Rescued by the Alien Prince: Celestial Mates (The Alva) Page 2

  And it has been worse as of late.

  Much worse.

  I have never been one to blindly follow where the group leads, which means I am not a favorite among a certain type of Prince. Recently I have been making decisions that unapologetically flaunt tradition.

  I simply do not see a reason not to do so.

  Traditions are just rules and policies that have been around long enough to lend them legitimacy, whether or not they deserve it. And the results of the changes I have helped make only confirm that.

  Restless, I stand and walk over to the window, looking out at the bustling underground marketplace, enjoying my people laughing and prosperous. My eye falls on one of the few children in House Viir. I smile as he giggles and holds up his small, chubby arms for his mother.

  The view helps be reaffirm my stance.

  No, I am not making the wrong decisions.

  My smile fades as the child disappears from view. Turning away, I begin pacing. Dinner is still hours away. I have work I could do, but...

  I turn to the desk and the messages I have still to read. I should begin, but I find burying myself in work is no longer enough.

  I run my hands through my hair as I walk out of my study, needing more space to expend my energy. I nod at the curtsying maids but keep walking. The truth is, seeing Drevakin and Elorshin so settled with their Paris and their children makes me long for the same. The utter contentment that radiates from the two of them is clear to anyone.

  They have families, people that give them purpose. I have the people of House Viir, but they do not wait for me to come home at night.

  They do not ask after my mood.

  They do not warm my bed at night.

  I want all of that. I want children of my own to fill my House Mansion with life, not simply with quiet servants and visiting Princes.

  Directly after it became clear that Margot was in fact Elorshin's Pari, I went to Celestial Mates and went through the process to find a human female of my own.

  But I am still waiting.

  Even while Drevakin starts a family of his own.

  I smile cynically as I stop in front of another window, this one looking out into the courtyard. I shake my head at myself. It serves me right that I have to wait so long after I forced Elorshin into a match that could have doomed him to a lifetime of pain. Besides, envy is not a good emotion to feel, especially toward people I consider friends, not just allies.

  But I have waited so long.

  I stand for some time, letting my thoughts wander where they will. When I finally move to return to my study, I know one thing for certain.

  I can and will wait as long as I must to find my own match.

  Hope is fire I will not allow to die.

  3

  Ling

  I look out of the worn blinds for the tenth time in as many minutes.

  I did everything I could think of—went to an unexpectedly bad part of town, used cash to check in to the hotel, used an assumed name. The guy with the bald spot and greasy hair at the front desk didn't even bat an eye, obviously used to cash transactions from nervous looking people.

  But the world is only so big these days and I'm no spy. I can't keep this up forever, I'm sure they'll find me eventually.

  I sit down at the edge of the questionable bed with a sigh. How long am I going to hide out here? I need some kind of plan but I can't come up with one that seems viable. I don't have any real evidence to take to the police and I’m not safe with them anyway.

  At this point, I don't know who I can trust.

  I jump a little as my phone beeps with an incoming call, it's Daniel.

  I left a message last night telling him where I am in case he needs to reach me. I wanted to talk to him and reassure myself that I’m not being crazy or paranoid, but he didn’t answer then.

  "Hey, Daniel. I know my message was kind of garbled, but I was-"

  "Ling, they know where you are," he interrupts, his voice tense.

  My stomach tightens. "Who knows where I am?"

  "You know who. I'm signing off on taking the land off the preservation list," he says tensely. "I'm sorry," he apologizes, his voice cracking. "They threatened my family...and wanted to know where you are..." He lets out a breath. "I broke."

  A chill shivers my spine. "It's okay. I understand," I whisper, like the walls are closing in on me.

  "Get out of there. Right now." He inhales shakily. "I'm sorry."

  And then the dial tone is ringing in my ear.

  I slowly put the phone down, not quite in my own body.

  My small suitcase is still packed.

  Shoving my feet into shoes, I grab my bag and leave the room, adrenaline rushing through me in a jittery wave as I walk quickly down the grimy hallway.

  I take the stairs down to the lobby, not trusting the rusted looking elevators I saw on the way up and not wanting to be trapped in one anyway. Jumping down the last few stairs, I take a step out into the lobby but immediately freeze as two men dressed in dark clothes come in, their faces set in stoic expressions.

  Shit.

  I immediately turn in the other direction, trying not to draw attention as I turn the corner. Waiting for a moment, I listen. Maybe they're just the normal shady characters that frequent this place.

  "We're looking for someone."

  The voice is stern, cold.

  "We're vacant," the man behind the front desk says in a bored tone.

  I wince at a heavy, meaty sound.

  "You broke my nose!" the hotel employee exclaims, no longer sounding so bored.

  "Where is Ling Richards?"

  "I don't have anyone here by that name!" he cries wetly.

  Breath catching, I look down the hall in the other direction. A flickering exit sign shines at the very end, a beacon at the end of the tunnel. Moving as quietly as possible, I take a deep breath as I slowly push the door open. It makes a slight creak as I get it open just enough to slide out into the narrow alleyway at the side of the hotel.

  I don't wait to see if the goons heard me.

  Running down the alley toward the back of the building, I scan the area but there’s no good place to hide. Adrenaline is making it difficult to concentrate, my heartbeat is loud to my own ears.

  A creak sounds from behind.

  No more time. I have to go. There are a few doors, but the closest one looks the most inviting, a light shining out from the small window set towards the top. I read the sign above it, written in a stylized calligraphy.

  Celestial Mates.

  I have no idea what it could be, but beggars can't be choosers. I duck through the door. I don’t have any other options.

  I ease the door shut behind me as I look around, it’s like I've suddenly stepped into another world. I'm standing in a small, soft colored sitting room with a receptionist situated toward the back, her smiling face somewhat incongruous with my current situation.

  I blink.

  "Hello," she greets in a chipper voice, her blonde hair shifting only slightly as she tilts her head. "Welcome to Celestial Mates. Do you have an appointment?"

  "Uh. No. No I don't." I glance back at the door and take a step toward her. "Is that a problem?"

  "No, not at all! We actually have a representative available right now. If you have a seat she'll be right with-"

  "I can take her now, Jessie, thank you."

  I turn at the interruption from the sound of the musical voice.

  The woman—or I guess it's a woman anyway—is tall and thin, her pretty, androgynous face smiles gently. Dressed in a gauzy, pale yellow dress, her almost white hair falls softly to her hips.

  "Right this way, my dear," she murmurs, stepping to the side and gesturing down the hall she just came from.

  There is definitely something...off about her.

  If I had a choice I would leave right now but I don’t, so mentally shrugging I follow. As we walk down a hall lined with multiple doors, I listen for the sound of the front door ope
ning from behind. It doesn’t come and the representative gestures into an open office. She smiles as she steps inside and closes the door behind her.

  Relief washes through my tense limbs. I'm not out of the woods, but somehow two doors between myself and disaster seems much safer than one. Probably a stupid way to think, especially considering I'm now trapped in here with this stranger.

  "I am sorry, I did not catch your name?" she asks in a gentle voice as she circles around behind her desk.

  "Ling. Ling Richards," I say, forgetting that I should use a fake name.

  Too late now.

  "Welcome to Celestial Mates, Ling," she says, placing her long, slim hands on the desk.

  There's something off about her hands as well, but she looks like she belongs in this room. The walls are painted a light pink, the touches of other pastel colors gives the place the same feeling of serenity as her voice.

  But I'm still not exactly clear on what they do here.

  "Um, I'm sorry. Can you tell me exactly what it is you...do?" I ask, wondering if I'm about to interview for a cult.

  Or maybe some kind of door to door saleswoman job.

  I could see her selling pastel lipsticks.

  The strange woman isn't fazed at all by my question. "Well, our mission statement sums it up quite nicely," she says, pointing up to the wall behind her.

  I look at the white writing stenciled on the wall. "Celestial Mates—Bringing Love Across Time and Space," I read out loud. "Oh. You're a dating service?"

  "Oh, no. We are much more than that," she corrects, leaning forward with the zeal of a true convert. "No, we do not simply show you possible candidates that we hope you will like. We use a scientific approach to find you a true mate, someone who is genetically and emotionally compatible, that meets your preferences in a partner."

  Right. They're a dating service. "I see," I say, my smile a little strained. But where else am I going to go right now?

  "I can see you are not very convinced," she remarks, her smile knowing. "But we have a very high success rate. Do you want to try our service? I can guarantee you will not regret it."

  That's a pretty strong claim, but why not? It's not like I have anything else to do but kill time right now.

  "Sure," I say, smiling back. "What do I have to do?"

  "Excellent," she says, beaming. "It is quite simple. I will ask you some questions and specifics about what you desire in a mate, I will take a blood test to do a genetic work up, and we will do a body scan to ensure your health and record a visual representation."

  Okay. That's different, and more than I expected. "Blood test?"

  She smiles sympathetically. "Do not worry. It is very quick."

  Letting a stranger who isn't a doctor poke me with needles doesn’t seem like a great idea, but I just can’t leave. "Okay. Let's do it."

  I guess today's the day I take every risk possible.

  "Wonderful," she says, getting up. "Now, if you will just step inside this area here..."

  I look at the glass enclosed corner suspiciously. Shrugging mentally once again, I step inside and hope I haven't jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire. She does something and a black bar comes down slowly from the ceiling. I force myself to stay still as it emits a blue, horizontal light that travels the length of my body.

  "Good. Now if you could please turn around and allow the scanner to do the other side..."

  I turn. I mean, it hasn't killed me yet.

  "Wonderful," she says, gesturing for me to step out.

  I sit back down in the chair as she reaches into a cabinet and pulls out a small white device. "Arm please. This will sting only for a moment," she murmurs as she sets the tip against the crook of my elbow.

  There’s the promised sting, but then it's over.

  "Excellent," she says, beaming as she circles back around her desk. "Your data is being added to your file. Now, I am going to ask you questions regarding what you would like in your mate. Please answer honestly so we can find a compatible match. Are you ready to begin?"

  She looks at me expectantly.

  I've already let her put me in a glass enclosure and stick a needle in my arm. I think I can handle a few questions.

  "Go ahead."

  "Wonderful. Now, I am going to start with non-physical characteristics. Which ones would you most like your future mate to have?"

  That's pretty straightforward.

  "Empathy, kindness, the drive to make a difference. Intelligence."

  She nods, typing swiftly.

  "Very good. And ones you do not like?"

  "Selfishness. An inability to be personally accountable. A tendency to bully others."

  "Hmm. And..."

  She continues, asking me questions I'd never even really thought of before.

  "Very good," she says again in. "Now, we are going to do physical characteristics. Are you open to non-humanoids?"

  "Oh. Um. Non-humanoids?"

  "Well, yes," she confirms, her face somewhat puzzled. "That is what the across space section of our tag line is about. Are you not willing to go off planet?" she asks, suddenly looking worried.

  Off planet?

  I didn't know the across time and space thing was literal!

  I knew she looked off somehow. I haven't ever actually met an alien, but the days when humans thought we were alone in the universe are long over.

  I take a breath and consider it for a moment.

  What better way to avoid the people I'm trying to escape than by being off the planet altogether? The reality of it is, I can only run for so long. The world is too small these days to hide indefinitely. That thought is brewing in the back of my mind as I answer more detailed questions about appearance than I’m really comfortable answering but I do the best I can and we get through the long questionnaire.

  "Wonderful!" she exclaims. She either really is ecstatic or is a wonderful actress. "Now, our program will take this information and look through the files we have to see if you have a match..."

  "Right now?" I don't know why I'm surprised.

  "Yes, our process is quick and thorough," she says absently, staring at her computer screen.

  Practical, I suppose that’s good. But I guess I wasn't really mentally prepared for a possible match right away and turns out, I don't really have much time to brace myself.

  "Oh!" She looks at me, her smile bright with happiness. "You have a match! How very fortunate! Some of our clients have to wait for some time before they find a compatible partner!"

  "Oh. Well...yay?" I don't know how I really feel right now. I have a mixture of opposing emotions trying to fight it out inside me.

  "Yes, 'yay' is very appropriate," she continues happily, punching in something on the keyboard. "You have matched with an Alvan."

  "But...an Alvan? Do they speak English?" I ask, trying to grasp the practicalities of something like this.

  "No, I am afraid not," she admits, her joy dimming for only a moment. She bounces back quickly. It's kind of fascinating to watch. "However, we have taken feedback from very satisfied clients about the language barrier and have come up with a solution." She slides opens a drawer in her desk and pulls out a small, tan colored object. "This is a translation device. You can place it in your ear and it will translate the Alvan language into English for you. And if you speak in English, it will translate into Alvan so all you will have to do is repeat it. We will also give you materials and tools to help you learn the language, but this is something we have come up with to help you when you first arrive."

  "That sounds...very thorough."

  "Yes, we pride ourselves on our client service and satisfaction," she says proudly. She leans forward, her eyes sparkling. "Your match is actually a Prince! Isn't that exciting?"

  "Um, yes. Very exciting."

  I have an instant image of a stuffy, weak looking guy in ruffles, too lazy and spoiled to be of much real use.

  "Prince Naefaren Viir," she continues, not hearing or complete
ly ignoring the doubt in my voice. "Would you like to see him?" she asks eagerly.

  "Sure," I say faintly.

  She presses something else and a holographic image of my apparent match pops up in the open area of the room.

  "Oh." I simply stare for a few seconds. "Is that...is that actual size?" I ask, feeling like an idiot for phrasing it that way, but I don't know how else to say it.

  "Oh, yes. Our scans are very accurate. And the Alva are a taller people in comparison to humans. Prince Naefaren is seven feet tall, in fact."

  That does sound about right. His hologram dominates the room. He isn't just ridiculously tall—he's built. His large frame is obviously heavily muscled. The sleeveless, robe-like garment he wears doesn't cover that fact at all, his impressive arms are bare, his wide shoulders filling out the top.

  And he's blue.

  Really blue. A light, almost pastel color with long, deep purple hair and topaz gold eyes that have an intense, intelligent look. His face is all clean lines and angles.

  Very handsome.

  And his ears actually come to a gentle point.

  Humanoid, yes.

  But so very not human.

  "Do you approve? Would you like to accept the match, Ling? Ling?"

  I tear my eyes away from the image, wondering how long I've simply been staring at it mutely.

  "I...yes. I accept."

  4

  Naefaren

  "If we expand the limit on imports, that would fill the void. And it would also increase the amount of people to sell to."

  "Yes, but if we flood the market, the people of the House may suffer a loss."

  "But the increase in traffic will offset it."

  "Not necessarily. If..."

  I listen as my allies discuss things around the table.

  We've been having regular meeting about how to expand trade, how to tweak aspects that are not working in some Houses but are working wonderfully in others, to hear complaints, and so on.