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  Even now, she could peer out of her room’s high window and see the shimmering water below, flashing aquamarine in the sunlight. The planet had one sun—but it was redder and smaller than the Earth’s sun—and four moons, which meant it never seemed to get fully dark at night if they were full.

  The alien planet felt almost like being transported back in time, and seemed less alien than the Drexian space station—which had been her first encounter with alien habitats. That place had been sleek and white, and had elevators that went sideways, and holographic suites that made it seem like she was on the African savannah. Aliens with horns and tails, purple-skinned creatures, and huge Drexian warriors had been a lot to take in. But she hadn’t had too long to be freaked out by that before they were under attack, and she’d been hurried into an escape shuttle by Serge. Then they’d been intercepted and captured by the Ganthar pirates.

  So, all in all, Spartos had seemed the least foreign place. At first.

  The raw beauty of the planet was distracting enough that she didn’t pay too much attention to the fact that everyone on the planet seemed to be way too happy. And way too touchy-feely for her liking, as well.

  The Spartosians looked relatively human, with skin that shimmered a silvery white the only obvious sign that they weren’t. From what she could tell, they were all blondes too—from platinum to honey to strawberry. An impressive feat that made her wonder just how much intermarrying went on. She’d seen a few other types of aliens, but they all worked for the Spartosians ,and were not considered full citizens.

  “Look on the bright side.” She put a hand on Serge’s shoulder. “At least we’re not being held in that cell anymore.”

  “You’re right about that.” Serge peeked at her from under one draped arm. “Those Ganthar pirates were not pleasant.” He nibbled the corner of his lip. “You don’t think Reina’s still there, do you?”

  Madeleine hadn’t gotten the chance to get to know the Vexling liaison well before they’d been abducted and forced into separate cells, but she knew from all the stories Serge had told her that the woman was his best friend. He spent equal amounts of time complaining about her and worrying about what might have happened to her.

  “Maybe she got rescued. You did say the Drexians would be coming after us.”

  Serge straightened, his face brightening. “I’m sure she did. She’d probably back on the station right now.” His smile fell. “You don’t suppose she’s planning weddings without me, do you? No. She’d never do that, would she?”

  Madeleine didn’t have the chance to respond before Serge had leapt from the chair and taken up pacing around the room. “She’d better not have moved on without me. She doesn’t know the first thing about pulling together all those details. I make it look easy, but I assure you, it’s not.” He stamped one small foot. “Reina, you’d better not think you can take my place, you Vexling hussy.” He directed his final words skyward, as though speaking to Reina directly.

  Madeleine raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure she’s not taking your place.”

  “What if she’s already planned all the weddings?” He threw his hands into the air. “What if there’s nothing for me to do by the time I get back?’

  “She can’t have planned all the weddings. I’m still stuck here with you.”

  Serge let out a breath. “That’s right. She can’t plan your wedding without you, can she?“ Serge stopped and studied her. “Although, to be honest, I didn’t think you were excited about the whole tribute-bride program.”

  To be honest, she wasn’t. The idea of being taken from Earth to be assigned a big, alien warrior to marry just because the Drexians had stopped producing women had not impressed her. She didn’t care that the Drexians were badasses who, in exchange for brides, protected Earth from vicious aliens who wanted to destroy it. Even if the plan was approved of by Earth governments, she didn’t have to go along with it.

  “You aren’t going to insist on being one of the rejects, are you?” Serge asked in a hushed voice, as if it was too horrible to say at full volume.

  He’d told her about the humans who rejected their matches and lived in a bare-bones section of the station. As much as she wasn’t crazy about being a mail-order bride for aliens, that hadn’t appealed, either.

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do, but if I ever get married, I promise that you’ll be the one to plan my wedding.”

  That seemed to mollify Serge. He smiled at her, then tapped a finger on his chin. “And do you give me carte blanche as far as the design?”

  “Don’t push it.”

  “Fine.” Serge folded his arms over his chest and tilted his head at her. “What do you think about a mermaid silhouette for your wedding gown? Or a slip dress? You’re one of the few who could pull that off. Narrow hips, perky breasts, slim legs. It’s like you were made for it. And with your fabulous skin color, you could pull off pure white. What do they call you on Earth?”

  Maddie couldn’t be offended by the Gatazoid’s frank assessment of her body or her skin color since the alien appraised everyone this way. “Asian-American. Half, at least.”

  Serge nodded as if he knew what this meant. “Well, you’re divine, sweetie. I can’t wait to get you into a wedding gown.”

  “I’d take anything over this.” Madeleine returned her glare to her current attire. “And what are we supposed to be doing here anyway? They never told us on the way here. I got the idea we were supposed to be working, but what kind of job can I do in this?”

  Serge’s perfectly arched brows shot skyward. “I can think of a few things.”

  “These Spartosians are going to be in for the surprise of their life if they try something like that. I didn’t take years of kickboxing for nothing.”

  “Remember, Madeleine,” Serge said, forgetting her nickname again. “We’re guests on this planet. You can’t go around beating up the natives.”

  “I can if they try anything funny.”

  Serge wrung his hands, reminding her of the Vexling who was his best friend. “We don’t know the rules of their society yet, and considering what I’ve heard about them, I don’t think we should assume that they have the same boundaries we do.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “I thought you’d never met one of these aliens before.”

  “I haven’t, I mean, hadn’t. They never leave their planet. They’re notoriously xenophobic.”

  “Okay, that’s good to know. What else have you heard?”

  Serge looked at his feet, his shoulders twitching.

  “Serge?”

  “Just that they’re not big on trade or commerce. They’re known for other things.” His hair had flushed pink again.

  “What other things?”

  Serge rubbed his palms on the front of his jumpsuit. “If the rumors are true, they care more about a good time.”

  She blinked at him a few times. “What does that mean? They believe in four-day workweeks and lighting up a joint? Are you telling me they’re European?”

  “More like hedonists,” Serge mumbled so low she could barely make out the words.

  “Did you say hedonist?” Madeleine wasn’t even sure what that meant, exactly. It sounded a bit like an alternative-lifestyle resort, where clothing was optional and room keys were passed around like Tic-Tacs. It would explain the ridiculously revealing clothing.

  “Promise me you won’t go around kickboxing anyone who looks at you,” Serge said. “We won’t be here forever. I promise you the Drexians will find us and get us out of here, but they can’t rescue us if we aren’t alive.”

  She had intended to argue with him, but his words stopped her cold. “You think they would kill us?”

  “I don’t know. All I do know is that they don’t like outsiders or anyone who challenges them, so if we want to survive, I suggest we don’t make waves.”

  Madeleine almost groaned. Making waves had been her MO for a long time. If you’d asked any of her friends, they would have said she was a s
erious adrenaline junkie who did not take shit from anyone. Going along to get along had never been one of her strengths. Then again, she’d never been trapped on an alien planet before, so maybe she needed to try harder. If not for herself, at least for the nervous Gatazoid who’d been by her side for weeks.

  “Just for you,” she told him. “I’m not afraid of these Spartosians, but I’ll behave for your sake.”

  Serge let out a loud sigh. “You don’t know how happy that makes me, sweetie. And mark my words, the Drexians will get us out of here in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

  She almost laughed. His fondness for Earth sayings had grown on her, but it still surprised her each time he came up with one.

  Before she could comment, the door to her room swung open, and a female Spartosian in an outfit similar to her own bustled in, stopping short when she saw Serge in her room. “Oh, you’re together.”

  Serge’s room was across the hall and the doors hadn’t been locked, so they’d been going back and forth since they’d arrived the day before.

  Crossing her arms over her chest, Maddie gave her a look. “Is that a problem?”

  Serge elbowed her, but the blonde didn’t seem to take notice of her sharp tone or Serge’s jab.

  “No problem.” Her voice was almost sing-song as she set down a tray on the low table between the chairs, her legs flashing as the high-cut skirt swirled around them. “I was told to bring you the medicine before you’re summoned.”

  Madeleine didn’t know which to question first—the medicine or being summoned, but Serge beat her to it.

  “Neither of us are ill,” he said.

  The woman giggled, putting a hand over her mouth. “Not yet, you aren’t.

  Well, that wasn’t creepy at all. Maddie exchanged a glance with Serge as the woman pointed to the small bowl containing two blue pills between two glasses filled with pink liquid.

  “The pills prevent radiation sickness.”

  Serge pressed a hand to his heart and glanced around as if there was nuclear matter hidden somewhere in the room. “Radiation?

  “Spartos has high levels of radiation leaking from its core. That’s why everyone has to take a pill.” Her voice was so perky it sounded like she was leading a tour at Disney World. “If you don’t, your hair will fall out and you’ll get deathly ill.”

  “Oh, good heavens. Bald would not be a good look for me. No, thank you.” Serge lunged for the pills, fumbling with the pink juice as he swallowed down a blue pill and chased it with a huge gulp.

  Madeleine took the other pill he handed her, putting it into her mouth and taking a more measured sip of the overly sweet juice.

  The woman smiled and picked up the tray with the now-empty bowl and glasses. “You’re both going to be very happy here. Spartos is the most wonderful planet in the galaxy.” She beamed at them both. “You’ll see.”

  She left without closing the door, and Serge patted both hands to his head. “I don’t know how I can be happy with the looming threat of hairlessness. Let’s just hope those pills do their job or the Drexians get here before there’s any lasting damage.”

  Maddie spit her blue pill out into her open palm, and Serge’s mouth fell open.

  “I’ve been a paramedic for almost five years,” she said, eying the blue capsule. “No way am I taking some pill that I know nothing about.”

  Serge clamped his mouth shut. “Well, isn’t this just perfect? I’m going to have my first ever bald bride. Consider yourself lucky that you have a good head for hats, sweetie.”

  Chapter Three

  “I still don’t think you should go down alone.” Brok’s first officer walked shoulder to shoulder with him toward the hangar bay, voicing his concerns about the solo mission—and not for the first time since the captain had announced his plan.

  They passed through the open double doors and into the hangar bay, where several fighters and a pair of shuttlecraft sat in an even line facing the open mouth leading into space. The hulls of the ship were stormy-gray, the dark outer plating part of the ships’ stealth shielding technology.

  “I appreciate your concern, Kalex,” Brok said, “but it has to be a solo mission.”

  “Why does it have to be you?”

  It was a good question, and one Captain Brok could not answer honestly without revealing his personal compulsion to save the tribute bride. He knew it was not protocol for an Inferno Force captain to lead an away mission, especially a solo one, but he also knew he would be unable to wait onboard the ship while another warrior went after the female. Although he’d never met her, he felt responsible for Madeleine. She was his to protect, and his to rescue, even if it was only to return her to the Boat so she could be matched up with a Drexian warrior who wasn’t him.

  “You do not appreciate your promotion?” He thumped a hand on his first-officer’s shoulder, grinning at him.

  Kalex frowned. “You know I do not wish to become an Inferno Force captain this way.”

  Brok squeezed the officer’s shoulder briefly then let it go. “I will return soon, and with our tribute and Gatazoid. In the meantime, you have your orders.”

  Kalex nodded, his mouth still locked in a frown. “Keep the ship above the planet’s atmosphere and away from their patrols. Stay in stealth mode until I receive your transmission.”

  Brok slapped his hand on the side of the smallest shuttle and the entrance ramp slowly lowered. “Do not worry about me. I have been in tougher scrapes than this.”

  His first officer did not look convinced. “Battling Kronock is one thing. Playing the spy is another.”

  Kalex had a point. Brok was not a trained intelligence officer. He was a captain used to battle and accustomed to open warfare. Subterfuge and deception did not come easily to him.

  “If I am lucky, I will find the female and Gatazoid before I need to test my undercover skills.”

  “And if you are not lucky?”

  He took in the warrior with his arms folded tightly across his chest. “Then let’s hope I can make a convincing Spartosian.”

  “Captain!”

  Both Brok and Kalex turned to see a Drexian with brown hair tied up into a topknot approaching.

  “Vekron,” Brok said, pleased to see his security chief, but hoping the warrior was not there to caution him, as well.

  The Drexian held out an open palm when he reached them, revealing a small, square device. “Take this.”

  Brok picked it up and twisted it in his hand. “And it is…?”

  “Something I have been working on in my off time,” Vekron said. “Something that could help you on the surface.”

  Brok cocked an eyebrow at him. He knew the security chief had a talent for developing and improving technology. He might look like a typical Inferno Force warrior—tattoos covering one muscular bicep and part of his chest and several days’ worth of rough stubble covering his cheeks—but he had the brain of a scientist. He’d tinkered with their ship’s systems on more than one occasion, which was why their ship’s sensors were more highly tuned than other Inferno Force battleships, and why their shields were stronger.

  “It’s a personal stealth shielding device.” Vekron cleared his throat. “It operates on the same principles as our shielding technology, but without the special hull panels, obviously.”

  Kalex stared at the device. “Are you saying that this will make him…?”

  “Invisible.” One side of Vekron’s mouth quirked up. He rocked back on his heels, grinning, clearly pleased with his invention.

  “And it works?” Brok asked, studying the warrior and noticing dark circles under his eyes. So, this was why he looked so ragged.

  “In all my tests so far, yes. This would be the first mission test, though.”

  Brok nodded. Being able to cloak himself would make moving around the city of Spartos a much easier feat. Even if it didn’t work perfectly, it was better than nothing. “How long have you been working on this?”

  Vekron shifted from one foot
to the other, dropping his gaze. “Quite a while, sir. I have always known it was possible, but it was just a matter of bending light the right way.” He looked up quickly. “But I never let my side project interfere with my duty shifts.”

  “I know you didn’t.” The captain turned the small device over in his hand. “Well done. I’ve always said our Inferno Force warriors are more than just muscles and might.”

  “Thank you, captain.” Vekron threw his shoulders back.

  Brok clapped him on the arm. “Of course, you know that if this works like you say it does, you will need to share your technology with the entire Drexian fleet.”

  “Yes, sir.” Vekron glanced at the device again. “Oh—be sure to keep it attached to you at all times for it to work best. I believe that it will also cloak another person if you are very close, or an object that you are holding.”

  Brok nodded. “And I activate it by…?”

  Vekron pointed to the small button on top. “Just press that each time.”

  “Like this?” He flicked his thumb over the button, looking down as his body disappeared. It was surreal to look down where he’d been and see nothing.

  Kalex sucked in a breath, but did not make any other sound of shock. Vekron grinned even more widely.

  When Brok pressed the button again, his body reappeared, and he let out a breath. “I think this is going to come in handy.”

  “I hope so, sir,” Vekron said.

  Brok hooked it onto his waistband next to the universal device that handled comms and scans, and would be able to home in on Madeleine and Serge’s trackers. He put his fist to his chest in salute to both warriors.

  “Be careful, Captain,” Kalex warned again. “Even with the device, you will be the first Drexian to set foot on Spartos.”

  He nodded before striding up the ramp of the shuttle.

  Walking quickly to the cockpit of the shuttle, he tried to brush aside his officer’s concern. The Drexian was correct that the mission was more sensitive than any they’d undertaken before. And it was a first-contact situation, which had its own set of rules. Their usual brawn and brash response would not work, which was another reason he was taking it on personally.