Page 4 of Alien Breed


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“Are you sure? If the same mate can sell herself time and time again, what is to stop her?” Kronos is onto me already.

“What indeed.” Emrys’s voice sounds like gravel and death.

I knew that my plan might not work, but I had no idea it would fail so spectacularly so quickly. I curse under my breath. I should have screened for psychic aliens. I could swear that the valker is starting to read my mind. Emrys is going to ruin everything for me. The barbarian just sounds confused for the moment, but I can hear Emrys’ fury in my head. I have to get away from him. I fear him the way a fox fears a hound.

“Let’s check the reference numbers and call the company. They will surely sort this out.”

Kronos looks like his preferred method of conflict resolution is hitting things very hard, but he is talking in a very reasonable, sensible way. He seems like a genuinely nice guy. I almost feel guilty for scamming him out of a very large amount of money. Almost.

I cower between the feet of the two aliens who own me, cursing the bad luck that seems to have gotten me caught right away. Usually my plans go bad eventually, but they hardly ever go bad this quickly. This is a record.

“Come with me if you want to live.”

A voice hisses at me from beneath the tables. A narrow, intelligent face appears in front of me. This alien has blue skin and the most enchanting gold eyes I have ever beheld. He does not have hair. He has a thick golden tendril that runs from the tip of his head down his spine, terminating in something like a tail. It’s a very unique feature for a very unique and rather rare alien. I’ve heard of these before, but I’ve never seen one.

“What?” I mouth the word back. I don’t think this guy was a patron of the diner to begin with, which means he might very well be yet another one of my unimpressed owners. I’m starting to think that everybody I’m going to encounter from now on is someone who has a direct financial interest in me.

He crawls forward, his expression lit up with amusement. If he did spend money on me, he doesn’t seem mad about it. He has a lithe but athletic body, and I can see his shoulders working in an alluring manner as he belly-crawls toward me. I like a flexible guy.

He is a Celarius alien. They are rarely seen, mostly because they are so incredibly good at stealth, and it doesn’t seem to do them any good to be seen most of the time. We don’t really know much about the Celarius, aside from the fact that they are often present when they appear not to be. They’re probably up to something, but nobody is quite sure what.

Under any other circumstances, I’d be happy to see one of these guys. Under the current circumstances, I’m thrilled. If anybody can get me out of this situation, it is a Celarius.

“That vamp is not going to forgive you for tricking him,” he says, his voice somehow audible to me, and yet I’m pretty sure not to anybody else. It’s like he’s throwing it at me in a sort of directional way that leaves me the sole focus. It’s fascinating. “You know what they do when they’re angry?”

I shake my head.

“You’d be lucky if the only thing he did was drink your blood.”

“Who are you?” I whisper the words.

“Judging by what I’ve overheard so far? Buyer number three.”

“Fuck.”

“I don’t care,” he chuckles. “I’m going to have you for my own, my wicked little human. Let’s go. Now.”

He brims with mischief, but there is also a gravitas and a dominance to his tone. He does not intend to be disobeyed either, I think. Thank god for the arrogance of the average male of any given species. Their ability to think that the circumstances that apply to others do not actually apply to them is as endless as it is unfounded. I might be an untrustworthy lying scammer who has taken the other two for a ride, but this guy is convinced he will be different.

He seems like my best option. The barbarian would be my second choice, but Emrys can get fucked as far as I am concerned. And not by me, either. He’s terrifying. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to fuck him. You’d have to have a real death wish, I think.

“Are you expecting anybody else?”

“Hard to say,” I murmur. I’m not telling him that yeah, there’s at least two others on the way. “What’s your name?”

“You can call me Raz,” he says. “And what’s your name?”

“Stephanie.”

“That’s not your name,” he chuckles. “I’m going to set up a distraction here in a moment or two, and as soon as that happens, I’m going to nab you. All you have to do is not put up a fight and you’ll get out of here, I promise.”

I trust him because he has a devious look in his eyes, and I think like really does attract like. He’s up to something, and he doesn’t mind that I am as well.

There’s a squeak as the door to the diner opens.

“Hello? Do you serve hot chocolate here?”

A new customer has arrived at the diner. A human man wearing a brown suit with a beige shirt and an orange striped tie. He has a mild-mannered expression, and a combover in spite of the fact that he does not look in any way bald. He stands about five foot eight, and he is carrying a briefcase in his right hand.

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