Kate and the Kraken: A SciFi Alien Romance (Alien Abduction Book 11) Read online

  “You think we could just beam back home?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I think we’re still close.”

  “Why?”

  Kate gestured at the empty cage next to hers. “I’m afraid they’re looking for someone else.”

  As if in answer to her words, a guard appeared. A stretcher floated behind him, another woman dressed in white strapped to the surface. He paused outside the empty cage, and Kate watched as he pressed a small black oval into the woman’s ear canal, then unfastened the straps and dumped her body on the floor of the cage.

  He looked down at her, then over to Kate and Mary, and grinned. It was not a pleasant expression.

  “Not a bad haul. The three of you are going to make us a nice little profit.”

  “You can’t do this,” Kate said urgently. “We’re people. We have lives. You can’t just sell us.”

  “Why not?” He shrugged. “There’s quite an underground market for human slaves. Apparently, you’re very fuckable.”

  “Which is why we should have taken more,” Eshak said as he came to join the first guard.

  “You know we can’t afford to attract attention. The new Emperor has the Royal Fleet monitoring communications on this planet. Better to be discreet. Then we can return whenever we want.”

  “I say it’s better to be bold. Fill up the ship, make a lot of credits, and retire.” Eshak ran his eyes over the unconscious woman and licked his lips. “And if we took more, we could keep one for ourselves.”

  Kate shuddered. As appalling as she found the thought of being sold as a slave, the thought of being in the hands of someone as brutal as Eshak was just as bad.

  “I hope this Royal Fleet locks you all up,” she snapped.

  Eshak reached through the bars with shocking speed, grabbing her dress and slamming her into the bars hard enough to knock the air out of her lungs. “You’d better hope not, human. They’re just as likely to throw you in prison for being on this ship. Or use you themselves.”

  The other guard gave him an odd look, then tugged Eshak away from the bars. “Come on. The captain wants to go over the inventory and decide on the best markets. It’s a chance for you to tell him he’s all wrong,” he added sardonically.

  Eshak actually seemed to flinch. “I’ll pick my time,” he muttered.

  “Yeah, right.”

  The two of them disappeared down the corridor as Kate rubbed her aching chest.

  “Are you all right?” Mary whispered.

  “Just bruised. I never thought I would be grateful to be inside this cage, but at least he couldn’t—” She broke off as she realized that something had changed. “Can you feel that?”

  “Feel what?”

  “The vibration. I think the ship is moving.” She saw Mary’s face pale as the other woman reached the same conclusion. “We’re leaving Earth.”

  They sat in horrified silence as Kate let the foil flutter to the floor. She might possibly have been able to operate a transporter, but there was no way she could pilot a spaceship. Everything she had worked for was slipping away and she was powerless to stop it.

  A harsh groan disrupted her gloom.

  “Where the fuck am I?” The new woman sat up, rubbing her head. A stunning redhead, she glared fiercely at both of them. “And who the fuck are you?”

  “Fellow captives,” Kate said dryly.

  “The headache doesn’t last long.” Mary gave the newcomer her usual cheerful smile.

  “Aren’t you a ray of fucking sunshine,” the woman muttered, then sighed. “I’m sorry. I’ve been having a bad week. A bad year, for that matter.”

  “That’s all right,” Mary said immediately. “Being kidnapped by aliens is enough to make anyone grouchy.”

  “Aliens?”

  Her disbelief was clear, and Kate gestured at the other cages. “Take a look around.”

  “Fuck. I guess this week can get worse after all.” A reluctant smile crossed her face. “I’m Lily, fellow captives.”

  It turned out that Lily ran a beach bar only one town away from Kate’s lab. She’d been taken when she left the bar late at night.

  “I had to close because I fired my bartender last week.” Lily scowled. “Cheating bastard.”

  “I assume you had more than a professional relationship?” Kate asked dryly.

  “Yeah. I know better, but man, did he look good naked.”

  She sighed wistfully, and Kate did her best to hide her skepticism. She’d never found the male body particularly aesthetically pleasing in real life.

  Mary’s eyes were as big as saucers. “I can’t believe he cheated on you. You’re beautiful!”

  Lily grinned. “Thanks, sweetie. I just have shit taste in men.”

  “Me too,” Mary said softly, a troubled look crossing her face before she smiled again. “What about you, Kate?”

  She shrugged uncomfortably. “I don’t really have time to date. But I’m sure if I did, the men would suck.”

  When the other two women laughed, she felt an unexpected sense of kinship. Mary had been right—this was better than being on her own.

  The days settled into a monotonous routine, with little to differentiate them other than the regular feedings. Yakshi continued to come by periodically on his inspection rounds. He always gave Mary a treat, although he showed no interest in either Kate or Lily.

  “I must be losing my appeal,” Lily drawled after Yakshi dropped another bar in Mary’s feed bowl before he hurried away.

  “Maybe you should be a little nicer,” Mary said, as she broke up the bar and passed them each a piece.

  “In my experience, men only think one thing is nice, and I’m not prepared to go that far.”

  “Yakshi’s not like that,” Mary protested.

  Lily let it drop in the face of Mary’s distress, but she gave Kate a skeptical look. Kate suspected that Lily was quite right about Yakshi’s intentions, even if he was only treating Mary like a cute little pet right now.

  Kate estimated that they had been on board for approximately two weeks when Eshak suddenly appeared in front of her cage, unlocking it and dragging her out despite her panicked protests.

  And now here she was, bobbing along in an alien ocean like a letter in a bottle. Alone. Her eyes unexpectedly filled with tears, but she refused to let them fall. She wasn’t the type of woman who cried, and now was not the time to start. All she could do was hope that her friends’ pods had landed safely, then do everything she could to find them.

  Friends. It was almost as foreign a concept as aliens. She had been an awkward, gifted child—too smart for her own good, her dad used to say—and she had never been particularly close to anyone. But being confined, half-naked, in adjoining cages had created an unexpected bond. With little to do other than talk, she knew the other women better than she had ever known anyone.

  Please let them be okay, she thought.

  While she didn’t worry as much about Lily—the fiery, determined redhead was a force to be reckoned with—Mary’s innocent, optimistic nature would make her an easy target. Kate only hoped that Yakshi had been the one to take her to her pod.

  But worrying about her friends wasn’t going to help her escape the pod, and she had an uneasy feeling that time was not on her side. A small red light next to the door blinked rhythmically, and she remembered Yakshi’s words about picking her up later. A tracking beacon of some kind? She most definitely did not want to be here when they returned.

  At least her hands were free. The position was somewhat awkward, but she managed to reach the closure on the head restraint and gradually worked it open. Once she could move her head, it was easier to see the remaining fastenings and she opened them much faster. As she freed the last one, a large wave picked up the pod and slammed it down again, knocking her to the ground.

  While she had been wrestling with the restraints, the sky had darkened, the two suns disappearing behind heavy clouds. Another wave caught the pod, and her stomach dropp
ed as it rolled down the steep slope into the trough. Despite her feeling of urgency, if the storm was going to get worse, she would be better off staying safely in the pod until it passed.

  That was when the first drop of water trickled through the seal around the door.

  Chapter Three

  “Warden Pulata is waiting, Prince A’tai,” Uauna murmured, coughing discreetly.

  “What?” A’tai frowned, looking up from his desk. From the expression on his valet’s face, it wasn’t the first time he had spoken. “Can’t it wait? I’ve just reached the most fascinating section on the influence of Namoan culture on the shipping routes between Kapenta and—”

  “No doubt a very important factor at that time,” Warden Pulata agreed, stepping into A’tai’s study. “However, things have changed in the past two thousand years, and I believe the condition of the algae farms of Ataian is somewhat more urgent.”

  The presumption of the older male grated on A’tai’s nerves, but Pulata was a dedicated House retainer. Despite his lack of respect, A’tai was quite sure he had the best interests of the House at heart. He sighed and focused on Pulata.

  “There is no improvement?”

  “We’ve lost another five percent over the past quarter.” Pulata was Warden of the southern reaches of Maulimu territory, including the algae farms that were a primary source of trade. He took his responsibilities very seriously.

  “But the remaining beds are still healthy and strong?”

  “Yes,” Pulata admitted.

  “Then I am not sure why you believe this is so urgent.”

  “Because we have no answer as to why it occurs, and the damage continues to spread.”

  “It is still within the normal variations in yield, is it not?”

  Pulata frowned. “Historically, yes. But not since we increased the efficacy of the nutrient mix. I really believe it would be beneficial for you to visit Ataian and see the damage for yourself.”

  A’tai swung his chair around to look out the open window at the gentle green waves of the ocean. They called to him, and he was tempted to agree to the journey. Ataian was one of his favorite places, and he would be free to explore the waters and pursue his research without any interruptions. But there were two upcoming meetings of the Historical Society, and his mother had informed him that his presence would be required at a banquet later this month. Which was almost enough to sway him into going, but she was invariably correct about these matters.

  “This is not a convenient time for the trip,” he said, turning back to face Pulata. “Perhaps later in the season.”

  “But, sire…”

  “I will take your concerns under advisement.”

  “As your Warden, I really must insist—”

  A’tai’s patience ran out. He rose over the other male, allowing himself to tower just a little bit. “It is not your place to insist. I am Prince of House Maulimu. I have said that I will consider the matter. Now go.”

  Pulata bowed and left without another word. A’tai stared after him, a little ashamed of having lost his temper. He decided he would ask Uauna to set up another meeting with Pulata before he left the capital. He returned to his desk but before he could even pick up his scroll, Uauna appeared at the door again.

  “Now what is it?” He did his best not to snap. Courtesy to his servants had been ingrained in him by his father—although it was not something his mother had ever shown any interest in enforcing.

  “Your mother would like to see you, sire.”

  That was never good. He cast a wistful glance at the manuscript, but it was better to get it over with now. He wouldn’t be able to concentrate anyway, wondering what she had in store for him.

  The capital city of Kapenta was strung out across several islands, and the palace of Maulimu occupied a prime position on one of the inner islands. The building followed the gentle curve of the shoreline with his quarters at one end and his mother’s at the other. He took the least populated route and did his best to look busy and unapproachable. That didn’t stop him from being waylaid by a messenger from the chef wanting him to approve the menu for tonight’s banquet—he didn’t even remember that they were having a banquet—his chief guard, and three of the rather vapid females that his mother kept in her entourage. By the time he reached her quarters, his patience was worn thin.

  “You sent for me?” he snapped. Civility to retainers was one thing, civility to the female who liked to torment him was a completely different matter.

  “I’m so sorry. Did I interrupt your perusal of some ancient manuscript? I would have come to see you myself, but you know how uncertain my health can be. I really feel quite weak today,” U’rsul murmured. She was posed languidly on a reclining couch positioned in the exact center of an immense bay window.

  One of her females immediately rushed over to her with a golden cup of iced wine, while another proffered a damp, scented handkerchief. U’rsul gave them a faint, brave smile as A’tai did his best not to roll his eyes. His mother had enjoyed ill health for as long as he could remember—and he did mean enjoyed it. It allowed her to escape anything she considered unpleasant while miraculously permitting her to indulge in whatever activities appeal to her.

  “You look fine to me, Mother. Positively blooming.”

  She gave him a reproachful look, but he could still see her preening under what she considered suitable praise. Praise that she undoubtedly deserved. She was still a remarkably attractive female, her smooth teal skin shimmering from perfumed oils rather than youth, but her limbs supple and graceful, and her golden eyes, so like his own, still large and bright.

  “I do try to take care of myself, and not let my unfortunate weakness get the better of me. It’s the least I can do in memory of your poor dear father. He did so like to see me looking my best.”

  Another statement that was undoubtedly true. His father had been madly in love with his mother, although A’tai often suspected that the emotion had not been returned. Although she had never married again after his father’s death, and continued to wear the extremely flattering robes of the widow, he was well aware that she had not been faithful to his father’s memory.

  “Why did you send for me, Mother?”

  Her gaze sharpened, and she waved a hand, dismissing her retinue. Once they were alone, she sat up, and the needle-sharp intelligence behind her fragile veneer appeared.

  “I have been considering our position. It’s time for you to choose a mate.”

  “What?” He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting—possibly an increase in her allowance or the proposition that they open a new trade route—but certainly not this. “I have no intention of choosing a mate anytime in the near future.”

  Or ever. He had seen the hold his mother had over his father, and he had no intention of allowing any female that same hold over him.

  “Then you are not thinking logically.” His mother rose gracefully and moved to the desk in the far corner of the room. Unlike all of the other elegant, delicate furniture which filled the room, her desk was a large, functional piece—although still built from rare pink coral and carved in intricate flourishes. She pulled up a holographic screen. “Look at this. Our revenue from the algae has not been increasing, despite the increase in prices.”

  He sighed and rubbed his neck. “You know that production is down. We are getting paid more, but for less product.”

  “None of our other ventures are showing increased profits either. Unless you are willing to let me open the gambling house I proposed—”

  “How many times do I have to say no?”

  For the first time an expression of irritation wrinkled her smooth features. “You’re as stubborn as your father. With all the offworlders who come to the port, it would be immensely profitable.”

  “House Maulimu is not going to make a profit on the weakness of others.”

  “I suppose that means you would be no more amenable to opening a brothel? Very high-class, of course.”

&nb
sp; He stared at her in shock. It was the last thing he had expected to come out of her mouth. “Of course not.”

  “House Faleta opened one last quarter and it’s the talk of the town.”

  Based on her wistful expression, she was more concerned about the fact that people were talking about another House than from actually profiting from such a venture.

  “No, Mother.”

  “It’s not profiting on the weakness of others. Unless you consider sexual attraction to be a weakness?”

  He ignored the barbed tone. Although he was not immune to an attractive female, he had no desire to be led around by his moa, and his mating arm remained firmly under his control.

  “I said no.”

  She shrugged gracefully, the movement causing her gossamer gown to shimmer in the soft light.

  “Then you must choose a mate.”

  “I am not following your logic.”

  “The wealth of our House is not increasing, which means we are not growing. If we don’t grow, we die. If you are unwilling to expand our business ventures, then the alternative is to merge our House with another House that can provide a new avenue of growth.”

  He rubbed his neck again and paced over to the open window. Her reasoning was somewhat convoluted, but it was not entirely false. His historical studies had shown time and time again that relaxing into complacency had a tendency to lead to the decline and eventually the fall of a great House. But marriage? There had to be another way.

  “I suppose you have a mate already picked out?” he asked sardonically.

  “I have two suggestions. Lady I’sua would bring all of the wealth and connections of House Ramata—”

  “—which would in turn attempt to sublimate us to their interests.”

  “Exactly. It would be profitable but difficult to handle—especially if you continue to refrain from social gatherings.”

  That barb hit home. The balls, soirées, and banquets which occupied his mother’s time were more than just the fashionable assemblies they appeared to be on the surface. Important information was exchanged and trades negotiated under the semblance of innocuous conversation. He had never enjoyed them and, after an obligatory season when he came of age, he had been quite content to leave it in his mother’s capable hands. She might have been a coldhearted schemer, but she always had the best interests of the House at heart.