Mate Abduction (Alien Abduction #9) - Eve Langlais Page 0,38

person who was crawling for the woods, sobbing. No one that she knew, not that she’d met many folks since her arrival, but she’d rather liked the ones she had. Except for the one-eyed barber. He kept eyeing her red hair and offering to shave it whenever she walked by on her way to the bakery—which happened to be three times since her return. They had a thing resembling a donut with gooshy stuff in the middle that was to die for.

A sleek spaceship was parked in the field, and near it a massive purple dude, wielding a giant sword. More interesting was the woman standing wide-eyed by his side.

A familiar woman who exclaimed, “Clarabelle? Is that really you?” It was Betty, her best friend and another orphan from Earth.

Clarabelle couldn’t help but grin then waved, only belatedly realizing she’d not sheathed her knife or gun. “In the flesh. But a better question is, what are you doing here with tall, muscled, and purple? And what’s with all the dead bodies?” No need to let the big dude know most of them lived. He might be tempted to finish them off.

“I’m here looking for you.”

“Really?” Clarabelle couldn’t help but be surprised.

“Of course, really,” Betty snapped. “You stopped communicating with me, and I got worried.”

She’d not kept in touch after her departure mostly because she had nothing to tell. It never occurred to her that someone might come looking. “I was busy.” Busy fighting her attraction. Busy making out with Thyos. Busy trying to tell herself she wasn’t falling for the guy.

“Too busy to let me know you were alive?”

Guilt filled her. “The Zonian council knew I was.”

“Well, I didn’t.”

“Sorry.” An inadequate apology, but what else could she say? That she’d failed in her quest? Gotten distracted by bronzed abs?

Apparently sorry wasn’t acceptable. The big purple guy held Betty back, his hands intimate. Her friend didn’t slap them away.

Hold on a second. When had Betty met the purple dude? And had they hooked up?

“So what have you been doing, other than ignoring your friends?” Betty finally managed to grumble.

Clarabelle almost winced at the rebuke. “Checking things out. Following up on some interesting clues. Looking for some guys for the other orphans to hook up with.” Wondering if perhaps she should tell her friends about the Spa’Rtk’un. Maybe send a few pics.

“You’re on a quest to find them some boyfriends?”

Clarabelle noticed Betty’s use of them, not us. Last she’d seen her friend, she was training on Zonia, bitching like the rest of them about the lack of men to date.

Had something changed?

She eyed the warrior dude even more carefully. He stood behind Betty and didn’t interfere, but he appeared vigilant. She had no doubt he’d act if he thought Betty was in danger. Was that why he’d slaughtered all the guys in the field?

For some reason she cast a glance behind her, wondering where Thyos hid. She had a feeling he’d act just as violently if she were threatened. It made her feel warm inside.

It occurred to her Betty was still waiting for an answer about the whole boyfriend thing. “More or less. Since Earth is off-limits, we’re going to need something, or someone, for the gals, or there are going to be a lot of irritable and sexually deprived women on Zonia soon.” She was babbling, she knew it, however a tingling sensation on the back of her neck let her know Thyos neared. How would he handle the wholesale slaughter? Should she tell Betty and her boyfriend to flee, or would that just make them a target?

“And did you find some?”

“Yup. But I don’t know if they’ll work out. Damned barbarians if you ask me.” She insulted on purpose knowing he listened.

“What makes you say that?” Betty asked.

“Because we are,” was the gravelly response.

Knowing Thyos was nearby and seeing him were two different things. His muscled body dropped from a tree several yards away, and despite having seen his bronze skin before—having licked and touched it—it still drew the eye with its oiled perfection. He’d eschewed armor today and wore only a loincloth, a sling for his blade, and nothing else.

Betty blinked and stared, meaning Clarabelle had a sudden urge to block her view. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one bothered by Betty’s interest. Her purple guardian, who had remained silent until now, growled, “This one is mine.”

How possessive, and yet Betty didn’t appear to mind. As the warrior stepped in front of her, she patted his back. “Easy, big