Pheromone, p.12
Pheromone, page 12
part #1 of For the Love of Aliens Series
“You killed Avril,” I whisper, unsure of what else to say. He seems to consider that, but then he shakes his head.
“The human medic? No. I did not kill Avril.” He pauses, studying me with an erotic sweep of his demon-pitch eyes. “Do you want to see her? I will take you to her.”
I open my mouth three times before I find the words. I’m mesmerized by the shape of his teeth, his full pink lips, his two-toned skin. I wish I could explain it, but if love-at-first-sight was really a thing, this would be it. When I stare into his eyes, I feel like time and space are meaningless, like my very consciousness was crafted just so I could meet this man.
“Do you know where Jane is?” I ask, because if he’s got Avril then maybe …
“Jane?” he repeats the word in his own voice, a fluttering whisper that sends my stomach into a sea of somersaults. His antennae look like horns, long and white as bone with black frills underneath. He sweeps them forward and over my hair, like he’s smelling me or something. “I have the human medic and no other.” He pauses here, and I swear that he inhales like he’s trying to shore himself up to do something he doesn’t want to. “If there is something else …” Moth Guy lifts one of his gloved hands up and trails a finger down the length of my jaw. My body revolts against my brain. Jelly legs. Hard nipples. A pulsing core. “I will procure it. Anything for you, my Princess.”
Princess? Is he calling me by a pet name? Or is he actually a prince? Which of those theories is worse?
A strange laugh escapes me as I remember the strength of his tongue, the way he sucked my blood off his finger. Wouldn’t it be better if that tongue was in your mouth? Even better if it was between your legs?
He smiles darkly at me, as if he can sense the direction of my thoughts, as if he’d gladly turn those thoughts into reality. He looks at me like we’re meant to be together.
Fuck. This. Shit.
I duck under his arm and take off, sprinting through the crowd until I’m just … not moving anymore. I slam into something hard and bounce off, finding myself pillowed in a sea of blue and white.
A face comes right up against mine, a voice like sex and bubbles before it hits the translator.
“Well, hello there, Earthling.” The man’s words are muffled by a brown bandana that he reaches up to tug away from his smirking lips, leaving it to hang like a cowl around his neck.
I’m blinking back at a sloe-eyed alien with three irises in each eye. Yeah, two eyes. Six irises between them. I don’t even … what the fuck? They’re rimmed in black and set in a pale white face with a bluish tint. The guy has a slash of saucy mouth with small, sharp teeth that he flashes at me in a cheerful grin. He looks like he’s having a grand ol’ time as he tips his cowboy hat in greeting.
My gaze slips past his face to look on either side of me.
Tails.
I’m lying in a bed of blue tails with white suckers. I can’t say how many tails there are. At least six, probably more.
Sucker Tail.
“Oh, thank God,” I breathe, and he laughs at me. Not only is his voice like bubbles, actual bubbles float out along with his laughter. Low, seductive, invitational laughter. My own body reacts accordingly, shivers of interest pricking over my flushed skin.
“You’re thanking the deities for our union? I’m a lucky male, don’t you think?”
Huh. I quirk a brow as he uses his tails to set me on my feet. When he steps back, I realize that he’s got nine of those tentacle tails swaying behind him. He reminds me a bit of a kitsune or a gumiho (both of which are nine-tailed fox legends based in Japan and Korea respectively). Not that historical lore and fantasy is my thing. My little brother, Nate, is the one who’s into that shit.
But the nine tails? The webbed fox ears peeking through small slits in the brim of his hat? That’s where the resemblance between this guy and those things ends. He’s not furry, not at all. He’s sleek and taut and provocative and scaled. Every inch of him shimmers in the overpowering sunlight. Every inch of him—his stance, his smile, his exposed body—screams sex, sex, sex.
This is the cop I was supposed to find? The only attractive alien in the market? One of two, I remind myself, trying not to think of Moth Guy. One of three hotties on this entire planet, and I’ve managed to locate them all.
The Sucker Tail stands above me, casting a long shadow, hands planted on his bare hips. And when I say bare, I mean it. He’s wearing little more than a low-slung belt with a gathered strip of brown fabric to cover his crotch. As wide as he is in the chest, he’s narrow in the waist, muscular in the hips, and wearing see-through cowboy boots with water sloshing around inside. The hell?
I tear my eyes away from his literal ten-pack, past his bulging biceps, to his face. It’s vaguely human which is nice, and that smarmy grin proves that he’s sentient and at least well-meaning enough to flirt with me. Doesn’t look anything like a galactic cop though—with the small exception of the massive assault rifle slung on his back.
He leans in toward me when I find myself speechless, gaze sweeping me like he’s scoping me out for a date, before his attention lands back on my face. His smile colors with contemplation as we study each other. He has a sculpted nose with slits for nostrils and a heavier brow topped with narrow shark-like fins. They draw back over his eyes and curve around the sides of his head with elfin sharpness. Soft sapphire ‘hair’ frames his face, a long braid sliding over one shoulder to fall between us.
I’m starting to think that this world is out to get me. While most of the aliens here are so hideous as to be offensive, this one … I forget who I am and what I’m supposed to be doing for several seconds. His body—which is on full display mind you—is not only rock-solid but two-toned blue and white and very, very pretty. He flicks a purple tongue against the corner of his mouth, flashing a bit of silver on the underside.
The man snaps long fingers at me, and I jump.
“I’ve located one of the trafficked humans,” he says, more to himself than to me. His tentacle tails whisper around me, a single sucker at the tip of each one. As I stand there, he suctions them against the naked skin on either of my cheeks and pulls them off with a pop. Heat rushes to my face that I wish I could explain to either you, myself, or (eventually) my therapist.
“Yeah, um, pretty sure that I located you.” I put my hands on my hips to match his pose, and he offers me the barest half-smile in response. “You’re a …” I search my mind for the word that Zero gave me. I’ve got a strong feeling that ‘Sucker Tail’ might come across as offensive. “A Falopex. That means you’re a cop, right?” I clasp my hands together in pleading, all shame having been tossed out the window the moment I woke up to an alien dragon eating me out. I mean healing my thigh wound. Yeah, that.
“You’re lucky to be alive” he says, and then his gaze shifts up and over my head.
Once again, I smell and feel him before I see him.
Moth Guy steps up beside us, and if I’d never seen my mom in a mood, I’d say this alien guy is the true face of fury. He looks at me like I kicked him in the balls and spit in his face.
“You run from me when you well know your place by my side?” That’s what he says to me, a guy I met for all of ten seconds twice. See what I mean? If it isn’t Big D, the oh-so-helpful but brooding alien dragon, it’s the clingy moth stalker. Or … Cop Guy isn’t looking at me anymore. He’s staring at Moth Guy like the man owes him money.
Now he looks like a cop.
“Do you have business with this human?” he asks, his voice not so much like bubbles anymore. Ocean waves during a typhoon is how I’d describe it. Still, there he stands, half-naked with his hands on his handsome hips, a single tentacle tracing the brim of his hat.
I blink in surprise as a small octopus-like creature floats in the air near his face. It has a tiny beak and massive black marbles for eyes. Two tiny ears stick up from its bright pink body, and it swivels them as it studies me. Next thing I know, it’s landing on my shoulder and Cop Guy is frowning at me.
I like his facial expressions, at least. They’re as human as I’ve seen thus far in this place. I reach up a tentative hand and pat the tiny octopus whatever-the-hell-it-is on the head. It chirps at me and bubbles twirl from its beak, popping in the overheated air. Cop Guy’s eye twitches as he looks back to my stalker.
“Do I have business?” Moth Guy makes a hissing sound that translates through my headset as low, sardonic laughter. “You may wish to reconsider how you address me.” He spreads his wings in what I can only assume is a warning, his antennae drawing back like the ears of an angry cat. He doesn’t blink often, by the way, if at all. Those endless eyes switch from the Cop Guy to me and then back again. “This female is my mate.”
“That’s a fucking lie.” I point at Moth Guy, and he rears back like I’ve pissed in his face. “I don’t know this dude at all. He purchased one of my friends from that market.” I’m gesturing randomly at the frosted tent only to see that the Humans … pets, meat, or mates sign has mysteriously disappeared. Uh-uh. Yep. I found the police officer alright. “Now he’s stalking me. Is that a crime here? If it’s not then it should be.”
“How dare you defy our mate-bond?” Moth Guy growls at me, and my stupid body reacts like he’s just asked me to visit a love-lock bridge with him so we can hang heart-shaped locks with our initials carved on them. “If you hadn’t crawled away from me in the tent—and kept your blood to yourself—I wouldn’t have purchased the wrong girl. Take care, Officer, and proceed with caution.”
Cop Guy laughs at that, the sound like rushing water. He takes a step forward, liquid sloshing around inside his strange boots, and he leans in toward Moth Guy.
“My apologies, Your Imperial Majesty, but did you forget that the Falopex don’t scrape or bow to anyone?” His mouth twitches into another cocksure smile. “Not even to the holy and gracious rulers of the Noctuida.” Cop Guy flings a hand in my direction. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t your wings unmarked? I haven’t seen her bare back—yet—but let me take a crack at this: she’s unmarked, too?” His mouth quirks at one edge, and he snorts, bubbles escaping his nose. The officer’s eyes catch on the naked skin above the zipper of my suit, and I blush.
He is definitely checking me out.
Fair enough.
I’m checking him out, too.
Something about Cop Guy’s statement—or the look he just gave me—puts the moth prince into a frenzy. Great. A stalker who also happens to be a prince. There’s no possible way for this to end badly.
“There are no marks because there has been no wedding.” Moth Guy looks at me as if this is somehow my fault. “But I have tasted her blood.”
Something about that statement sobers Cop Guy immediately. He’s practically stricken as he looks over at me. I don’t like that, not at all. His pet chirps at me again, its tiny tentacles suctioned to the shoulder of my space suit. Swear to God that when Cop Guy studies me again, his gaze drops to the lacy swells of my breasts. He sweeps one of his tails over his face, like he’s stressed out.
“Do you know anything about the other abducted humans?” he asks, which freaks me out.
“That’s why I came back here. I need to get my friends back, and then we need to go home.” I stroke the tiny octopus and find that its skin is pleasantly dewy despite the brutal sunshine. “There are four of us—not including the opossum.” I recount in my head to make sure I’ve got the number right. Me, Jane, Avril, Connor, Madonna. Okay, yep. Got it. I’m secretly hoping that Tabbi’s been eaten.
“Weren’t there six?” Cop Guy asks, sounding alarmed as one of his tails toys with the brim of his hat. His scaled fox ears perk up as if he’s trying to hear me better. He scratches at a burn mark on his chest—it appears to be an intentional design of some sort—and growls out an alien curse followed by yet more bubbles. He shifts those strange eyes over to me again.
“The lawyer was eaten by a slug monster.” I think hard about how to mention Tabbi. “The pop star … wants to stay here. Says she hates it back on Earth.” God, I’m a bitch. But you know what? If I never have to cater another one of Tabbi’s vegan fundraisers, it’ll be too soon. “So can you please take me somewhere safe?” I clasp my hands together again and the pink octopus floats away, drifting in the air around Cop Guy. “I could really use some water.”
He stares at me again and then hooks a pretty smile.
I gasp when he grabs me by the back of the neck with a tail, yanking me toward him and crushing his mouth against mine. What is it with these fucking aliens?! But then the weirdest thing happens. My thirst disappears as I kiss him, and the sensation is oddly like drinking down a nice, cool glass of ice water on a hot day. His suction cup wets the back of my neck, offering yet more relief from the heat.
My heart rebels against my rib cage, my fingers coming up to press against the smoothness of his midsection.
A white wing flings out between us, abruptly cutting off our … whatever that was.
“You are edging precariously close to an early death,” Moth Guy says to a smirking Cop Guy, dropping his wing as his red-gloved hand snags my elbow again. He bares those vampiric teeth in a royal scowl. “Did you not hear me? Or perhaps you’re simply too stupid to understand. This female is my mate which means that I’ll become the next crown prince. I should position The Korol over Yaoh to ensure that the Falopex remember their proper place.”
Whoa.
I’m not entirely sure what any of that means—The Korol? Yaoh?—but the insult does exactly what Moth Guy intended it to do. It pisses Cop Guy all the way off.
“If I were of a different mind,” he growls back, “I would arrest you for purchasing a protected species from an unauthorized market stall.” He abruptly changes color, blooming from blue-and-white to pink-and-white. His pet changes color, too, but from pink to blue. Cop Guy shakes himself all over and fluffs up those tentacle tails, using two of them to rub at his temples. He pushes the suckers against his face and yanks them off with another sharp pop. “So calm the fuck down, Princeling. I was simply offering the lady a drink.” He flushes back to blue again, and Moth Guy grits his teeth. When the prince goes to grab me again, Cop Guy snatches him by the wrist and the two of them are locked together in a battle of wills.
“Eve!”
My heart stops when I hear that voice. Jane. Oh my fucking God, it’s Jane!
“Jane!” I yell back, and then I take off before either Moth Guy or Cop Guy can stop me.
I’m shoving through creatures I’d otherwise be terrified of, diving into the crowd which quickly parts to let me through, whispers of Aspis this, Aspis that following along behind me.
“Eve!” she shouts, the sound frantic, like maybe she heard me calling back.
“I’m over here!” I jump up and down, waving my arms, but I don’t see anything even remotely human in the vicinity. A quick glance over my shoulder shows neither guy has followed me—yet. I keep moving, calling out her name as she does the same for me, a Marco Polo sort of a deal.
It feels like I might be getting close when a meaty hand clamps down on the arm of my pink space suit.
I glance up to see a Tusk Guy—correction: five Tusk Guys—staring at me.
My first inclination is to stab one, yanking the makeshift knife from my belt. The man knocks it away as easily as one might swat a fly. Whelp. There goes my only weapon. Told ya I wasn’t a superhero.
“Is this the bitch?” one of them asks, the translator working through their guttural language like it’s nothing. See? I told you this headset was superior. It only seems to struggle with Big D’s words. “The human that slaughtered our brothers so she could mate an Aspis?” He spits on me then, actually hocks a massive loogie onto my suit.
“The fuck is your problem?” I snap back at him, and then he punches me.
The pain is violent and wild, like my skull’s been cracked in half. His hand fists in my hair next and I lose my footing, finding myself dragged across the sandy road like so much cargo.
This would be … time number three that I’ve been kidnapped by these asshole Tusk Bros.
“Let go of me,” I snarl, so close to Jane and yet so goddamn far away. Where’s my stalker when I need him? I bet Moth Guy—his imperial lord and majesty, barf—would flip all the way out at the sight of me bleeding and being jerked around like cargo. Also, Cop Guy was a character, but he seemed to take his job seriously. What are they doing if not following me?
“Not a chance in hell, Aspis whore,” the bully says, yanking me towards a building on the opposite side of the road. Strange sounds emanate from inside, a sign hanging over the door that very clearly shows a row of phalluses. Each one is stranger than the next, but I don’t have time to dwell on that. I can take a wild guess as to why they’re up there. This is a brothel.
I hear the sounds before we even hit the doorway. Sex. Or a fucked-up, twisted trespass parading as sex. More like, rape.
I scream as loudly as I can, but the sound is swallowed up by the hustle and bustle of the market. Nobody seems to care that I’m being yanked around by my hair and carted off against my will.
“You called me an Aspis’ mate, right?” I sputter through the blood pouring down my face. “How stupid do you think you’ll look when he comes for me?”
“He ain’t comin’ in the market,” Tusk Guy grunts, dragging me through the door. “They rarely come in the market.”
The interior of the building is shadowed, thick with smoke and cloying perfumes and … there’s something going on in the back corner with tentacles and wings and … I don’t even know what the hell else. But those sounds? The smells? This is truly a den of iniquities.
The guy ignores me as I thrash around, biting at him—correction: trying to bite him since his skin is as hard as leather. He crushes my wrist against the wall when I try to punch his crotch, and then slings me over his back as he clomps up a set of stairs.
We’re nearing the open door of a room, a pile of leaves in one corner to serve as a bed, a bucket for God only knows what in the other corner, and a series of chains hooked to the wall and left dangling.
