Renall (Revant Warriors) (A Sc-Fi Alien Abduction Romance) Read online

  Table of Contents

  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:

   Copyright 2017 by Celeste Raye - All rights reserved.

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

  Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

  Table of Contents

  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:

  About the Author

  Your Exclusive Prequel Bonus

  Renall

  Revant Warriors

  (A Sci Fi Alien Abduction Romance)

  By Celeste Raye

  Chapter 1:

  Clara Waters stood at the bow of the spaceship, her eyes fastened on the world outside that window. The same misgivings she’d had back on Earth came flooding in.

  This was insane. She couldn’t possibly be on a spaceship flying to a lonely planet as a mail-order bride. She’d hated flying in air planes; the thought of being so far above the ground had never been one she’d liked, but now she was literally hurtling through space, passing by small asteroids and planets cloaked in jewel-like colors.

  “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

  Clara looked over at Margie Jones. She had fiery red hair, a porcelain complexion, and a habit of biting her full bottom lip so that it puffed up in a very attractive way. Margie added, “But I’d say it’s way too late to change my mind. We arrive in three days.”

  Clara looked back at the window. Her reflection looked back. Her jet-black hair hung to the waist of the baggy flight suit. Her face, a long oval filled with long-lidded blue eyes and high cheekbones, didn’t show the fear she felt. Why would it? She’d always been good at hiding her emotions. She’d had to be.

  Clara said, “It won’t be so bad.” I hope.

  Margie asked, “Do you think they’ll be hideous?”

  Clara didn’t have to ask whom Margie meant. “No, we’ve seen them before, remember? They’re nearly human in appearance. Well, except for the third arm and the pointy heads, but that’s small stuff.” She thought, Or not. I mean c’mon, a fucking third arm? I don’t know if I can stomach it, really but what else could I do? “I don’t know about you, but if I hadn’t gotten on the ship I would’ve had to do life, and that was in a serio-max. So this is way preferable.”

  Margie chuckled. “What did you do, anyway?”

  Clara said, “My folks were carders. They had a big op running down on the Under Levels below Old Toronto. I ran a few tables for them and I got caught.”

  Margie’s eyes widened. “You’re lucky they didn’t send you to serio-max without giving you the choice to do this. If you got caught with real currency that’s…that’s as bad as murder.”

  She had been caught with currency, thousands of coins and bills. Her lips tightened. “I wouldn’t have gotten caught; none of us would if it hadn’t been for…” She paused. A lacerating pain hit her chest.

  She’d trusted James, and she’d loved him too. He’d betrayed her and her entire family, and now she was on her way to an alien planet, and her family was stuck in cells. It was all her fault, and she knew it. She should never have broken that first rule of carding—never trust anyone, especially someone you love.

  Clara cleared her throat. “How about you?”

  Margie sighed. “I had a bad work record and was declared a bad citizen. They gave me two choices: come and be a bride or be declared unproductive.”

  In other words, Margie’s choices were between being killed in a government-sanctioned ‘sleep facility’ or marrying an alien on the under-populated outer colonies. Clara said, “I guess you made the best of a bad situation.”

  Ariel, a tall and elegant blonde with tanned skin and a trim athletic figure, came toward the two. She said, “What’re you guys talking about?”

  Margie said, “How we got here.”

  Clara asked, “How did you get here?”

  Ariel twirled a strand of hair around one slender finger. “I got sold off for my family’s debt to the government. Lucky me, I’m the pretty sister. Nobody even asked if maybe my parents and grandparents, who ran up the debt, wanted to get sold. It just came down to me whether I liked it or not since all debt’s inherited. It would have been my debt any way they looked at it, and so—here I am. But don’t, for a single second, think I’m happy about this.”

  Margie gave Ariel a sympathetic look and said; “I think a few other women on here are onboard over inherited debt too.”

  Clara looked away. Guilt hit, weakening her knees and sending fresh pain into her chest and heart. If it was possible to buy her family out of those cells, she’d do it in a second, even if it meant marrying a Centipedal from one of the hostile planets to the far left of the system they flew through. Nothing would get her family back, and it was all her fault.

  Her eyes closed. James’ handsome face swarmed up. Auburn hair over a high forehead, a slight dusting of freckles across his wide nose, a mouth made for kissing.

  And a heart made to turn over his lover’s family to the government in order to curry favor and get out of the Base-Level Tenements and into a nice flat above the ground.

  Bastard.

  She really hoped the ground below his nice new living quarters cratered and toppled and killed his sorry, betraying ass straight dead.

  The crew came to life with a suddenness that startled Clara. She and the others gawked as crewmembers, galvanized by something the three women couldn’t see, dashed by.

  The loud clang of sirens rang out. Clara, used to danger, reacted by shouting, “They’re running, so we should be too!”

  Ariel’s mouth hung open. Margie, obviously blessed with a sense of self-preservation, took off at a dead run. Clara grabbed Ariel’s arm. “Come on!”

  Red lights flashed. A low grating sound ran through the ship. Ariel, her pretty face crumpling, asked, “What’s happening?”

  “Run!” Clara’s fingers clamped down more tightly on Ariel’s arm. Her feet moved, and after a moment, Ariel’s did too. They staggered and ran down the hallways. A loud clanking noise rose above the din created by the sirens. Crewmembers ran on, their faces shocked and frightened.

  Clara thought, Oh, it just figures! I hate flying, and now I’m going to die in a spaceship that must be crashing or something!

  Panting, her feet sliding along the slick floors, Clara kept going. Her survival instincts kicked in. An inner voice told her to leave Ariel, who was just holding her back. Once upon a time she might have, but she wasn’t on the Under-Levels where life was cheap and saving one’s self was something everyone was taught from
an early age.

  The other women crowded near the pods, their faces showing their fear. A few shouting crewmembers pushed and shoved at them, thrusting them back toward the door of the pods.

  Clara balked. “What if we get trapped in there? What if there’s a fire or something?”

  It wouldn’t matter. Her heart sank, as she understood that. If the ship was crashing, the pods couldn’t save them, only the small escape ships could: the escape ships that were on the other end of the ship. Anger hit. She shouted, “The escape ships!”

  The crewmembers kept pushing, but a few had begun to run again, headed for the bays on the other side of the ship. That action just highlighted the fear growing in Clara. If the crewmembers could, they’d save themselves and no way could those rescue ships hold them and their cargo. She screamed, “They’re trying to put us in the pods so they can get on the ships and bail on us! They are going to leave us here to die!”

  Ariel shrieked. Her fist flew out. The woman packed a hell of a punch, Clara saw with some satisfaction. Now that the nefarious plot was clear, all the women fought back. One in particular, a skinny blonde, was skilled at fighting, her lean body launching across the floor and her feet and hands both kicking and punching. Clara didn’t have time to admire that. She was too busy just trying to get the crew out of her way and to the ships that were the only shot any of them had. Most of the crew deserted the fight and hauled ass for the escape ships. The women chased behind them, but Clara could feel her hopes sinking as she spotted a whole lot of those ships rocketing off into space, leaving them behind.

  Scarier was the sight of a massive, battered hull right above the edges of the wide glass observation windows. Margie, her face pale, asked, “What is it?’

  “I don’t know.”

  Ariel said, “Who cares? Run. We have to try to get to the…”

  Too late. A grating, rending sound tore through the ship. Debris and metal rained down. Clara went to her knees, her hands locking above her head. Her eyes went upward. Terror made her voice die in her throat. A long spike jutted into the ship. The thing whirled and spun and then opened, revealing a group of men.

  Not human.

  Something else.

  They were taller than average, with wide, barrel-chested bodies. They all wore plain brown uniforms, and the first one who stepped out could have passed as a pirate from back in Earth’s glory pre-tech days. He had a raffish black beard, neatly trimmed close to his jaw, which was sharper than it should have been. His hair, also black, hung in long curls to his incredibly wide shoulders. His eyes, long and almond shaped, were a burning blue. Thick fringes of lashes gave those eyes a smoldering look.

  He held up a long hand. The fingers were at least two inches longer than most human fingers. Clara got up. She put her arms out and tried to gather the other women behind her. Groans caught her attention. The crew and others had injured a few women by the spike, which must have been some kind of conveyance between the invader’s ship and the one the women were on.

  He spoke softly. “We are salvaging this ship. You have two choices. Come with us, or stay while it crumples around you.”

  Her rage burned high at that. Clara said, with a lot of bitterness, “So we have no choice. Again.”

  His eyes took in her face. His left eyebrow hooked upward. A flash of desire hit her hard. Her hands curled up into a fist and she stuck her chin out, eyeing him carefully even though her brain was screaming at her to get the hell out of there and fast before she found herself zooming through open space without a chance of survival.

  He spoke, his voice—a low and not unpleasant thing—resounding in her ears. “Sure you do. Live or die.”

  Great. Same choices she had had before. The women at her back surged forward as yet another spike shot through the ceiling. That one didn’t open to disgorge anyone. Instead, it emitted a long and awfully terrifying sucking sound that sent flares of panic all through Clara’s body. Ok then. Time to go.

  Margie and Ariel joined Clara in her flight across the floor toward the door. A fourth woman, one whose name Clara didn’t know yet, dashed into the tube just before the whirling door shut. Ariel gasped out, “What about the others?”

  The fourth woman, a fiery redhead with pale features and a lovely mouth, shook her head. “I don’t know. I guess they’re coming.”

  The tube jolted them upward. Clara’s hands whipped out, and she held onto one side. The ride up was fast, sickeningly so. She found herself blinking as the door spun open again to reveal a wide deck and a vast array of blinking equipment.

  Margie said, “I guess this is us.”

  The four women got off slowly. The tube descended again, letting out a high whine as it did. A tall man-creature with blonde hair and set of eyes like the others looked them over. “Were you cargo?”

  Margie said, “Sort of. Brides.”

  He looked amused. “Oh. So you’re not good for ransom.”

  Clara found her tongue as outrage stuttered into life. “Nope.”

  He shrugged and turned toward the equipment. The tube came back up, bringing with it several more women, all of them confused and more than one who was weeping. He sighed and said, “I’m Talon. Anyone hurt?”

  Clara checked herself and shook her head. Ariel had a shallow cut on one arm that had already stopped bleeding. Margie had a bruised cheek. The blonde woman who’d been fighting so hard earlier shrugged as if to say she was fine but didn’t speak. One of the other women had a large gash on her calf, and another had a slight scalp wound. He yelled for someone named Marik and another appeared, this one with brown hair and eyes.

  Marik said, “Follow me, those of you that are hurt. I’ll get you fixed up.”

  The others left. Ariel, Margie, Clara and the woman who’d joined them in the tube huddled together.

  Talon said, “They’ll be done in a minute down there. You sure got the shit end of that stick, didn’t you?”

  Clara’s lips vibrated with rage. “I’d say so. You wrecked our transport to our grooms and…”

  Talon snorted. “That’s what they told you? Yeah, that is what they told you. Of course they did. You weren’t going to husbands; you were going to Narnlia.”

  Clara blinked “I beg your pardon? That is not possible. That’s a pleasure planet.” And where all the women were slaves to the brothels or the singing saloons.

  Talon grinned at her. “If it is not so, then why were you on a trajectory there?”

  Her arms crossed. Her chin came up. “We weren’t.”

  Talon pointed to a monitor. She and the other woman stared at it. A hard gasp lifted Clara’s breasts. It was true! They were nowhere near the star system they were supposed to be headed for.

  Margie said, “There must be some kind of mistake.”

  Talon nodded. “Happens all the time. The government down there on your planet’s in on it, of course. Pretending to be sending off brides, so the good people who follow them don’t protest too much when their women are shipped off.” His eyes lingered on Margie’s face. Margie glowered at him.

  Ariel said, “So…now what? Is that where you are going to take us?

  Talon said, “That’s up to Renall.”

  Renall? The tube opened again. The piratical one stepped off. Talon said, “There you are. I was stuck explaining the hard facts to them, again. Why is that always my job?”

  Renall said, “Because you are so good at it.” His eyes searched among them and singled Clara out. “The question now is what to do with them.”

  Ariel wiped her face. Margie stared at the floor. The fourth wrapped her arms around herself and looked away. Clara stood her ground, not lifting her arms and definitely not lowering her gaze. She said, “Tell me, what made you salvage that ship?’

  “It was carrying things we actually need. Water, supplies, and oreonium. We need that for credits in the system, and now we have you as well, which we don’t need.”

  Her head came up a little higher. “How do you know you
don’t need us?’

  Renall chuckled. “You’re spirited.”

  “I’m also lethal.” The words dropped into the space between them. “If you attempt to shove me off on that pleasure planet, you’ll lose a good chunk of your hands while you do it, or your life.”

  Renall didn’t even blink. Maybe his kind couldn’t. His lips curved upward into a nasty smile though. “I see. I will keep that in mind.”

  He turned away. The four women looked at each other. Ariel asked, “What are we supposed to do?”

  Talon said, “Just be quiet.”

  They drew back into a small corner. Renall and Talon spoke in muted voices, and in their language, which was beyond Clara’s limited abilities of outer planet speak. She whispered, to Ariel and Margie and the fourth woman, “Any of you know where they’re from or what they’re saying?”

  The fourth woman nodded. Clara gawked at her. The woman was tall and stick-thin. Blue shadows lay under her eyes despite the long sleep. Her blonde hair had probably been lustrous at one time, but now it was dull and slightly stringy and in definite need of a wash. The woman smiled and whispered into Clara’s ear, “Move a little closer to the vac tubes.”

  They did. The noise there was terrible, and Clara had the idea that the woman didn’t want Talon and Renall to hear what she was about to say.

  Margie asked, “Who are you?”

  The blonde gave her a tired smile. “Jessica Laud. I’m a former Capo.”

  Clara’s mouth fell open. She remembered then that Jessica had been fighting the crew with some real skill. A Capo though? She whispered, “What’s a Capo doing on that bride ship?

  Jessica’s eyes closed and then reopened. “I knew something I was not supposed to know, is my best guess. Only I don’t know what it was.” Her smile was rueful. “I did know the ship was bound for Narnlia though. I had planned to escape as soon as we were let out of the pods. Take an escape ship and run. But that seems to be out the window.”

  Margie whispered, “Who are they?”

  “Wreckers, of course.” Jessica frowned. “I’d say from Inner Magda. They have that look and seem to speak the colony tongue, but they speak it with a little bit of accent so they might just be using that to throw off anyone who might know it, or their real language. Or they might just be using it because it’s a base language and one that anyone can learn fairly quickly. If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say they’re from the same system, but not the same planet, wherever they’re from, and they’re a crew because they all have one thing in common, and it’s not exactly race.”