shower. There are clothes for them there. And you two lovers, don’t bother to look for weapons. I’ve had the room swept of anything you could use. Don’t dawdle, I want you dressed in ten minimas .”
We’re rushed through a sumptuous guest room on the main floor, and into the adjoining bath. It’s certainly finer than anything I’ve been in since I left Earth. Come to think of it, it’s nicer than anything I experienced on Earth.
It takes me a while to figure out how to turn on the spigot, and a little longer to adjust it to temperature. When I step under the pelting water and feel it sluice over me, wiping off a week of filthy grime, I allow myself to bask in the simple pleasure.
Wrage joins me. The enclosure’s big enough for four more. He quietly moans as he allows the water to wash over him. Less than twelve hours ago he was literally bathed in the blood of that behemoth.
“No dawdling!” Ryone’s voice scolds over a hidden speaker. I’m certain he’s watching, too. I’ve long since stopped caring about that.
After Wrage and I step out, we spend an extra minute toweling each other dry. What before used to be such a mundane part of my life is now a luxury I wish I had more time to indulge in.
The thought flashes through my head that we should be on our honeymoon. If life was fair, we’d be rolling out of bed in a few hours, ordering room service and taking a shower so we could go back to bed and begin another round of enjoying each others’ body.
As it stands, though, I hurry to the wall where there are two outfits hanging from hooks. Assuming mine is the flowery pattern, I sort through it, trying to picture what to do with all the flowy layers so I can put it on properly.
Finally deciding how it should look, I wrap it around me and find the wispy silken dress plunges between my breasts, the fabric lifting and supporting them. It flows past my knees, and hugs my curves in the best way.
I glance at Wrage, half expecting them to have equipped him with a striped prison uniform like back on Earth, but he’s been supplied with form-fitting black trousers, a royal blue shirt, and a fashionable matching black jacket that sweeps to mid-thigh. Dear Lord, this male couldn’t look more handsome.
The door is yanked open and one of the guards motions us out with the tip of his rifle.
We’re in the living room, right where we were a week ago shortly after we arrived on Rhoid. Sooma Ryone sweeps down the stairs as if he’s walking the catwalk at a fashion show.
I see a marena in a corner of the room. It wasn’t there last time, I certainly would have noticed if there had been space’s answer to a piano within fifty feet of me. Perhaps it was brought in when they delivered the T-Rex.
“I’m expecting guests. A rarity, I can assure you. Although they are not of the highest class, they certainly are more genteel company than anyone else on this godforsaken rock. I want you two to sing for them.
“You have one hoara to practice. Before you do, Elyse you will march back into the bathroom and use the cosmetics I so thoughtfully provided. Do . . . something with your hair.” Before I can move, he shouts, “Now.”
I scurry to the bathroom, which has already been cleaned of all remnants of our presence. I assume It has done it, since I’ve seen no other staff other than guards.
I spy the makeup on the counter. I’m well acquainted with what he’s provided. It was one of the only luxuries I was allowed since my abduction. Performers do better when they look good. And since my owners confiscated all my tips, they wanted me to look my best.
Ten minutes later, I’m made up and coiffed as I return to the living area. Wrage’s face beams with approval and pride.
“That havaché wasn’t ten times more powerful to me than other species,” he says, a small smile lighting his face for the first time in days. “It must have been a hundred times more powerful for me to have failed to notice you’re the most beautiful female in the galaxy.”
“Cut the drack! ” Ryone snaps.
I wink at Wrage, wishing I could tell him how good it feels to hear him say that, as well as to reassure him that he has certainly apologized enough by now.
As we practice, me sitting at the marena , Wrage at my side, the ground trembles beneath our feet more than once. Just as it did the day we arrived.
It is moving quickly, dusting every surface in the room even though it looked perfect before she began. Ryone has not only allowed my mate and I to dress, but has given his bed-slave some clothes, if you can call them that.
She’s wearing a see-through dress that hugs her body like a second skin. It runs from right above her areolas to just below her sex. When I say see-through, I mean it’s like shimmery plastic wrap. It actually sexualizes and objectifies her more than if she were nude.
When the next shake hits, It is a few feet from us. Her expression doesn’t fit the mild tremor we just experienced.
Ryone has retired to his room. I imagine it’s to somehow make his snakelike face more presentable to his new guests. Since he’s not here, I screw up the courage to whisper, “What’s happening?”
Her eyes dart to the guards as she moves, positioning her back to them. “It’s been getting worse for lunars . I’ve heard it whispered that the big one is coming.” Then she dusts her way to the far corner of the room.
The big one? A huge earthquake? Maybe the ground will open up and swallow our delightful host.
The household kicks into high gear as Ryone bellows orders. The ship with his guests has arrived, and everyone is dancing to his tune as his commands are barked with increasing frequency and decibels.
He sweeps through the room, barely glancing at Wrage and me as he says, “You wear slave collars. Nothing you say or do will make my guests help you in any way. Just sing. Entertain as well as you can with your pathetic, no-talent routine, and I might choose to let you live another day.”
The doorbell rings, and Wrage and I stay exactly as we are, like living statues.
We hear Ryone greeting the newcomers at the door, and then they enter the living room. There are three of them, two Primians, and a Cerulean. They’re all huge, faces on lockdown as if they’re not here for a social visit.
The Primians, with their wild tribal markings on their faces and bodies look fierce enough to strike fear into my heart. The Cerulean, with his royal blue swirling markings on his sky blue skin, is scanning the room like an army scout.
The word ‘pirates’ drifts to me. Looking at these three, the word definitely fits.
“Have a seat. I’d like to make the exchange, and then I’ve arranged musical entertainment. It’s seldom I get visitors to my little slice of the galaxy.”
“We’ve got little time,” the Primian who seems in charge replies. “We give you the goods, you give us the credits, and we ghost.”
His attention is caught as he notices Wrage and me in the corner.
“Show me the goods. I want to make sure the piece isn’t a forgery,” Ryone insists.
The head Primian stalks to the dining table, sets his box down, and opens it with a flourish exposing a scimitar. By the looks of it, it’s an antique.
“The Talwar of Oomesh,” the Primian says, a hush of reverence in his voice. “I personally lifted this from the Premier of Aeon’s Valdesh province castle at your request. Feel free to inspect.”
He stands back. All three pirates are standing, backs to each other, hands on laser pistols. Eight of Ryone’s males are here, all well-armed as well. I always used to wonder when watching TV programs about drug deals how anyone managed to walk away alive. This is the dicey moment where everything can come unglued.
Wrage senses the tension and subtly steps in front of me, a living shield in case laser bursts start flying.
Ryone first inspects the weapon from afar, then walks forward and lifts it with respect. He steps back and begins swinging it through the air. The Cerulean doesn’t take his eyes from the male. Every muscle in his body is hard and ready to strike.
Then Ryone gets out a magnifier and meticulously examines the weapon.
“The maker’s seal is on the hilt,” the pirate informs him, his jaw tight as he warily watches the guards.
Long minutes later, Ryone seems happy and satisfied. Without being asked, he hands over the credits. The pirate checks the authenticity of the money, and the transaction seems complete.
“Thantose, I insist,” Ryone says, “stay for one song and a shot of the finest Sillerian whiskey.”
The three pirates are still standing back to back. They reluctantly agree, and Ryone claps his hands as if Wrage and I are his dancing monkeys. We sing as instructed.
Thantose keeps darting his eyes at me. I know the look. It happens right before the soon-to-be owner approaches the soon-to-be former owner about a purchase. As awful as it is here, I don’t want to be separated from Wrage.
“She’s human?” he asks. “They’re illegal.”
Shit. I feel a heavy ball in the pit of my stomach. I’d hoped I was reading him wrong.
“She’s Morganian and not for sale. It’s fascinating that a pirate who steals for a living has the balls to scold me about owning an illegal.”
Thantose remains impassive even as his eyes flick up and down, assessing me.
Our song is over and we don’t start another, we’re both totally focused on the exchange occurring across the room, the males are acting as if we’re not sentient beings.
I feel another rumble under my feet; it's bigger than the ones I’ve felt before. As soon as this one stops, another starts, then another and another. The fine art glass is tinkling, the chandeliers are shaking, and Ryone looks scared.
“Sir,” one of his guards says as he runs into the room, “the males in the pits are using this as a distraction. They’re trying to escape.”
“Catali and Gron stay here. Everyone else hurry to the pits.”
The ground is trembling almost constantly now. With so many guards out of the room, these are the best odds we’ll ever have. There are the two guards and Ryone. And the three pirates. God knows what they’ll do when we make a break for it.
At the next quake, Wrage grabs my wrist and pulls me toward Ryone. Although surging toward our captor seems counterintuitive, I follow, trusting Wrage’s instincts implicitly. Wrage releases my hand, nudging me toward the front door, as he lunges for the sword while Ryone is distracted.
At the doorway, I spin to watch what unfolds. Wrage is magnificent as he hefts the sword and pivots. In one gruesome, graceful movement he swings the sword with all his might and separates the snake’s black head from his body.
Hunching my shoulders and squeezing my eyes shut, I can’t control my visceral reaction to the wet thud his head makes as it falls to the white marble floor, then rolls a few feet. The guards’ laser weapons are trained on Wrage as they order him to stand down.
It would be the work of a moment for him to grab Thantose, the pirate closest to him, to use as a shield, but he doesn’t—he has too much honor. He stands back when he sees one of the guards’ weapons is aimed at me.
“I surrender,” he says as he motions to lay his weapon down. “I’ll surrender if you let her go free.”
“Too bad, asshole,” one of them snarls. “Neither of you deserve to live—”
His sentence is cut off as the Cerulean slices both guards in two with his laser.
“Nice job, Sextus,” Thantose says. “Let’s bounce before this planet disintegrates.” He lifts his eyebrow and moves toward the door. “Want a ride?” he asks over his shoulder granting us a jaunty, Johnny Depp smile.
Holy. Shit. These nice pirates are going to take us off this cursed planet? Our first piece of luck since our unholy union wound up being the best thing that ever happened to me.
Wrage lifts Ryone’s lifeless arm, uses his wrist-comm to deactivate our collars, and removes our collars and tosses them on the headless body.
Right after we hurry down the steps of the mansion, the earthquake hits. It’s not like the little temblors that have been shaking the planet since we arrived. This isn’t a two on the Richter scale that made the chandelier shake. This one shudders so long and hard I fall to the ground.
When Wrage grabs my wrist and pulls me up, I turn my head to see the mansion has fractured in two. I can see into the living room through the crack. I don’t see It and wonder if we can go back for her.
“It!” I scream. “It!”
“Run!” Wrage thunders.
With no time to look for It, all of us scramble as the soil literally opens up next to us and I can see at least fifty feet down into the new chasm.
It’s only now I realize that these are not seismic phenomena. I see wiggling movement under the crust of the ground. When I was too young to know that ringworms weren’t worms at all, I used to imagine worms sliding around under someone’s skin—wiggling and writhing so you could see their movement under the flesh.
That’s what it looks like under the ground here, only the things wiggling under the soil are a thousand times bigger than what I’d imagined.
As we run past the opening to the mine, I see the ground open, an enormous worm-like creature jump up, grab a miner into its gaping saw-toothed maw, and slip back down into its hole.
Wrage doesn’t have to yell at me to run. I’m going as fast as my legs will carry me.
It seems nowhere is safe, there’s no good place to run, but Wrage and I are following the pirates who, I hope, are on the way to their ship.
The miners are scattering, fleeing in different directions. Occasionally their screams pierce the air. The activity under our feet slows as the sky begins to darken behind the fiercely blowing red sand.
Several miles ago Wrage lifted me piggyback style and has been carrying me since then. Now that things have quieted, he slides my feet to the ground as we all walk. The worst seems over, at least for the moment.
All three pirates are looking at their wrist-comms, getting updates from people on the ship.
“My mate Tawny said they had to leave, they’re circling above us. The ground was unsteady under the Ataraxia ,” the third male says. As we were on the run we attempted introductions. His name is Devolose, Thantose the captain is his cousin.
“My mate Lexa did research,” Sextus, the blue Cerulean says. “They’re called Rhoid Worms. It’s one of the reasons this shithole planet has never been homesteaded. They’re born in cycles. In birthing years, huge writhing balls of them are born and grow. When they’re strong enough, they maraud across the planet, wreaking havoc, and puncturing the surface to eat anything with meat.”
As if to punctuate the thought, a scream slices through the night causing the hackles to rise up on my neck.
“We’re on thick rock,” Wrage points out, stopping and pointing to the black igneous formation under our feet. “I believe we’ll be safe here until your ship comes. You were serious, right? You’re offering us a ticket off this rock?”
“Yes. Our mates are all human. If we left your human mate here we wouldn’t be allowed back into our beds for lunars , maybe annums .” Thantose says.
“How’d you know I’m human?” I ask.
“You sang in Earther. I listen to my lovely mate talk all day every day. I'm familiar enough with the language to know it when I hear it.”
I sag against Wrage, feeling a ray of hope for the first time in what feels like forever.
“Marcus the pilot says we need to find shelter. A sandstorm’s coming and they can’t land until it’s over,” Thantose says just as the already brutal wind kicks up a notch.
Wrage lifts me onto his back and we hurry forward looking for shelter. It doesn’t look promising; we can’t see anything but flat land and blowing sand.
The soil begins rumbling again, the vibrations becoming louder which signals the worms’ approach. We’re all running, Wrage and I at the rear because my dear mate is carrying me.
“Put me down,” I scream at him, hoping my voice carried over the howling wind. In answer, he hikes me higher, holds me stronger, and runs faster.
Looking over my shoulder I see one zooming toward us under the crust of the soil. He’s not writhing like they seem to do, he’s coming in a straight line.
“Wrage! We don’t both need to die. Put me down!”
He doesn’t argue, just somehow reaches deep inside himself and finds a way to put on even more speed.
At this exact moment, the animal breaks through the surface. It's just a cylindrical muscle with a mouth at the end. A mouth full of razor-sharp teeth that’s snapping at us as it pushes itself toward us.
Wrage finds another gear and somehow runs even faster, avoiding the beast just as the deadly thing’s teeth were inches from my ass.
It loses steam and slides back into the pit it came from. Wrage keeps running for long minutes until it seems we’re on stone again and, at least for a moment, protected from the creatures.
We’ve slowed and are loping now, Wrage is still panting, trying to regain his breath.
My attention must have wandered, because all of a sudden Wrage’s forward motion stops. It’s almost full dark now, the wind is gale force. Many hours ago, my exposed skin became numb to the constant blowing sand that felt like needles endlessly piercing my skin.
The males are all looking ahead, but I don’t think human eyesight is as good as other races. I see nothing. What I notice, though, is that every one of them are bowed up, all of them clutching their weapons.
After we left the mansion, Wrage stuck the sword into his waistband, slicing a hole through his trousers with the point. It’s been clanging against my shin for miles. It’s in his hand now, though, as he slides me onto the ground behind him.
“Stay behind me, Love. Stay out of the fray.”
“What do you see?” I ask, still unable to see anything in the miasma in front of us.
“Big male. I see one, there might be more.”
Finally, I can make out what the others are seeing. The man is huge and wearing nothing but a loincloth. He kind of reminds me of Shrek. He’s big and green and . . . dear God, he’s a mountain. His eyes are shining chartreuse, just like the green salt.
“Look,” Sextus says. “Human?”
Squinting, I can see a form at his side. She’s standing behind him and so much smaller than the green male it’s no wonder none of us noticed her at first. We were all assessing the obvious threat.
“Hello,” she calls. I don’t think my subdural translator needed to engage for that. It was in English.
“Hello,” I call back.
“Human?” she asks, incredulous.
“Elyse from New Jersey,” I say.
“K. J. from Illinois,” she replies and takes a step toward us.
“Stop!” I say before she comes an inch closer. “Who’s he?”
“Slag. A friend. Harmless. He’s big and strong, but he’s kind. A helper. He’s the one who came to help you, but he knew he’d need my help to smooth the way.”
“How are you going to help us?” Thantose asks, wary.
“Do you need shelter?”“Yes, until the weather dies down enough for my ship to pick us up.”
“We can show you to our small cave. It rests on stone and is surrounded by stone. You’re welcome to stay if you leave your weapons outside.”
She’s a pretty woman, maybe mid-twenties, though it’s hard to tell in space. Most of us haven’t been treated kindly and that tends to speed the ageing process. But it’s Slag I’m assessing. Is he safe? Is this a trap? Not that KJ’s lying, but how would she know if he has nefarious plans?
“How do you know this guy?” I ask.
“I’ve known him for about a month. He doesn’t speak, but he’s the kindest male I’ve ever known and he’s saved my life a dozen times. You can trust him with your life,” she says as she inches closer to him.
“We are trusting him with our lives,” I whisper, certain my voice is low enough not to carry to her through the wind.
I startle, stepping closer to Wrage as Slag motions to KJ to stay where she is and stomps toward us. The males all raise their weapons, but he shoulders his way past the armed pirates and walks past Wrage and me to approach something behind us. He reaches out his hand, then pulls It out of the darkness and back toward our little group.
We’ve been running for hours. She must have been behind us the whole time. Was she too afraid to join us? Poor thing. Dear God, Sooma Ryone abused her mercilessly.
Slag pulls her back to KJ. He may not speak, but he wanted to protect the tiny four-armed female. That one kind act was all I needed to witness to trust the huge male.
We hear a rumble far off to our left. If the worms are back on the hunt, we need shelter and we need it right the fuck now.
“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m going with Slag and KJ,” I say as I cross the distance toward the two females and the mountain of flesh with glowing green eyes.
Minutes later, we’re all safely ensconced in their small cave. This doesn’t look like it was ever a mine, and thankfully, there are no green sparkles in the walls. For once we’re away from the irradiated green salt.
We have a respite from the blowing sand, and it’s noticeably cooler in here. Slag seems to sense our fear and distrust and is about to sit on the floor with his back pressed against the farthest wall when KJ shakes her head and makes sure he gets the one little bed made of braided vines. She acts like a concerned mate.
Slag may be huge and green and terrifying, but somehow I sense his calm nature and decide I’m safe.
We hear the underground worms outside our little safety zone. It’s like they’re butting their rounded heads against the very stone that protects us, trying to pound their way through.
“Wraiths,” It says.
“What?”
“Master . . . Sooma Ryone called them wraiths. Said they’re always writhing underground, but every seven annums they mature and rise up and travel the planet looking to feed. He said they’re relentless. He thought they were coming next annum . He’d planned to be off-planet by then, after he’d made his fortune.
“He threatened me with them. Said if I didn’t do better he’d leave me here to be eaten.”
“The fucker’s dead,” Thantose says with feeling. “My mate was treated badly by males like him. I’m glad Wrage killed him, just wish it had been me.”
“What’s your name?” I ask quietly. “We can’t call you . . . the other name one more time.”
Her gaze dips shyly to the ground as she says, “Allura.”
I’ll bet it’s been a while since anyone has called her that. “Welcome, Allura. Allura’s a beautiful name.” I turn to Thantose and ask, “Is Allura welcome aboard your ship?”
“Absolutely. Allura, you’ll be safe aboard. We have three females there who will be happy to have you.”
Every head in the cave snaps toward the entrance when the wraiths increase their scuffling and pounding.
“And us, Captain?” KJ asks. “Are we welcome?”
The calm, happy lines of Thantose’s face evaporate; his muscles turn harder as he looks at Slag.
Slag might not speak, but he seems to hear and understand perfectly. He shakes his head and motions his hand toward KJ. His meaning is clear—‘You go, I’ll stay.’
“He’s been like this since you’ve known him?” Thantose asks.
“By ‘like this’ you mean kind? Protective? Putting my needs ahead of his? Yes, yes, and yes.” KJ spears Thantose with her gaze. “Please take us both with you, Captain. I’ll die here, and I can’t leave him on this planet alone. He’s done too much to help me.”
“Yes. You’re all coming aboard. We have a brig and I’ll put anyone in it who threatens the safety of my ship or her crew. Clear?”
We all nod. I’ve been leaning against the firm wall of Wrage’s chest, his arms around my waist as he’s been gently rocking me. Both of us are just so happy to be alive and together and have a ticket off this miserable planet.
“Marcus,” Thantose barks into his wrist-comm, “when can you get us off this fucking planet?” He turns to us while he awaits an answer and winks as he says, “There’s something I love about your Earther curse word.”
“ I ’m nervous,” I tell Wrage for the tenth time as we stand in the gangway, getting ready to board the Devil’s Playground .
“Don’t be, Love. I’ve spent a decade with many of the males on the ship. You spent time with them the day of the balfour rides. They’re good males—they gave me drack for heckling you that first night when you sang. They can be rough, you saw that too, but they’d die for me. We’re brothers.
“We’ll be safe with them while we sort out what’s next for us. The females there will love you. You’ll get along just as well with them as you have the females on Thantose’s ship.”
The last week has dragged slowly. After we were welcomed aboard the cleanest pirate ship in the galaxy, we met the nicest bunch of pirates in the galaxy. It was fascinating to see the human women who belonged to the males I spent the longest day of my life with.
All those strong, take-no-prisoners males became besotted puppies when reunited with their loving mates. It warmed my heart to see so much love in such an unlikely place.
What are the odds that in the wild reaches of space we happened upon friends of friends? It turns out the pirates met many of the gladiators a while back. I’m told things were tense at the time, but they’ve since worked out their differences. Devolose was originally on the gladiator ship until he was reunited with his cousin, Thantose.
Captain Thantose has been more than happy to reconnect us with the band of gladiators we’re going to live with. We’re docking with them now.
Glancing at Wrage, I think about the unlikely odds that brought us together as well. We’re an improbable pair, especially since we were the harshest enemies when we met. It’s hard to believe that was less than a month ago.
“You sure you don’t want to stay with us?” Thantose asks for the tenth time. “Any male who can win over a million credits at the klempto table is welcome aboard my ship any time.” There’s something about this male, whose primitive markings could strike fear into your heart, that is totally endearing. Maybe it’s his piratical smile, or his frequent winks that make you feel like his best friend.
“No,” Wrage answers. “I think our place is with the males I fought alongside at my ludus . But I do want to thank you for helping me get a new credits card. You sure you don’t want payment for all your help?”
“No. I consider it a win that I was paid for the sword and still have it in my possession to sell again. Being there to watch you separate that snake’s head from his body was a bonus.”
I squeeze my mate’s hand as KJ and Slag join us in the crowded space.
“We came to say goodbye and wish you well,” she says. “Thantose invited us to stay here, and we think it’s a good choice.”
There’s a medic on board the ship, Seneca, who has treated all four of us for radiation poisoning. Wrage, KJ, and I are better. Slag doesn’t seem to be responding to the treatments. He was in the mine a long time.
I don’t really know what KJ’s relationship is with Slag—the male doesn’t speak—but they sleep in the same cabin. I’m certainly in no position to judge. I found my mate under the most unlikely circumstances.
Allura slips into the small area.
“You’re sure you want to stay with the pirates?” I ask her for the twentieth time.
Sidling over to me, the Mordite beauty almost whispers, “I feel safe here. Safer than I’ve felt in a long time. The males are respectful and the females have adopted me. I think the gladiator ships would feel too big, too . . . hectic. I’m going to stay here.”
I ease closer so as not to spook her, then give her a side hug. “You stay in touch, Allura. Maybe we’ll meet again.”
She grants me a shy smile.
The floor shifts under our feet as we connect to the Devil’s Playground . It’s one of two ships in what we’re referring to as the ‘Galaxy Gladiators’ Fleet’. I’m going to be living in the fast lane from here on out—a bunch of escaped gladiators and Earth women all running from the law.
I certainly didn’t sign on for this. I was content with my life when I laid down in my bed the night before my abduction. I’d just finished a great set at the Lincoln room in the poshest hotel in town. After spending four years in hell, though, I paid for my ticket to paradise.
I glance up at my male, my mate, and wink. It’s all going to work out.