Valiant Alien Tailor Read online

  Valiant Alien Tailor

  A Sci-Fi Alien Fairy Tale Romance

  Zara Zenia

  Illustrated by

  Natasha Snow

  Edited by

  Elizabeth A Lance

  Copyright © 2019 by Zara Zenia

  All rights reserved.

  Cover design by Natasha Snow Designs

  Edited by Elizabeth A Lance

  Proofread by Cheryl Maddox

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the authors’ imagination.

  Contents

  VIP Reader Club

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  About Zara Zenia

  Also by Zara Zenia

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  Chapter 1

  Lortnam

  I lost my faith at the beginning of the fourth autumn. By the transition from winter to spring, it was gone entirely. It took Jinurak, my twin, by surprise. Of the two of us, I was the more even tempered. It wasn’t unusual for me to be the last to voice support, but once I did, I rarely withdrew it. Jinurak had counted on that stability more than once over the years. He couldn’t sway me easily, but once he had, I was an ally to the end.

  Until the beginning of the fourth autumn, when I couldn’t ignore my instincts any longer. When even the imperative to find a mate couldn’t convince me to turn a blind eye to the evidence in front of my eyes.

  "Prince...Lortnam?" The small woman's crimson lips hovered somewhere between a smile and a grimace. The deep crimson stain on her pale cheeks could be embarrassment or the stinging cold air of Baltimore.

  Her soft lilt pulled me from my troubled thoughts. A thin scent of metal polluted the expensive perfume she wore, turning it into something not attractive, but less grating on my senses.

  "I'm Rachel," she said, finally smoothing her lips up at the corners.

  From the way she looked at me, I could tell she expected more. Perhaps she expected me to be taller or more athletic, the carriage of a proper warrior as my older and younger brothers had.

  Or perhaps the disappointment in her eyes had a loftier source. My twin was a brilliant tactician and he applied that skill as ruthlessly to the economy of our Island as our ancestors would have on the battle field.

  We’d been on this planet long enough for me to learn the history of the land beneath my palace. It took its name from a lesser noble of another land, a brilliant fool who crossed a vast unknown in hope of finding more. These people worshiped titles and conquerors.

  "A pleasure to meet you, Rachel." I could only hope my tone didn’t disagree. In truth, I’d have given my title and lands to not have this meeting.

  I understood her surprise. On those storied, blood-soaked fields, I would have been a staff sergeant. My twin could hone in on a new market like a bird of prey in flight— the modern version of piercing enemy lines. Me? I could get out supplies from behind a blockade. A useful set of skills, to be sure, but nobody sang epics of city administrators.

  Rachel cleared her throat and leaned back. This performance wasn’t meant for me, of course. It was meant for the version of me she expected to meet that night. The strong, fearsome warrior from the stars, ready and willing to whisk her away on a durasteel steed for a new adventure.

  I hated space travel. Too many travelers in the ports, no matter how early or late my departure in local time. Too many servants onboard eager to leave a good impression. One day I would establish a proper household of my own where they might serve in a higher role. The solitude of my own palace, my own library, was too far away for comfort.

  Wars, whether in the past or in the far reaches of the galaxy, didn't interest me. Jinurak was closer to a soldier than I was. I belonged because I looked like him. Since we were young, his voice had always risen above mine, drowning it to a whisper until people confused them.

  To improve our odds of finding mates, my brothers dreamed up a series of classes on Trilyn culture. A brief primer to seed our future wives and allies alike. An intimate event less likely to attract fortune and fame hunters than those damned parties. As the more even-tempered brother— and therefore least likely to insult the Humans or break the furniture if I lost the argument —I was the easiest choice.

  The smile returned to her lips as she recovered from the little shock. "Is it your Majesty, your Highness, or your Grace? There’s been some confusion."

  I shook my head, hoping she took the gesture as a correction rather than the expression of boredom it was. A file thick as my three fingers had been sent to her when my assistant scheduled the lecture. The answer to her question was on the first page, in more detail than anyone would ever care to know. Now I knew she hadn’t read it.

  "In an informal situation as this, your Highness is fine if you won’t use my name." I tilted my chin down, pausing to use my piercing gaze to my advantage. "And I prefer you use my name."

  The expression always caught the Human’s attention. How they responded depended on what cues the rest of my body gave. For her, I relaxed my shoulders and clasped my hands behind my back.

  My brothers were right to send me. I would do my best not to offend the Humans or take advantage of them. Rawklix would have hit on all the women and seduced them all into bed whether they were his mate or not. So far, Gardax, Darbnix, Manzar, and Akrawn had been blessed by fate. They'd found mates, in some cases in spite of the blasted scanners. I had no such hope for myself. How could I find a mate here?

  The crimson lipped woman, Rachel, led me down the hall to the conference room. I took a breath and let the frustration flow away from me with each step. Poor Rachel and the Human staff were doing my family a favor. She wasn't the source of my frustrations. That lay miles away from the cultural center, in a palace of his own and the others in a laboratory under heavy guard.

  The genetic scanners had started the argument. They would be our salvation... if they ever worked again. For now, their only purpose was the origin of a running argument between my brother and me. It was the longest we had gone without speaking since childhood. I wasn't ashamed to admit I missed him. Well... I wouldn't have been ashamed to admit it to him if he were speaking to me.

  "I'm sorry the crowd is so small," Rachel whispered as we approached the door. "We posted fliers and bought ads, but we haven't quite figured out the targeting yet."

  Two dozen Humans sat in the conference room. If Rachel thought this group small, I shuddered to think how many attendees she had hoped for. The gray plastic chairs beneath them creaked each time one of them fidgeted, filling the room with a rapid series of squeaks and clicks. The thin brown carpet in the room did nothing to muffle the sound.

  She looked at me with expectant eyes. Several seconds of tense silence passed before I realized she expected me t
o acknowledge her accomplishment or encourage her in some way.

  I forced a smile to my lips and fumbled for the right words. "Your efforts are more than sufficient. I have every confidence the next event will garner more interest."

  Again, the corner of her lips fell, assuring me my attempt had missed the mark. My attempts to please the Humans always missed the mark.

  I stepped up to the small wooden podium at the front of the room, grimacing at how little of my body the item covered. To the Humans, it seemed to convey authority by concealing the lecturer's body from view. This small pile of sticks only hid my notes. If I couldn't rely on authority, my only option was charm. That was Rawklix's specialty.

  And tonight it has to be mine.

  My brothers were counting on this. I was counting on it. If the genetic scanners were as useless as I suspected them now to be, we'd have to find other ways to identify which Human women could be compatible. The others might still find their mates at parties, but I needed a venue more suited to my talents.

  "Friends, guests, honored liaisons. My name is Prince Lortnam of Trilyn and I rule the continent of Norna." I paused to glance at the audience.

  There wasn't a friendly face among them. Two red-haired Human men at the back of the room exchanged glances. One nodded to the other, then turned his gray eyes back toward me. Whatever judgement had been passed, they settled back in their seats without moving. I continued.

  "Thank you for joining me on this cold night. I bring you the greetings of my people, but most especially of their Highnesses the Princes, who wish they could be here to regale you with tales of our home world and our culture. Alas, to accept a position of leadership in our society is to accept a sacred duty. One which cannot be put aside, not even for such attractive company as this—"

  The ground beneath my feet rumbled, distracting from my speech. Seven cars in the parking lot erupted into a ball of fire and glass. It shattered the windows, filling the room with a wave of roaring heat. The attendees closest to the windows scrambled away, clutching their ears and screaming in surprise.

  I grabbed Rachel by the arm and ducked behind the podium. My body shielded her. The thin plywood covered me. Screams of terror and fear rose over the alarms. Taking a chance, I glanced around the edge of our hiding spot. The guests pushed toward the door, desperate to flee for safety. But two figures blocked their path. Both of them were armed with powerful firearms, their faces flushed to match their flaming red hair.

  They barely caught my notice before, but now I looked at the men with fresh eyes. Their features were mushed in the same sour fashion. A smaller frame and stature marked the one with the bigger weapon as the younger of the two. He was the one that caught my attention. The one who nodded as I began my speech. His eyes swept over the crowd, a thin smile spreading over his lips. If there was a leader, it had to be him.

  But it was the younger man who spoke.

  "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," he shouted. "This evening's entertainment has been tossed in the shitter in favor of a healthy dose of truth! The Trilyn menace—"

  Another wave of shouts rose from the crowd. This time disbelief colored the screams of panic. They pushed forward, desperate to break past the men. The older man pulled a handgun from his jacket. Raising it toward the ceiling, he fired until the crowd shrank back. I slid back behind the podium.

  A new voice filled the silence. "Like he said, it's time for a dose of truth. There's no use trying to get out. We planned for that. And, your Worship, I would suggest you get comfortable, too. This building is wired to explode."

  Some in the crowd gasped in horror. Rachel pressed her face into my chest. Her body trembled. I pulled her closer, hooking a finger beneath her chin and lifting her eyes to meet mine. With a finger to my lips, I gestured for her to be silent, waiting until the leader resumed his lecture to question the weeping woman.

  "Could he be telling the truth?" I whispered.

  She pulled a tissue from her pocket, dabbing her eyes with it. "They're...they're volunteers. The Corbin brothers."

  I looked down at the Human woman in disbelief. My gaze must have been too intense, because she shrank away from it, even though seconds before my chest had been her safe haven.

  "Tell me you didn't give unrestricted access to men whose backgrounds you never checked. Tell me you didn't put a Prince of the Trilyn royal household in a room with them, Rachel, and make me believe you." To hell with pleasantries.

  She opened her crimson lips quickly then closed them again. The admission was a step too far. Instead she shifted her eyes away from me, shaking her head. "I can't."

  "Now, we're not unreasonable men," the lead terrorist continued. There was no other word for men who inspired such intense emotion. "What we are is patriots. The last true patriots. Defenders of Mother Earth and all she represents. And we will not see her used as a consolation breeding ground for a half extinct race."

  "Survival of the fittest!" the younger one shouted in agreement.

  Whether the brothers were lying about the building being wired to explode or if Rachel and her team had given them the chance to accomplish the deadly mission didn't matter. We should never have deferred to Human law enforcement for security. It should have been trusted to Trilyn warriors. Humans couldn't protect themselves. How could we rely on them to protect us?

  As if on cue, wailing sirens approached the building. A titter of anticipation filtered through the few guests who weren't crying in fear or silent from shock. Humans had been taught those sirens meant help was soon to arrive. They'd been taught where those sirens went, justice and peace couldn't be far behind. I knew better.

  Another intergalactic incident was playing out on the other side of my plywood hiding spot and it revolved around one being in that room, me. For the terrorists or hostages to die was tragic, but an Earth matter. For me to die, that could destroy treaties four years in the making. Treaties that had already been put at risk by my brothers, through no fault of their own. And now me. I’d thought perhaps things were getting better, but it seemed I was wrong.

  I knew if the Human police breached the building, the hostages could die in the chaos. If my security team attempted to intervene or I rushed the brothers down, it would be the same result, but the blood would be on my people's hands. On my hands. Coward that I was, I owed my life to my people. I owed my allegiance to my brothers. I couldn't hide. I couldn't fight. I had only one option. Run.

  "We cannot stay here, Rachel of Baltimore," I whispered to her. "Is there another exit?"

  She stared at me first in confusion then in disbelief. "You're not seriously going to leave them behind?" Her voice dripped with disapproval, eyes sweeping over my arms and thick hands as if she expected me to use them to beat the Corbin brothers into submission.

  Me, an administrator of an island on another planet. A foreign Prince who had more in common with Baron Baltimore than either the terrorists or the law enforcement officers. They both fought for their version of justice, however warped it might be. Baron Baltimore and I were the logistic men.

  I knew my position in the galaxy. I’d had years to come to terms with it. Coming to Earth to find a mate forced me to admit it to myself. But that look in Rachel's eyes? I would never get used to that. That faint glimmer of disappointment when she realized if fairy tale Princes existed, I certainly wasn't one of them.

  "What I mean to do is avoid triggering an incident that could lead to devastation for your people on a global scale." I leaned forward, gritting my teeth and letting my nostrils flair. Only my broad chest and my cold eyes were visible to Rachel. "As it happens, my death is the trigger. If you want to live, I suggest you point me to the exit, and when the time comes, stay close to me."

  She swallowed hard as she struggled to hold my gaze. For a few seconds, I had become more frightening than the terrorists on the other side of the room, if only because I might leave her to her fate. It gave me no pleasure to manipulate Rachel in such a fashion, but I couldn't h
ave her questioning my judgement. For both our sakes, she had to believe I would leave her behind.

  A voice from a loudspeaker outside filtered into the room. "This is the Baltimore Police. We have the building surrounded! Come out with your weapons holstered and your hands in the air."

  "That's gonna be a problem, piggy!" the younger brother shouted back. "The whole building is our weapon. Kaboom!"

  Rachel trembled in my arms again. My stomach churned as I pulled her closer. Corbin the Younger took far too much pleasure in repeating the words for them to be a lie.

  "The back exit," I whispered rapidly. "Now, Rachel of Baltimore!"

  Rachel lowered her head in defeat and pointed to a spot on the wall. Like the rest of the room, the section Rachel pointed to had been painted in two shades of gray, divided in the center by a piece of decorative white wood. But this section was separated from the rest of the wall by two dark gray lines. Lines which I now recognized to be the empty space on either side of a secret door.

  "The palace staff insisted there be a way out of the room that wasn't obvious," Rachel whispered. A wave of relief washed over me. That part of the file, at least, she read thoroughly. "But the Corbin brothers know about it too."

  "This is your final warning," the voice on the loudspeaker called back. "Come out with your hands up!"