Iroth: Kirenai Fated Mates (Intergalactic Dating Agency) Read online

  Iroth

  Tamsin Ley

  Twin Leaf Press

  A smuggler running solo

  Iroth doesn’t deal in live cargo, but the job on Earth’s too good to pass up—purchase a female, escort her to Kirenai Prime, and rake in the credits. Except it was all a setup. Now he's on the hook for attempting to assassinate the crown prince. To avoid being shot on sight, he’s forced to assume the shape of one of the human’s primitive four-legged pets. But as a mysterious ailment threatens to compromise his disguise, he seeks refuge with a breathtaking female who turns out to be as strong as she is sweet, and his plan to escape goes to the dogs.

  A caregiver with nerves of steel

  Maise expected to leave the charity auction with a hot date. Instead, she goes home with a wounded Great Dane and a whole lot of questions. When the giant canine transforms into a sultry blue alien with amazing turquoise eyes and asks for her help, she can’t refuse… until she helps him back onto his space ship, and he won’t let her leave.

  She’s determined to find an escape, but the more time they spend together, the more she suspects he’s not the alien monster she imagined. But will her strength and kindness be enough to melt the armor around his heart?

  1

  Keeping his Iki’i shielded so any nearby Kirenai couldn’t identify him, Iroth adjusted the formal human clothing covering his matrix and took a moment to gather his senses. Using the teleport always left him woozy, and the transportation web around Earth had obviously been set up in a hurry, without the usual buffers to mitigate discomfort.

  He inhaled slowly. The warm night air was full of the sound of chirping insects. Beneath his feet, fine blades of vegetation had been shorn to an even length, though he couldn’t discern the color in the feeble light coming from the poles several paces away. A few other Kirenai in the shape of blue humans were already moving along a concrete path toward the sounds of a gathering crowd.

  He straightened his shoulders and stepped onto the trail. Tonight, he was on an exclusive guest list full of high-ranking dignitaries and wealthy merchants. The teal-blue human shape he now wore was similar to the one he grew up using—his mother was Fogarian—though his current form was taller, less hairy, and lacked claws and fangs. But it wasn’t the shape that made him uncomfortable, it was the role he needed to play.

  Normally, he preferred to do his jobs as a servant or underling, blending in with the natives. He was a burendo, able to change both color and shape, though for this job he was to be obviously Kirenai. He charged his clients exorbitant prices, making a very comfortable living infiltrating events to gather diplomatic intel or smuggling contraband. Tonight he was after different cargo. Live cargo. And the only reason he’d agreed was because the purchase would be legal, for a client who didn’t want the transaction made in his own name.

  Striding along the path, Iroth examined a pair of females who stood shoulder-to-shoulder as they watched the guests pass by. He’d worked with the black market long enough to have heard rumors about human captives capable of inciting passion in the most reticent partners. Tonight marked the first legal event for human bondservant contracts, and competition would be high.

  The females he looked at now each wore a long dark gown, one with sparkles and the other with a skirt that turned sheer at mid-thigh to reveal shapely legs. Not bad looking, he acknowledged, smiling at them as he passed. The one in the sparkly dress locked eyes with him, and he opened his Iki’i briefly to feel her emotions.

  She was curious and a bit nervous. He understood how she felt—the first job he’d hired himself out for had been thrilling and nerve-wracking, and he’d been glad when it was over. He could hardly imagine wanting to sell himself long-term to a single person.

  He continued past them, heading toward a raised platform illuminated by lights. His gut churned and his matrix wanted to contract into the smallest form possible at the sight. No matter how many times he saw a stage, he always battled those feelings. You’re not revealing yourself to anyone, he reminded himself. He wouldn’t be changing color or escorted away by his parents in shame.

  No one here knows what you are.

  Still, he sat at a table at the outer edge of the audience, taking some comfort in knowing he could bolt at a moment’s notice. Although the emperor had forbidden ship landings on the planet and restricted access through the teleportation web, Iroth had managed to land an unmanned, cloaked ship outside the city several days ago. He’d only used the transportation web tonight in order to be documented as a bidding guest. But ever since he’d had a job go sideways and leave him stuck in the slums on a G’naxian moon for six revolutions, he made sure he always had alternate ways to get off-planet.

  A human male approached his table carrying a tray with tall thin glasses of a golden beverage, and another human offered a selection of local food. Iroth politely took one of each but set them aside untouched. He’d never enjoyed foreign foods very much, plus he was too busy examining the human females gathering to one side of the stage. Each one possessed a quadruped, either on a leash or cradled like a baby. He hadn’t been warned this species required accommodations for an additional life form, and made a mental note to demand additional payment when he delivered the female.

  A small white quadruped put his front paws against the legs of the female holding its leash, stubby tail wagging. It reminded him of a baby nezumi he’d found as a child, a downy creature with a stubby tail and long floppy ears. It had been cowering in one of the space station’s condenser pipes. Most residents considered the creatures pests, and the poorer families on the station hunted and ate them. But he’d put the baby into his pocket and taken it home, sneaking it crumbs of their precious food. When his father found out, he was furious. They’d eaten nezumi soup that very night.

  Iroth shook off the memory and refocused on the human females. Now was not the time to fall into dark thoughts.

  A black-haired beauty in a sleeveless burgundy dress caught his eye. The fabric was shimmery without being gaudy, and detailed with layered pleats across the bodice and a smooth skirt that draped effortlessly from her hips. Her rich golden brown skin reminded him of well-polished amai wood and made him wonder if she smelled as sweet.

  The quadruped on her leash had thick red-and-black fur over its back and a heavy white ruff that continued down to its front feet. The animal’s mouth hung open in what looked like a smile, and though his Iki’i was closed, he imagined the complete adoration the creature must have for the female.

  Bid on her, a voice inside him urged. He pictured how she’d look splayed across the silken sheets of his bed, dewy-eyed and yearning for his next touch. Except he wasn’t buying a bondservant for himself. His client wanted breeding stock, and the woman in the burgundy dress deserved better. He forced his gaze away, examining the other females.

  The lights went down, and the auction began with the booming voice of an auctioneer rattling off information too fast for his universal translator to process. Spotlights appeared across the stage, and the women paraded out with their pets as a group, performing some sort of rehearsed strut in time to a pulsing tune. Then they retreated to the sidelines.

  Iroth folded his hands in his lap and waited as the women reappeared one-by-one, letting the first two come and go without bidding. The guests were competitive, and the bids were high. Iroth’s client had provided a generous allowance for the auction and said Iroth could keep whatever he didn’t spend, but at this rate, winning a female would require him to spend the full amount. Another reason to charge extra for the pet.

  Sighing, he bid on the next woman and lost. He eventually
won a small female in a pink dress named Susan, who had luscious curves and perfectly straight white teeth. She bounced down the stage steps, followed by a black quadruped with droopy ears and a long tail. The animal trotted up and stuck its head on his lap while the female set a tall green bottle and two empty glasses on the table. “Ish fremmich zeze genzuln!”

  He blinked, trying to decipher her words while pushing the quadruped’s muzzle out of his crotch. The damn universal translator must be on the fritz. Glancing around to be certain any nearby Kirenai were otherwise occupied, he unshuttered his Iki’i a fraction, hoping it would allow him to glean some of her meaning. She was friendly and seemed to want to begin her bondservant duties by providing him a drink.

  He smiled and nodded.

  She set the bottle down and pulled out the chair next to him, scooting it so close that they brushed elbows. Her animal lay on the ground under the table, hot breath fanning his shins. Now that he had secured a female, he was ready to depart, but it would draw undue attention to leave before the auction was over. So he continued to smile and nod as the female chattered incoherently.

  On stage, the woman in the burgundy dress appeared, knuckles white as she gripped the leash to her quadruped in both hands. The animal seemed to sense her mood, and nudged the back of her knee, herding her forward. His estimate of the creature’s value increased.

  She slowly walked to the front of the stage as two Kirenai and a Khargal began a bidding war for her contract. He could barely contain himself from joining in. But what would he do with a second female? After a few volleys of bidding, the auctioneer declared a Kirenai at a table in the center the winner, and the woman descended the steps to greet the new owner of her contract. Jealousy heated Iroth’s center.

  The female he’d purchased nudged his arm. Turning his head to look at her, his mouth collided with something that left a paste on his lips. He drew back instinctively, realizing she held a brown disk of food topped with a pale creamy substance.

  “Servi.” She cringed and popped the item into her mouth, chewing. “Is good,” she said around the food.

  She was pulsing with anxiety, struggling hard to make him like her. He licked the residue from his lips. The flavor wasn’t unpleasant, slightly sweet with a hint of oil. Her wash of relief reached him, and she smiled, raising her flute expectantly. He lifted his, and she clinked the glasses together before drinking. He sampled the bubbly alcohol, finding it acceptable, though he preferred tea.

  The auction ended on an overpriced female in a blue dress, garnering a deafening roar of applause from the audience. Then a band struck up a lively tune.

  “I leeb dis zong! Tancen?” Without waiting for his reply, his female grabbed his hand and pulled him toward a grassy area where two other couples were moving in time to the music.

  Reminding himself this was likely the last evening the female might ever have on her home planet, he let her guide him through some rhythmic steps.

  A scream shattered the music.

  Iroth twisted toward the sound and saw a woman backing away from her chair in horror.

  At the table next to her, a Kirenai half rose to his feet, quivered for a fraction of a second, and collapsed into his resting state. Another woman fell over backward in her chair.

  Iroth stared, horrified. Kirenai didn’t shift to their resting states in public. Ever.

  Humans began screaming and fleeing as Kirenai at other tables also collapsed. The two Khargals grabbed their females and flew up to the stage. A Fogarian tunneled into the ground. The two Kirenai who’d been dancing next to Iroth shuddered, turning into puddles right before his eyes.

  He opened his Iki’i to the fullest, looking for an explanation. Are they dead? His species weren’t easy to kill. But he could detect no emotion, no signature coming from the Kirenai nearby. This was a massacre unlike any he’d known.

  He looked for his female, intending to flee with her, and realized she was gone. He glanced back toward the tables. Only two other Kirenai remained standing besides himself. The nearest one stepped closer, and Iroth felt the sharp prod of inquiry along with a sense of ammonia against his Iki’i as the Kirenai sought his identity.

  Kuzara, his Iki’i was open. He shut it down, but not before sensing a brief whiff of satisfaction from the other.

  Iroth’s insides quivered. You’re going to be blamed for this. No one trusted a burendo.

  Then, to his relief, the Kirenai shuddered and collapsed along with the others.

  Feeling queasy, Iroth glanced toward the single remaining Kirenai who was now striding his direction with fury in his gaze. You can’t stick around for questioning. He had to blend in. It was what he was good at.

  Taking a deep breath, he sealed his Iki’i deep inside and let his matrix relax, joining the rest of the fallen. Only a medical scanner could now tell he was alive.

  He hoped he’d get a chance to slip away unnoticed before the real investigation began.

  2

  Maise pressed her back against the stage and gaped at the puddle of goo that moments ago had been her alien date. Her sheltie, Bixby, stood steadfastly at her side, warm thick fur pressed against her skirt as people screamed and ran, toppling chairs and shattering champagne flutes. Mounds of quivering alien remains dotted the grass.

  She’d been the first volunteer for her friend Georgie’s charity auction, glad to help the animal shelter outside of donating services from her pet grooming business. The event had brought in an exorbitant amount of money.

  Except dead aliens can’t pay. She felt guilty about the thought even as it flitted through her mind.

  An escaped poodle sped toward her, and Maise instinctively stepped on its leash, stopping it in its tracks. The owner raced up, breathless, thanked her, and grabbed the leash before continuing her flight.

  Maise returned her attention to the puddle near her feet. Was there anything she could do to help? She wasn’t a doctor, but had spent the past eight years taking night classes to become a vet. Gathering her courage, she stepped closer to for a better view and grimaced. All the veterinary training in the world couldn’t prepare her for how to perform triage on something that looked like a giant blue amoeba. She shuddered and backed away again. No way was she going to touch it without gloves.

  “Sorry, dude. Wish I could help.” She bit her lip and looked around, hoping to spot one of her friends. Everyone had already fled.

  The two horned, gray aliens had jumped onto the stage behind her and now roared in what she could only assume was aggression.

  She decided it was time for her to get out of here, too.

  Bixby stayed in a close heel as they avoided the various splotches of blue goo scattered around the tables. There was no way any of these poor aliens were alive. She pressed a hand over her middle, wondering how many had been disintegrated.

  As they passed by one of the tables, Bixby paused and emitted a low whine. The sheltie had failed service training as a medical alert dog because she was too friendly with people, but she still had a keen sense for when something was wrong with someone.

  Maise stopped, wondering if she’d found a survivor. Lifting the edge of the tablecloth, she peered beneath it.

  An enormous Great Dane Maise emerged, its gray fur covered in slick, dark blue goo.

  She recoiled. “What have you been rolling in?”

  The Great Dane froze, trembling.

  “Aw, you poor scared baby.” She unhooked Bixby’s leash and created a noose, knowing the sheltie would stay by her side without restraint. Patting her thigh, she said, “Come here, Big Boy.”

  The massive dog didn’t move, regarding her with turquoise eyes. He didn’t look aggressive, but she knew better than to assume he wasn’t. A dog his size could probably take her out with one swipe of his massive paw.

  “The big ones are always the shyest, aren’t they?” She spoke in a soft voice, maintaining eye contact. “Come on, Big Boy.”

  The dog inched forward as if pulled by a thread, sto
pping just out of range. His tail wagged slightly.

  Bixby darted out behind him and nipped at the Dane’s heels, driving him forward. Heart racing, Maise looped her spare leash around his neck and cinched it, preparing to keep the bigger dog from turning on Bixby.

  The Great Dane gave the sheltie a withering glance and turned back to Maise. She gripped the flimsy leash, knowing it wouldn’t stop him if he really wanted to get away. He must’ve slipped his collar somehow. “Stick with me, Big Boy. We’re gonna find your momma.”

  “Ma’am, are you all right?” A voice behind her made her jump, and she turned to see a man in a dark suit approaching. A helicopter thumped past overhead.

  “I’m fine.” A small cluster of women moved past her, shepherded toward the stage by another man in a suit. “What’s going on?”

  “We’re gathering survivors. Please come with me.”

  Survivors. Her stomach churned thinking about how many people she’d seen dissolve. “How many are dead?”

  “Don’t worry, ma’am, it looks like just the blue aliens were affected.”

  She didn’t like his cavalier attitude, but didn’t have a chance to respond as a labradoodle ran up to them dragging its leash. She grabbed it, adding the dog to her menagerie before joining the other women at a table that’d been pulled away from the others. The gray aliens were no longer on stage, and armed men in uniforms were extending ribbons of caution tape between stakes in the grass.

  “Please hand over your cell phones,” said a man with a clipboard and a bin.

  “Why?” asked one of the other dates from the auction, planting her hands on her hips.

  “A matter of national security, ma’am.” The man held out his hand expectantly. “Please don’t make us search you.”

  The woman harrumphed and handed over her phone. Maise reluctantly did so, too, a sense of foreboding settling over her. She’d seen enough TV shows to suspect she could end up locked in some secret government facility where no one saw the light of day. I wish I’d called Mom and Dad one last time.