The Alien Assassin’s Convenient Wife_An ‘In The Stars’ Romance Read online

  The Alien Assassin’s Convenient Wife

  An ‘In The Stars’ Romance

  Ruby Dixon

  Copyright © 2018 by Ruby Dixon

  All rights reserved.

  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.

  Cover Photo: Sara Eirew Photographer

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  The Alien Assassin’s Convenient Wife

  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

  Author’s Note

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  Also by Ruby Dixon

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  The Alien Assassin’s Convenient Wife

  One half of an intergalactic assassin team, Jadzion heads to New Mexico for his target while his brother Heriot heads to California. They've traveled millions of miles and through star systems to find their targets, who are gun-runners on a galactic scale. Now, though, Jadzion has a problem. He's waited until the last minute to go planetside, and his target's at a couples retreat.

  Jadzion is solo.

  The solution is obvious - Jadzion needs a wife. Just for the weekend, of course.

  Using a thing called a 'dating app' he finds a woman named Jenna. He tells her he needs to marry her, right away. Jenna, naturally, is confused. But the longer she's around Jadzion, the more she thinks he's not from around here...and that he just might be the one for her.

  1

  JADZION

  Two planetary rotations to locate my target on Earth, infiltrate without being noticed by the human locals, assassinate him, steal his documents, and return to the ship before the intergalactic gate dismantles itself.

  I’ve had less to work with. Really, I don’t even need the full two rotations. With the data in my tracker, I already know where my target is. A’dor T'Antor isn’t even bothering to hide his bio-signal. He’s out there, bold as anything, in a place called New Mexico, in a human town with a tongue-tangling name. All-boo-kerk-hee. Part one of the job is already done and I haven’t even left the ship yet. It’s like taking chazon from an infant.

  I buzz my brother on his communicator, then kick my feet up on the dashboard of the bridge as I tap into one of the human communication bands. They call this tee-vee and it looks like visual storytelling of some kind. Primitive but charming. When Heriot picks up, I immediately tell him, "This job is far too easy for what we're getting paid. What's the catch?"

  Heriot growls with irritation, ignoring my comment. "Where are you?"

  "Still on the bridge." I flip through channels until I find one of humans mating, and then I pause to watch it for longer. It is a male human with two females in bed together, and the male isn't even flushed with mating pigment, though it certainly isn't for lack of the females trying to entice him. They slobber on his shaft as if their mouths are improperly hinged. Perhaps all mating humans have excessive saliva when aroused. Strange.

  "Why have you not come down to the surface yet? If I have to breathe this filthy air, you do, too."

  I ignore my brother's sour tone. He's always in a bad mood when we go to backwater planets. "I'm tracking my target from afar. He's at a…" I tear my gaze away from the greedily sucking females on the comm band and force myself to read my maps. "Public domicile of some sort. It is called 'Al-boo-kerk-hee Relationship Adventures and Retreat.' Do you know what such a thing is?"

  "No. I don't care, either."

  Figures. Heriot's all business when he's got a job. It's a wonder we've worked together for so long, but despite our different methods, we get the job done, every time. "He's been hiding under a human alias for the last three months waiting for your target to arrive with the shipment. I have him as 'Neville Goodsir'—humans must be deficient in intellect if they think that's a logical sort of name of any kind. At any rate, he's been staying in one location and has yet to offload his portion of the data, so we're fine on that account."

  For the first time, the assassin brothers (Heriot and myself) are tracking two criminal brothers. There’s a wonderful synergy to it, I think. The brothers we're pursuing have a two-part mission. One brother is acquiring a crystal—Illirium—before it can be sold to R’Etor enemies. My target—A'dor or Neville or whatever he's calling himself right now—will be bringing in the second half of the ELW—Extinction Level Weapon. He’s got special codes for the weapon that uses the Illirium, and with both, the aliens he’s selling the weapon to plan on wiping out this planet and dozens of others. My job is to take A’dor out after he gets the info and pass it on to our government.

  Heriot only grunts, and I suspect he's not even listening to me at the moment. "Do what you must and stay out of contact in case they're listening in. I have my target and am in pursuit. Don't let yours get away or I'm taking both of our shares of the payout."

  Now the females are licking each other, violating every hygiene law in the galaxy. I stop in my tracks, staring, and when my brother makes an irritated noise, I force my gaze away from the screen. "I'll get my share done. I always do." We work differently, my brother and I. He's nothing but brimming tension until his target is acquired. Me, I prefer to have a bit of fun as I work. Check out the local scene, see the customs, mingle with the aliens. Earth intrigues me because it's a forbidden planet. We're only allowed here because we have the proper work permits, otherwise it'd never be allowed. As it is, there's an extra step we have to take because of such things. It's not a straightforward target due to the fact that humans cannot be aware that we are on their primitive world. Humankind has been determined as “not yet ready” for contact.

  It's a stealth mission. Those are fun. It means I get to dress up as one of the primitives and pretend to be one in order to take out my target. I like it.

  Truth be told, I would probably do this job for free if only because I get to explore Earth for a bit. I don't tell Heriot that, though. He's a bit stubborn about such things. I tell Heriot, "It's all under control, I promise. Plenty of time to get things in motion."

  "You always say that, and you always end up with your ass down to the wire. Get down here planetside and take care of business," he grouches at me. "And don't forget your antidote. This place is crawling with unmated females."

  Unmated females? I look at the comm on the monitor where the females are still caressing each other, mouths wide open. "Are any of them excessively salivating?"

  "What?"

  "Nothing. On my way." I force myself to turn off the human comm and head toward my personal shuttle.

  * * *

  Six hours later, though, I have a problem.

  Even though I wear human clothing and have acquired human documents to proclaim me as one of them, I cannot get into this 'Al-boo-kerk-yee Relationship Adventures and Retreat’ building. The large domicile only has one unlocked entrance, and it is full of humans milling about. Several of them stare at me—as I expected, due to my pigmentation difference—but I act as if nothing is unusual. There is an elderly female (mated) at a desk at the front, and she looks at me expectantly. A gatekeeper, then. I glance around the building interior to see if there is a way to bypass this gatekeeper, but there are far too many onlookers
for my taste. I can easily take out one or two humans without being noticed, but with this many, I am bound to be noticed. Not a chance.

  "I wish to enter and see Goodsir," I tell the too-smiley female at the front desk who looks me up and down. "I have an appointment with him."

  She beams at me in a matronly way, her short hair stiff and shiny like a strange gray helmet. "Mr. Goodsir is leading the relationship retreat that starts tonight and cannot be disturbed except by clients who've signed up."

  "I am such a client," I tell her, giving her my most winning smile. At least, it always wins my mother over. "Allow me to retreat."

  Her expression grows puzzled. "Is your wife in the car, sir?"

  "My what?"

  "Your wife. It is a couples retreat. Married couples."

  Married. Married. I smile at her and covertly check my tablet. Ah. Married means “mated” in the human tongue. "My mate is waiting outside. She wishes for me to go in and she will catch up later."

  "I'm going to need to meet her and see some ID before I can let you inside the resort, sir." Her expression becomes steely. "This is an extremely private retreat and as such, we value our customers’ confidentiality highly. I cannot let you in until your wife joins you in person and I check both of your IDs." And she continues to give me a stern expression, as if I am a misbehaving youngling caught with his hand down his pants for the first time.

  "Ah."

  "Do you have a wife, sir?" the female asks.

  "Of course," I bluster. "She is, ah…" I frantically try to think of an excuse as to why I would not have a female at my side. I am not the smart one, though—that’s Heriot. "She is…"

  "Out parking the car?" the elderly female asks sweetly.

  "Quite correct." I beam at her, pleased she has volunteered information for me.

  "Well, when she joins you, I can let you both in." And she dismisses me with a glance.

  It seems I need a female. More specifically, a wife.

  And I need one fast. I have already wasted too many hours. Heriot would be furious.

  Now I just have to figure out where humans acquire a wife, and quickly. Frowning to myself, I turn and leave the building.

  * * *

  Another hour is wasted while I try to determine where I can meet a human female who wishes to mate with a stranger. I start to grow nervous, because I have lost half a day when I should have been pursuing my target, and instead, I find myself stymied at the entrance of the building. It would be such an easy thing to dispose of the humans in my way, but part of the contract is that I cannot let the humans be aware that an alien moves among them. If I do, I must forfeit my pay.

  And that would really make Heriot mad at me.

  So clearly, the only way to get in is to find myself a female, mate her in their human customs, and then drag her with me to this building that my target hides in so I can remove him. But where do I find such a female? Frustrated, I sit on the ground under a tree in a public park, avoiding the younglings that play on equipment nearby. Females watch over their offspring and shoot me strange looks, but I do my best to ignore them despite the fact that so many females around makes my skin itch. I took my antidote before coming planetside just to be safe, but I am not used to commingling like this. Adult R’Etor males do not co-exist with adult females unless they are already mated…or unless it is a special occasion, such as a mating contract.

  "What's that weirdo doing at a playground?" one hisses under her breath.

  "Pedo," the other whispers.

  "Albino pedo," chimes in a third. "If he tries anything, I'm calling the cops."

  I idly wonder what it is they think I will “try.” I flip back and forth on the human comm bands, looking for a hint as to where I would find an unattached female who wishes to mate. Truthfully, I want to watch the mating comms again, but I would feel strange about it with so many younglings nearby. I glance over at the females. Without the presence of their mates, they are not salivating as far as I can tell. Interesting.

  As I flip through comms, one of the females sniffs and turns to the others. "So how was your N'ferno date the other night, Kimmi?"

  The one who must be Kimmi giggles gleefully, and my ears prick.

  "Wait, what's N'ferno?" says another female.

  "It's one of those dating apps like Tinder," says the first one. "Kimmi's trying to get back on the wagon after…" She sniffs haughtily. "After the Greg thing."

  This time, Kimmi sighs. "It was okay, but he was just looking for a hookup, not a serious relationship. I want someone I can marry, you know? Give Billy a dad. That's why I'm on the damn app after all."

  My ears prick again and I shamelessly listen in on the females' conversation so I can learn how to find this “app” thing.

  If that is where one finds a human mate, it is exactly what I need.

  2

  JENNA

  I come home from work and barely set my purse down on the sofa in my living room when my roomie Kayleigh rushes toward me.

  "Don't get too comfortable," she crows, steering me toward the bathroom. "You have to get ready for a hot date!"

  I groan, because it's been a long day at the office and the last thing I want to think about right now is getting sexy for a date. "No, Kayleigh. No."

  "Yes, Kayleigh, yes," my roomie parrots. She plugs in my flat iron and rummages through my makeup bag.

  I stare at my tired reflection in the mirror. Does it look like a woman who's been working overtime due to quarterly reports? One who would rather be in her pajamas hiding from the world? Probably. It sure doesn't say Hot Sexy Bitch Needs A Date.

  "You're going to thank me later," she says, and pulls out a tube of lipstick. “You’ve been spending too many months at home, moping and being a downer.”

  “It’s called a midlife crisis, Kayleigh,” I point out. “I’m allowed to mope.”

  “You’re twenty-eight, not forty. You can’t have a midlife crisis yet.”

  Can’t I? I’ve been depressed and listless for the last few months. My job is awful and I’ve been passed over for promotion after promotion for male co-workers or the boss’s friends. My last boyfriend cheated on me. After a double whammy, everything seemed to go wrong and it just made me tired. So what if I’ve been spending every weekend watching old shows on Netflix instead of going out? Sometimes it’s easier to hide from the world. “Let’s call it depression, then.”

  “Let’s not. Here. Wear this color. It makes your lips look pouty."

  Biting back my sigh, I snatch the lipstick from her and frown. "Do I want to look pouty? What's this about a date? Did you set me up?"

  "Well, not exactly." She pats my shoulder and then rushes out of the bathroom. When I peek around the edge, I see she's heading into my room, making a beeline for my closet. "You know you told me that you tried that N'ferno app for dating and then gave up?"

  "Vaguely." I learned after a few failed dates that “app meets” were just not for me. "I thought I canceled that months ago."

  "Actually, no. You changed your profile to one of you in a Halloween costume and your description to 'Let's Get Married' and I've been monitoring any interest you get. Which wasn't much, by the way."

  "Hence the description. Everyone just wants to hook up. No one wants to date," I tell her, dusting powder on my nose and then pausing, because why am I doing this? "Wait, you hacked my account?"

  "Uh, no, dummy, I'm tracking it for you. I don't count it as a hack if you have your password set to 'password.'"

  Well, she had a point.

  "In all seriousness, I've been weeding for you. Don't get me wrong, you still get the occasional creepster, so I click 'no' on them. But today you got a good hit on N'ferno and the guy's a business professional new to town. And under the 'income description’? He check-marked all of the dollar signs. All of them, Jenna. You know what that means!"

  "That he's lying?"

  "That he could be your sugar daddy!"

  Ew. My friend Kayleigh is sw
eet, but I think she and I want different things out of relationships. "I don't want a sugar daddy. I want to meet a nice guy."

  Actually, I really just want to change into my pajamas and watch Netflix.

  "He's probably nice! And he's not scared off by your profile. You should go out with him."

  I run the flat iron over one handful of my hair, frowning into my reflection. "You're monitoring my account. Go ahead and tell him I have to reschedule."

  "Here's the funny thing with N'ferno," Kayleigh says with a nervous laugh, pulling out my favorite little black dress from the closet, then discarding it. She studies my clothing. "It's a 'let's meet up right now' sort of app. He's already on location."

  I nearly singe my hair. "What?"

  "He's already at the restaurant."

  I moan miserably. "Kayleigh, you didn't."

  "I did. Just give it a chance, all right? If it doesn't work out fifteen minutes into the date, go to the bathroom and text me to do a rescue call. We'll figure something out. Now quick, put this on."

  I just stare at her, frustrated and annoyed. "How are we still friends after you pulling a stunt like this?"

  "Because we've known each other since grade school and I know you're lonely? And it makes me sad to see you wasting your life binge-watching bad rom-coms on Netflix? And you know I have the best intentions and wouldn't pick out a weirdo for you?" She stands in the doorway and holds a black pencil skirt out to me. "And you need a date for the big power dinner with your boss next month anyhow. If this works out, you'll have one."