Chapter 3
Yahn
My date was a human woman old enough to have watched the birth of interstellar travel, judging by the deep lines carving valleys into her powdered face. Ruth—as she'd introduced herself while gripping my forearm with surprising strength—was now dragging me toward our dining table.
All around us, guests danced and celebrated the success of the auction in the main ballroom, and I scanned the crowd, spotting Dracoi with a young woman in a bright yellow gown.
I didn't have time to speak to him as Ruth hauled me through a door.
Another nearby ballroom was arranged with romance in mind, with tables tucked into private alcoves.
The rest of the crew had been snatched up by the time I went on stage, and I wasn't entirely sure where anyone was, though I'd seen Aano leave with a pale-skinned human woman in a lavender gown.
"Come along, handsome," Ruth chirped, her voice a strange mixture of grandmotherly warmth and predatory intent. "I've got the best table reserved. It cost me an extra five thousand credits, but what's money when you're having fun with a sexy alien?"
She slapped my ass, and I let out an unmanly yelp. On the dance floor, Lorxo swept by in the arms of a beautiful young man with curly hair. How did everyone else end up with... not Ruth?
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a flash of blue, and my brain shifted into high alert. There were still Tholkons chasing us, and that was enough to convince me to follow Ruth.
The dining room was set up with a series of little dining alcoves, each set up with romantic lighting and a beautiful table setting.
Ruth tugged harder, nearly dislocating my shoulder as she pulled me towards a corner set up with a glossy black table and two plush chairs.
A sliding privacy screen made the space all the more intimate.
The Every Child Foundation certainly knew how to cater to their wealthy donors' desires.
"Here we are!" Ruth announced, releasing my arm to slide the screen shut with a theatrical flourish. "I love that they offer privacy. You never know what might happen."
I maintained my cover smile. "Indeed not, ma'am."
"Oh, call me Ruth, darling. 'Ma'am' makes me feel ancient." She plopped herself down on the plush seat with a happy sigh.
"Ruth it is," I agreed, sliding into the chair opposite hers. My tail curled around the back of the chair, twitching with irritation. Araced tails were expressive things, and mine had nearly blown my cover more than once, but Ruth didn’t seem to notice.
A server droid glided into our alcove, its polished chrome body reflecting the ambient light. "Good evening. May I offer you refreshments to begin your private dining experience?"
"Brandy. The Tholkon Blue Label. Double," Ruth said without hesitation. "And whatever my lovely companion desires." She gave me a wink that was probably meant to be seductive but reminded me of my great-aunt having a facial tic.
"Just water," I said, earning a disappointed look from Ruth. "For now," I added quickly. "Need to stay... hydrated."
"Wise choice," she purred, leaning closer. The scent of expensive perfume mixed with something medicinal and uniquely human-elderly filled my nostrils. "You'll need your stamina."
The droid, blessedly oblivious to the innuendo, glided away.
I shifted, using the moment to case the alcove.
Privacy doors, but no lock. There was some level of soundproofing, judging by the way the gala's music dimmed when the doors closed.
I counted three visible security cameras—the Every Child Foundation wasn't taking chances with their wealthy donors, and they'd been clear about the rules during the auction.
We weren't expected to do more than socialize.
"So," Ruth said, "tell me about yourself, gorgeous. I've always had a thing for extraterrestrials. My third husband was Chokreini. Telepathic in bed." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "What planet are you from?"
"I’m Araced, so I grew up on Arec, on the outer rim. Nothing as exciting as telepathy, I'm afraid."
"Oh, but I've heard things about Araced men," Ruth continued, undeterred. "That prehensile tail..." Her eyes darted behind me with undisguised interest.
Before I could respond, the server droid returned with our drinks and a plate of appetizers—tiny, intricate arrangements that probably cost more than a month's salary and wouldn't satisfy a child's appetite. Ruth grabbed her brandy and took a deep swallow, sighing with pleasure.
"So," she said, leaning forward to display an alarming amount of wrinkled cleavage, "when do we get to the strip show part?"
I nearly choked on my water. "I beg your pardon?"
"The strip show, darling." Ruth waved her free hand impatiently. "I paid good money for the full bachelor experience. The brochure mentioned 'entertainment at the buyer's discretion.'" She took another generous swig of her brandy, emptying half the glass.
My mind raced through the briefing details Aano had given us.
Nothing had been mentioned about stripping.
“I believe you're mistaken. Anything beyond dinner is at the discretion of the participants,” I said carefully, watching Ruth drain her glass and gesture impatiently to the server droid for another. "Both participants."
"Oh, that’s just something they say," she insisted, her words already taking on a slight slur.
"Last year, I bought a lovely Zangrel. Built like a mountain, he was.
Took off everything but those little shorts.
He had such a nice ass." She sighed dramatically, and I blinked. I’d never met someone who was both grandmotherly and unbelievably horny. It was an… interesting experience.
The droid delivered Ruth's second brandy with efficient silence. I eyed the glass with mounting concern. Human tolerance for Tholkon Blue Label was notoriously low. One was enough to make most humans tipsy. Two in quick succession...
"So," Ruth continued, raising her glass in a toast, "to new friendships and naked aliens."
I clinked my water glass against hers, maintaining my smile. "To new friendships, certainly." I needed to redirect this conversation fast. "You mentioned a third husband. How many have you had?"
Ruth's face lit up at the question. "Five!
Or was it six?" She giggled, taking another deep swallow.
"I lose track. There was Georgie—boring but loaded.
Then Xan'tho—four arms, you know." She wiggled her fingers suggestively.
"Henrik, who was human, came next, then the Chokreini—Valev was his name.
Beautiful man, terrible snorer." She waved dismissively, nearly spilling her drink. "Most of them are dead by now."
“You killed them?” I gasped before I could stop myself.
Ruth cackled, taking another swig of her drink. “I considered it, believe me, especially with Henrik. He was a cheating womanizer. But no, I’m 85, which means they’re all dead by natural causes.”
Eighty-five? I did a quick mental calculation from Earth years into Arec years, then wondered what the human lifespan was… and why her libido was still active.
"I'm worth seventeen billion credits," she announced proudly, her voice rising enough that I glanced nervously at the privacy doors.
"Could buy and sell this whole foundation if I wanted to.
" She leaned in conspiratorially, her breath hot and brandy-scented against my ear. "But I just come for the pretty boys. Don’t worry, I don’t expect sex — hell, I'd probably throw out a hip — I’m just living my best life, you know? And I enjoy looking."
My tail twitched again, this time in genuine amusement. There was something refreshingly honest about Ruth's lecherous intentions, at least.
"Now," she continued, poking my chest with a bejeweled finger, "when do those clothes come off? I'm not getting any younger here."
"Perhaps after dinner?" I suggested, looking for any diversion.
Ruth's eyes widened with delight. "Ooh, you're a tease." She drained her second glass and immediately ordered a third when the droid appeared to check on us.
By the time the main course arrived—some kind of artisanal pasta dish—Ruth had finished her third double brandy and was slurring her words noticeably, and her flirtation had escalated.
"Y'know what I like about you alien types?
" she asked, stabbing at her pasta and missing completely.
"You're not... not... prejudiced against age.
Human men, they just want young things. But you...
" She pointed her fork at me, dropping a piece of pasta onto the table.
"You appreciate a woman with experience. "
I nodded noncommittally, watching as she tilted dangerously to one side before righting herself. "Perhaps you should slow down on the brandy, Ruth."
"Nonsense!" she declared, raising her glass again. "I can hold my liquor better than any—"
That was as far as she got before her eyes rolled back and she face-planted directly into her pasta. The impact made a soft, wet sound as her forehead connected with the sauce-covered noodles.
I froze, momentarily startled despite years of training for unexpected situations. Ruth remained motionless for several seconds before a soft snore emanated from the pasta.
"Ruth?" I poked her shoulder gently. Nothing but more snoring.
I sat back, considering my options. Ruth was supposed to be my exit strategy, but how would an unconscious woman get me to her shuttle?
A shadow passed by outside our booth, and I reached into my pocket and fingered the drive I'd been carrying since everything went to shit.
I needed to find Aano. After a minute of deliberation, I carefully extracted myself from the booth and peeked out through the privacy doors.
A staff member in the foundation's distinctive uniform was passing by, and I waved to catch his attention.
"Excuse me," I said quietly. "I seem to have a situation."