Authors: Marla Therron
MORE BOOKS BY MARLA THERRON
PREVIEW OF ‘STRANDED WITH THE ALIEN ASSASSIN’ (CELESTIAL MATES BOOK 3)
Chapter One
Warmth. Something everyone always went to for comfort, to ease them in a stressful situation. As red, warm blood flowered down from the point of his blade, getting on his slender fingers, D’Anil Troga didn’t consider the feeling comforting. Then again, he hadn’t felt really
comfortable
in a very long time. The target didn’t look so comforted either, looking at him with fear and confusion in her eyes.
They were green, a pretty color, but they were losing their beauty as the life drained out of them quickly. In one smooth movement, D’Anil withdrew his blade, wiping it cleanly with a rag. The target fell to her knees, the blood seeping into her dress as her fingers clutched for her neck.
Pointless
, he thought to himself. D’Anil had given her a mercy killing, slashing deeply into the major artery on the woman’s neck. She’d be completely bled out in only a minute more. He didn’t stay to watch though. Killing wasn’t a sport to him; it was a job.
D’Anil spent only three days finding the target. He didn’t call her by her name ever. He didn’t do that for any of his jobs, only using their names when he would casually ask for them at a marketplace, or with one of the children running around on the desert streets of Dlahik.
That was how he knew where to corner this one today, how to get her into an alleyway where no one could see them. She hung up her laundry to dry outside of her window in the early afternoons. With her hands preoccupied with pinning them onto the clothesline, she didn’t even have a chance to fight him when he came up behind her, a blade to her throat.
Alem would be pleased at his speed for this one.
The assassin made his way to the justice building. Dlahik was like most cities on the planet of Imdali. It was a desert world, the planet almost too close to their sun to survive. The civilizations that existed were far apart from one another and separated by an expanse of desert.
D’Anil had lived there his entire life, never stepped foot off of the orange, sandy world he was born into. He was used to surviving, as many others of the Drunae, the people of Imdali, were. Though they had parts of their city above ground, like the justice building, most of the city was actually beneath, hiding in underground caverns.
D’Anil swiped the sweat from his brow as he reached the tall pyramid. It was made of stone, the same stone from the underground caverns, and could keep the heat out. He breathed softly as the air conditioning hit him.
The receptionist behind the desk stood up from her chair. She seemed nervous, always did whenever he arrived. D’Anil didn’t know if it was because she knew what he did for her boss, or if she still wasn’t over the fact that they’d slept together one time. She’d only mentioned the latter once, and he’d shut her down completely. D’Anil didn’t do relationships, even with pretty blondes. “Chief Nobe wasn’t expecting you back so soon, Lieutenant Troga.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “I’m not going to take that as an insult, for his sake,” he said slowly, then nodded towards the stairs. “I’ll be in there shortly, if you want to tell him to ‘expect’ me at his door within the next five minutes.” She opened her mouth but thought better, closing it again before giving a tight nod.
Alem Noble was the Head of Justice, the leader of the city of Dlahik. He was well-respected amongst his people, very popular. But they didn’t know him like D’Anil did. Alem never told him how he found him, but he did. And ever since then, he gave the soldier-turned-assassin odd jobs for large amounts of money.
Every job was completely confidential; a job that no other guard, watchmen, or soldier wanted to do. And every job was completely illegal. If anyone were to find out about the things Alem had him do, he would be out of his position and most likely tried as a criminal. Luckily, D’Anil liked money, and he could keep his lips locked tight if there was something in it for him.
“D’Anil!” the Chief greeted. Alem was an older man, his bleach blonde hair streaked with silver that shone in the fluorescent lighting of his office. He kept his hair cleaner, combed back, and his mustache trimmed. It was more presentable than D’Anil, whose dark hair was always kept shaggy from the fact that he was the one that cut it, and he often found himself too busy to deal with his facial hair, brown, bristly hairs covering his chin and cheeks.
With Alem, there was always a professionalism that D’Anil appreciated. He didn’t go for hugs or pats on the back. On the contrary, as soon as he entered the large, dark office, which was covered with photos of his family, mate and children, books, and old furniture, all Alem did next was usher him into the chair across from him at the desk. “My men just received the report of a dead body in the Outskirts, a female.”
“Are you going to have me wait for them to ID the body?” he asked.
The Chief chuckled, shaking his head as he fished in his drawer. D’Anil could hear the clinking of metal coins.
“I think we’ve worked with one another long enough that I can trust you got the job done,” he said. He tossed a red bag onto the desk, and D’Anil took it, pouring out the contents to count them. “I guess the sentiment isn’t returned.”
D’Anil didn’t even look up. “Double-checking all my bases is what you like about hiring me,” he said simply. The brunette finished his counting and gave an approving nod before he poured the coins back in. Looking up, “Three-hundred and fifty imdallions… That’s a large quantity. Meaning a higher chance of a simple miscount.”
“Well I have another opportunity for you if you’re ready,” Alem said dismissively. He kept standing, though his hand reached for something to write with, and a small piece of parchment. Because they both knew that D’Anil was ready for the next job.
“Another court case you think you’re going to lose?” he teased, arms folding over his chest, “I’m getting a little bored… Three witnesses in a row-“
“And now I have a guaranteed win.” D’Anil didn’t reply, Alem starting to sound a bit irritable. He learned that though the politician was willing to do illegal things to get himself ahead, he wasn’t exactly keen on owning up to it, even with the man he hired to do said illegal things.
“No, it’s something different to keep you interested. You won’t even have to kill anyone – most likely. If everything goes well, you’ll just be a dignified guard.”
D’Anil’s eyes narrowed. He leaned forward, putting his coin pouch in his pant pocket. “Fine, I’ll bite. What’s the job?”
The Chief cleared his throat, looking down at his desk as he started to write. “I need you to go to an old military base south of here. I can get you a transport there, no more than a day’s ride.” He was stalling, avoiding the “owning up” portion. This only made D’Anil more interested, as it meant that it was a job that he’d never done before for his employer.
“There are a few… Merchants. That you’ll be traveling with. You’re to help them secure their product and make sure they get back here unnoticed, unbothered, and with all of their products intact.”
“What’s the product?” D’Anil asked. He needed to know how difficult it was going to be to keep whatever it was away from raiders.
The Chief handed him the paper and put down the pen. He leaned back in his chair and sighed again. “Slaves, Lieutenant Troga. We have slaves coming in from all over the galaxy. They’ll be female-“
It was starting to dawn on him. D’Anil’s brow furrowed, having actually been caught by surprise. He’d been expecting some sort of weapon that they weren’t technically allowed to have, in compliance with the United Empire of the Milky Way. “You mean sex slaves.”
It wasn’t a question, definitely a statement. Everyone in the city of Dlahik knew about the sex trade. It was an ancient tradition, women being used for the pleasures of men, or even other wealthy women if their mates so allowed and they had the money for it. The sex trade was its own underground society, part of the dark underbelly of the city that everyone chose to ignore, including the Chief himself.
“Yes,” Alem carried on, then eyed D’Anil, “The market has since reached outside of our planet, giving into other people’s… Tastes. As such, there’s more than one group you may have to look for. I was told by one of the smugglers that some of the other planets are starting to catch on. If they find out what’s going on-“
“It could lead to a war with only us fighting for ourselves,” D’Anil finished for him, “And the expulsion from the United Empire.”
“Without the Empire’s support, we’d go back to how things were before, when thousands of us died in the summers. We can’t go back to that.”
The brunette alien nodded, processing the information. “Price?”
“The smugglers offered 1,000 imdallions if you make sure that everyone gets there safely, the auctions run smoothly, and you swear to secrecy.” Alem cleared his throat again and offered a shrug. “You’re also invited to try out any of the products for yourself along the way – it’s a long trip, after all.”
He didn’t plan on trying the merchandise. The slaves that he’d seen were dirty-looking, and he didn’t trust them not to turn on him, even if it meant certain death for them. But the money was just about three times what he’d made in the past month going after witnesses that Alem wanted taken out. In fact, it was the biggest pay he’d make if he took the job.
D’Anil looked at the paper given to him, the name of the base he was going to and a short list of directions. “I’ll do it.”
Chapter Two
“I will
kill
them!” Her voice was thickly accented, and it took four days to figure out where it was from. And Jayne only knew because the woman had to tell her herself. In fact, once she told everyone who she was, she never really stopped. “They do not know who I am! My people will not let Meta Vani die!”
There was more banging on the thick, metal door of her cell. Jayne tried to tune her out, tilting her head back to rest against the wall. Jayne Mannet should have never been there. And yet, there she was. Her arms were covered in bruises. Her fingers brushed over the ones that made a handprint. She knew where that one was from, from the aliens that first brought her in, put a bag over her head and shoved her into darkness, where she’d been sitting ever since.
There was only one dim, blue light in that room, just enough to make out her surroundings. As she listened to Meta Vani yell, the Earth woman made a silent vow that she was going to bring revenge to her abusers.
“They’re not going to listen to you,” a girl sniffled. She was on the bunk below Jayne. In total, there were normally four per group, but the captain had taken a liking to the other girl that was with them, a type of alien Jayne had never seen before with red-tinted skin and covered in scales. They hadn’t done any introductions, but she knew Meta Vani simply from her loud mouth, and she called the girl below her the Crying Girl. “They’ll just kill you!”
In the darkness, Jayne watched Meta turn on the Crying Girl and hiss. She, too, was a creature that Jayne had never seen. She didn’t do much traveling across the galaxy though. Meta had yellow eyes that looked like a snake’s, her skin a light shade of olive green.
She was tall and slender, a lithe body. Jayne expected she was very athletic, which fit from what else she knew. From her continued threats and shouts, Meta revealed herself as the princess of some hunting tribe.
Jayne was no warrior princess, and she would probably lose the fight, but she stood in between her two cell mates, hands blocking any access to the Crying Girl. “Hey!” Jayne said, “Don’t turn this around on her. They
want
us to turn on each other, okay? Stay angry at the ones that put you in here.”
“How is that going to help?” the Crying Girl asked, sniffling before she let out another sob. “I want my mum and dad…”
Jayne frowned and turned to the Crying Girl. Meta Vani scoffed at the weakness and went back to the door. Sitting down on her bed, Jayne reached out a hand to touch the girl gently. She jerked away at first, but her need to be comforted by someone else won out.
Though it was dark, Jayne could see the Crying Girl was young. And beautiful. She had long, straight, red hair that fell down to her waist, long legs, though she wasn’t even close to Meta’s height. But the Crying Girl was definitely from Earth. She was thrown in with Jayne. “How old are you?” Jayne asked.
The Crying Girl sat up a little, wiping at her nose in vain to get rid of the snot. “Eighteen,” she answered, “I just celebrated my birthday with my family three weeks ago.”
“I’m Jayne. I’m 26.”
“Sophie. My name is Sophie.”
Jayne smiled. She was crying a little less now that she was getting some attention. She and Meta Vani were a bit similar, Jayne noted. They just wanted to be heard right now, though they had some different methods of getting it done. “I know this sounds impossible, but I’m going to get us back home,” she vowed, “I promise.”
Meta stopped her pounding and turned to the other two women, her arms crossed over her chest. “And how you expect that to happen?” she asked in broken English.