• Home
  • Delia Roan
  • The Alien Recluse: Verdan: A SciFi Romance Novella (Clans of the Ennoi)

The Alien Recluse: Verdan: A SciFi Romance Novella (Clans of the Ennoi) Read online




  Table of Contents

  Title

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  Contents

  Title

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  THE ALIEN RECLUSE: VERDAN

  Delia Roan

  www.DeliaRoan.com

  Sign up for Delia's newsletter for sneak peeks, freebies and all the latest news!

  SIGN UP HERE! or visit Delia's site

  © 2017 by Delia Roan

  www.deliaroan.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover design © 2017 by Plumstone Book Covers

  www.plumstonecovers.com

  CHAPTER ONE

  REBECCA

  Rebecca Nowak pressed her back against the rough wall of the alleyway, tipped her head back, and thought about food. It took some effort to ignore the rancid odor of whatever currently lay beneath her feet. Alien sewage sat in a class of its own.

  “Pizza,” she whispered to herself. “Mac and cheese.”

  She peered around the corner, waiting for a lull in the crowd. Across the busy marketplace, she spotted her target. The ugly Dorian haggled with another alien merchant over rolls of fabric. Rebecca clenched her teeth. She tried to remind herself why she followed the Dorian.

  “Grilled cheese and tomato soup.”

  The truth was: she was starving. Her human constitution wasn’t cut out for the exotic food sold at the market. She’d learned the hard way. Her first day on New Trades, she’d eaten scraps fallen from a merchant’s stall, and spent the rest of the day in a drainage ditch, puking out her guts.

  She did know that Humans and Dorians shared enough biology to allow her to eat Dorian food. In order to not starve to death, she needed to figure out what the Dorian ate, and get some of his food for herself.

  Rebecca narrowed her eyes and spat.

  “Ugh, you’re an ugly beast,” she muttered. “Toast with peach jam.”

  Objectively speaking, she had to admit the Dorian wasn’t the most disgusting creature milling around the open market. Since arriving at the New Trade Spaceport two weeks ago, she’d seen all types of unbelievable extraterrestrial life, from long, spindly stick-insects, to mobile globs of shapeless jellies, to ones who remained sealed in portable atmosphere vessels.

  Yet while the other creatures fascinated her, only the Dorian sent shivers down her spine. It wasn’t his appearance. No, the flat toad head, beady eyes, and dangling whiskers weren’t the worst part. She hated everything the Dorian represented: her captivity, her loneliness, and her broken body.

  Rebecca clenched her fist. She breathed deeply, then coughed as the scent of feces overwhelmed her. Time to move. She pulled the edge of her cloak around her mouth, filtering the air. She checked that her hood covered her face, and hitched up the pack of old rags tied to her back.

  She meandered out of the alleyway, wobbling to and fro, hiding her silhouette beneath the artificial hump. She tried to avoid bumping into patrons as she wound her way closer to the Dorian.

  The last thing I need, she thought, is to cause a scene.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the Dorian give the shopkeeper a rude gesture and storm off. As discreetly as she could, she scurried after him.

  “Thai green curry,” she said, sidestepping a vendor carrying a box. “Fresh baked bread from The Bluebird Cafe. The kind with the seeds in the crust.”

  She followed the Dorian away from the bustle of the marketplace to a quieter area of New Trades. Segment Twelve was darker than the Segment she just left, and much larger. Merchant ships docked here, to load and unload their wares. Rebecca crept along a narrow corridor, keeping the Dorian in sight. Giant loading bays flanked her on either side, some empty, while others held massive transport ships. Each ship had a different shape, with some cylindrical, some jagged like crystals, and some like over-sized Lego bricks.

  They reminded her of the cruise ships she’d watched back on Earth. She’d sat in her booth at the water’s edge, doling out ferry tickets, and longing to hop on to travel the world. She’d been too broke, and now she would give anything to go back to her quiet life.

  “Mimosas. Bagels with lox. Brunch at Isabella’s with the girls.” The words flowed from her lips like a whispered mantra.

  The Dorian paused in front of a bay, and met up with another of his kind. This one bore the same red lumpy skin, but he was tinged with green along the tendrils that hung from his chin. He wore a mishmash of clothing, and carried a stun weapon that had seen better days.

  Fear crept into Rebecca’s throat, and the hunger in her belly was replaced by the churn of acid. Following a Dorian errand boy was one thing, but with an armed Dorian here, she knew she had to tread carefully. She chewed on her lip, watching as the Dorians discussed… something…

  Her?

  They couldn’t know she was here. She’d been careful. If they knew, they’d have come for her weeks ago, when she first crashed her stolen Dorian ship onto New Trades. No, there had to be another reason. Something big, or they wouldn’t be milling around a docking bay.

  “You’re a numbskull,” Rebecca chided herself, as she slipped away from the safety of the boxes. Crouching low, she circled around the Dorians, drawing as close as she dared. “A complete and utter loon.”

  She ducked into the nearest dock, hiding behind the door. From here, she could hear the Dorians speak. Boring business gossip. A discussion about an arms deal gone wrong. Suddenly, the Dorian she’d followed raised his head. He smacked his companion and pointed toward the dock. Both Dorians stared.

  Rebecca turned to study the ship behind her. It reminded her of a dragonfly. Bulbous on one end, with a long cylindrical extrusion. Squat protrusions lined either side of the ship. A wide door lay open on one side, and a stack of boxes sat outside.

  An alien strode down the extended ramp. Rebecca blinked. As far as aliens went, this one wasn’t bad looking. He – Rebecca knew he couldn’t be anything else – stood on two powerful legs. Emerald green and brown scales dusted his cheeks. He had a strong face, with small ridges running along his jaw.

  More ridges flowed along the top of his skull, peeking out through his buzzed hair. Horns curved back from his temples, adding to his height. Despite his scowl and the scar running along his cheek, Rebecca liked the look of him. He was the closest species to Human she’d seen in literally years.

  “Well, hello, handsome,” she murmured.

  The alien reached up and unzipped his flight suit, shrugging it off his shoulders and revealing a broad, muscular chest. Ridges, like the ones on his face, ran down his shoulders to his strong arms, and
down his spine. The same rich forest colors covered his body in swirling patterns. Thick scars crisscrossed his back. Not the straight lines you might get from surgery or an accident, but patterns garnered through years of hard living.

  Bet he’s got a story.

  The alien brushed a hand across his forehead, and hauled up a box effortlessly. He strode back into the ship, and Rebecca huffed out the breath she’d been holding.

  “Ten years off Earth and I’m getting giddy over E.T.” Rebecca shook her head.

  “See,” hissed a Dorian behind her. “I spoke true! That bastard is back. He returns every few months.” Even over the translator, Rebecca could hear the buzzing nasality of the Dorian’s voice.

  “Ennoi,” said the other Dorian. His mouth gaped in a sneer, revealing rows of sharp teeth. He was larger than the first, but the tendrils under his chin were stunted and twisted, and scars warped his snout. Even by Dorian standards he was ugly. He tapped his chin with the back of his hand, which Rebecca knew was a sign of derision. “Long way from home.”

  “Long way from the Relays, at least,” replied the whiny Dorian.

  Of course! The Relays!

  She’d heard the Dorians speak of the Relays, and of the mighty Ennoi warriors who guarded them. The giant wormholes were a quick way for transport ships across the universe. She’d even been through a couple while held by the Dorians. The Dorians feared the Ennoi, even though they spoke of them with disdain.

  Hope flared in her heart. She could ask the Ennoi for a ride. Ennoi territory lay near the Solar System. She could hitch her way home. Back to Earth. She just had to wait until the Dorians left, and then approach the ship. Maybe the Ennoi would take pity on her.

  A second Ennoi slipped out of the ship. This one was smaller, and far more delicate, though her smooth skin bore the same earthy swirls of color, and she lacked ridges. A heavy red jewel the size of Rebecca’s fist hung around her neck. She hesitated at the foot of the ramp, then sat down on a box. She arranged her skirts, and pulled out a small device. Soon she was absorbed in the glowing screen.

  A kid, Rebecca thought. She’s just a kid. Is the big guy her dad?

  The scarred Dorian huffed. “She’s an Ennoi princess? Looks like a stray.”

  “She is!” insisted the whiny Dorian. “That stone around her neck is no cheap trinket.”

  “Neither is the ship,” responded Scarface. “I bet whoever owns it will pay good money for the return of the girl.”

  “Kidnapping was not on the docket for today,” grumbled Whiny. He followed Scarface as he marched toward the ship. Their weapons buzzed as they powered up.

  A chill ran down Rebecca’s spine. The girl’s attention remained locked on the device in her hands, and her feet idly drummed on the box. Rebecca wanted to scream, though whether in warning or in fear, she didn’t know.

  I can’t do this, Rebecca thought. I can’t get caught up in this. I can’t afford to go back.

  She made it halfway out the door before she stopped. How old was the kid? It wouldn’t matter to the Dorians. They never concerned themselves with the ages of the women and girls they kidnapped. Rebecca thought back to another little girl she couldn’t save.

  Jenna.

  Rebecca’s hands curled into fists. Dorians took what they wanted and threw away the rest. The kid her father got back wouldn’t be the same kid the Dorians took. She’d be different.

  Broken.

  Like me.

  It wasn’t Rebecca’s business, but she was about to make it hers.

  She turned, and saw the Dorians were nearly at the girl. She wanted to yell to the girl to watch out, but the words wouldn’t come. Rebecca scanned the area. No weapons.

  She’d have to improvise.

  Breaking into a sprint, she threw off her cloak and pounded down the cargo bay. At the sound of her booted feet slapping the ground, the Ennoi girl looked up. She spotted the Dorians, and tilted her head in curiosity. Her eyes took in Rebecca, and a small crease appeared between her brows.

  “Run!” Rebecca bellowed. “Run!”

  Startled, the girl surged to her feet. The device in her hands fell to the floor with a clatter, but her face was more surprised than scared. She turned toward the ship but was too late. Scarface darted forward and seized her by the arm, twisting it. The Ennoi girl screamed.

  With a grunt, Rebecca launched herself at Whiny who raised his weapon at the last second. Rebecca pinned his arm to his side with her leg as she wrapped her arm around the Dorian’s neck. Her stomach lurched at his scent, but she held on, hitting him with her fist. A wordless roar of rage flowed from her as she pummeled her target.

  She knew she wasn’t doing much damage. Dorian hide was thick and rubbery, and she was weak with hunger. With a roll of his shoulder, the Dorian seized Rebecca by the wrist and threw her. She sailed through the air before crashing into a box.

  The wind knocked out of her, Rebecca struggled to her knees. Her head pounded. She looked up just in time to see the Ennoi man charge out. At this distance, he appeared massive, a walking mountain covered in forests. A furious mountain.

  With a couple of blows, he sent the Dorians flying. Scarface hit a shipping container with a crunch and didn’t move, but Whiny began to crawl towards the door, dragging a twisted leg behind him.

  The Ennoi glanced at Rebecca, and when their eyes met, Rebecca gaped. So much anger, but also fear. She raised her hand, to promise him she wouldn’t hurt him, or the girl. Too late. He turned, and scooped up the sobbing girl.

  “W-wait!” Rebecca coughed. “I need a ride!”

  The girl whispered into her father’s ear, but he shook his head and strode up the walkway.

  “No! Please! Help me!” Rebecca scrambled to her feet.

  She might as well have been talking to a stone. He put down the girl and slammed the control button. The ramp began to close, and Rebecca could do nothing but watch. Her eyes met the girl’s, and to her surprise, the girl extended her hand, and nodded.

  The door shut with a clang, and Rebecca blinked. Had she imagined it?

  No, the girl had pointed down the ship. Rebecca peered down the length of the ship.

  What had the kid been trying to tell me?

  CHAPTER TWO

  VERDAN

  If Verdan Ar’Lhoris had to make a list of his greatest fears, the sound of his daughter screaming would be at the very top.

  By the moons, his heart had stopped in that moment. Even now, with Farrah safely behind the thick hull of his ship, he trembled. Like a child afraid of the dark.

  Trembling! Him! It was absurd! He, who had stalked more battlegrounds than any other Ennoi clan chief. He, who had faced down death more times than trikka birds had feathers.

  Back then, you were a fool, he reminded himself. You had no idea how much you could lose in a single moment.

  As the heavy hatch closed, he turned to his daughter. Farrah’s tear-stained face pulled at his heart, but he couldn’t relent.

  “Dry your eyes,” he said. “Only infants weep.”

  “Yes, Papa,” she said, wiping her face on her dress.

  “What were you thinking? When we are docked, you remain on board! No exceptions!”

  Farrah dropped her head but said nothing. The defiant set of her jaw made Verdan want to shake her.

  “This is my ship. You are not even crew here. You’re only slightly above the cargo in importance.” He felt a pang of shame when Farrah flinched, but he had to know she understood the gravity of the situation. She needed to know her place.

  If I lost her…

  “I will not tolerate disobedience. You will flush the septic tanks and scrub the pipes. That is your punishment.”

  “Yes, Papa,” said Farrah. “Can I go now? I want to check on Min.”

  He hesitated, torn between staying with Farrah and starting the takeoff procedure. Even if he rushed, they were at the mercy of New Trades as to when they could leave the shuttle b
ay.

  “Fine,” he said. “Come up front when you are done.”

  Farrah took off before he even finished speaking. Verdan suppressed his irritation. She would never learn. It would be his responsibility to keep her on a tighter rein.

  As Verdan headed towards the bridge of the ship, he flicked on his lumis. The little device showed him the camera feed from the rest of the ship. On the screen, Farrah fussed over the gate of Min’s pen. He regretted how Farrah had run to her pet, instead of to him. Yet, he knew that was why he’d gotten her the creature. She needed comfort, and he could no longer provide it.

  You need a heart to love.

  His jaw tight, Verdan slipped into the captain’s chair. His hands danced over the switches as he ran through the pre-takeoff checks.

  A few minutes later, Farrah took into her seat beside him, “There are still boxes outside,” she said. “We’re losing cargo.”

  “Irrelevant,” Verdan replied, tapping a gauge. “We depart. Now.”

  “What about my lumis?”

  “You dropped it. It’s gone.”

  “That wasn’t my fault! What will I play with?”

  “You have plenty of toys.” He glanced at her stricken face. “You may borrow mine.”

  Farrah took the device and began tapping away. She sighed and leaned back. Her harness clicked shut as the engines began to whine. For a moment, she was silent, gazing at her screen. “You should have helped her.”

  Verdan’s hand stopped halfway to the controls, and then he resumed his frantic pace. “Should haves get people killed.”

  “She helped us.”

  “Enough!” he roared. Farrah lifted her chin in defiance and glared at him. Verdan sighed. “Enough, Farrah. I can’t change what has happened.” He tapped her on the nose. “You are my first responsibility.”