Barbarian's Rescue: A SciFi Alien Romance (Ice Planet Barbarians Book 15) Read online

  Barbarian’s Rescue

  Ruby Dixon

  Ruby Dixon

  Copyright © 2017 by Ruby Dixon

  Photo by: Sara Eirew Photographer

  Cover Design by: Kati Wilde

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. I know, I know. Imagine that a book about big blue aliens is fiction, but it is. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental and would be pretty darn nifty.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Barbarian’s Rescue

  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

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  The People of Ice Planet Barbarians

  IPB Reading List

  Fire In His Blood

  Want More?

  Barbarian’s Rescue

  Bad day? Try mine on for size.

  Rogue slavers have landed on the ice planet and captured the tribe. The only ones not snatched? Me, a walking human motormouth with no skill except that of incoherent babbling, and Warrek, who is as silent as he is attractive. Two more unlikely people have never been paired together.

  And now we’re supposed to form a rescue team.

  Saving the others is either going to bring us closer together – or drive us completely apart. I’m pretty sure the feelings I’m having for my alien companion are as unrequited as they are inappropriate, but since we aren't going to make it out alive, what harm is one teeny, tiny kiss?

  Who knew that one kiss could change everything?

  1

  SUMMER

  The fruit cave is quiet as heck. I study one of the vines crawling up the high walls of the cave and examine one of the large, juicy pieces of fruit hanging ripe.

  It’s so quiet I swear I can hear myself thinking. I can hear the water dripping from the leaves. This place is like a hothouse, with the artificial light so far up in the ceiling and a thermal vent somewhere far below. When the others in the tribe first told us that there was a warm cave near the Elders’ Ship that was full of lush greenery, I thought it sounded like a fantastic spot to visit. That’s why I was quick to volunteer to go fruit picking. Fruit plus warm? Right up this girl’s alley.

  But I guess I expected birds chirping or jungle noises or something. Anything. Instead, it’s so quiet I can hear my own pulse as it beats in my ears.

  Not that that's a good thing. I like noise. I like conversation.

  And with Warrek? My only company here in the fruit cave? There’s neither noise nor conversation.

  Part of it is the fact that it’s supposed to be several of us heading to this cave to harvest fruit for the entire tribe. Originally, it was going to be Harlow, Rukh, and their son Rukhar leading the way, along with Farli and Mardok, her husband. Mate. Whatever. They were supposed to bring the hunters—Taushen and Warrek—with me and Brooke. Plenty of people around. But then Harlow decided she was too tired and too pregnant to go on the walk and would rather work on the ancient ship. Can’t blame her for not wanting to hike while a million months pregnant. And because she bailed, Rukh and Rukhar stayed home, too. I’m fine with that, too, because Rukh’s not very chatty or friendly, and his kid is just like him. Then, because Harlow was staying, Mardok wanted to stay behind and work, too. They’re busy fussing with something in the old, decrepit ship’s controls and seem to be the only two that understand things. I offered to help, but after a few hours of cleaning grease off of parts for Harlow, I’ve made myself a bit more scarce.

  So then Farli decided to stay with Mardok, and it was down to me and Brooke and Taushen and Warrek. Not my favorite, but fruit and a warm cave were still calling to me.

  But then Brooke bailed. Said she had a headache. Then said it was cramps. Me, I think she’s down with a case of Bullshit-itis and just didn’t want to go. Of course, she bailed at the very last minute…which left me with two big strong guys and no buffer.

  Some girls would love to be alone with two big hunky dudes all to themselves.

  Me? It just makes me nervous, and when I get nervous, I ramble. And, boy, did I ramble on the way here. I have this horrible habit of filling dead air with random conversation. Is it too quiet? Allow me to tell you all about the time I shoved a marble up my nose when I was five. Or how when I first started college, my roommate had lice and I had to burn all of my bedclothes and most of my wardrobe after I found she was borrowing them. Got a spare moment? Allow me to fill your ears with the exciting stories of the last chess tournament I played in.

  To say that I fail at small talk is like saying Superman dislikes kryptonite.

  At any rate, after about a half-hour of me nattering on in the uncomfortable silence and discussing the optimal non-leather ponytail holders for us on the ice planet when we don’t have rubber bands, Taushen decided that he needed to go “scouting” and left.

  That meant this trip was basically myself and Warrek.

  Ah, Warrek. The person I am least like in the entire tribe. I’ve never met anyone so quiet. It’s like he’s got something against noise of any kind. He doesn't make a sound when he walks, always choosing his steps carefully. He doesn't bang baskets around or scrape at his weapons all day long like some of the other hunters. He's always so darn silent.

  And talking? Out of the question. I think since we left on this stupid little trip, Warrek’s said three words to me. He pointed at the cave and said, “There it is.”

  That’s the extent of conversation I’ve had in the last day.

  I frown at the fruit nearest to my hand and decide to move on, heading for a larger one farther along on the ledge. It’s not that there’s anything wrong with that fruit, I guess. I’m just distracted by all this peace and quiet.

  It sucks.

  Warrek’s no help. I tried talking to him yesterday when we got here, but he just stares at me with those intense glowing eyes. Worse yet, sometimes he doesn’t even look at me. It’s like I’m not here, and it makes having a conversation pointless. I never thought I was much of a people person…but I’m definitely not a silence person.

  Right now, I’m not even much of a fruit-picking person. I’m very much a let’s-just-get-this-over-with-and-go-home sort of person.

  I sigh and pick the mango-like pink thing off of a vine and stick it into my woven basket. I don't know how much fruit we’re supposed to be picking, so I just keep filling baskets of stuff that looks ripe. Warrek hasn’t corrected me on what I’m doing. Heaven forbid he say a word or two. Nope. He just hands me another basket and sends me on my way when I fill one. It makes me grumpy.

  Words cost nothing. Why
be so stingy with them?

  It also makes me grumpy that Taushen abandoned us the moment we set off. As soon as he heard Brooke bailed out, he shut down and took off on his own. I realize Brooke is prettier and has bigger boobs than me, but damn. I like to think that I’m friendly enough that I’m not going to make hanging out with me that miserable.

  Now I’m stuck with Tall, Blue and Silent in a cave that feels like a sauna, full of fruit that I’m picking instead of eating. On an ice planet in the middle of nowhere.

  With zero conversation.

  This must be what hell is like.

  The sound of my own breathing—and the endless drip drip drip of condensation—gets to be too much. I grab the nearest fruit and look over at my only company.

  “What do you suppose this tastes like?” I blurt out as I pull another one of the mango things off the vine. “Tomato? Apple? Pear? I guess you won’t know those because those are Earth fruits, but they’re kind of sweet and tasty. Well, not the tomato. I guess tomatoes are technically fruit, but they’re more acidic and tart and not eaten like fruit. We tend to slice them up and put them in sandwiches and make sauces out of them, which I suppose is kind of like fruit, too. If you think about it, tomato sauce is just like fruit jelly, but on pasta.”

  Oh god, what the fuck am I even saying?

  Shut up, shut up, shut up, Summer!

  Warrek just makes a grunt to indicate he’s heard me, but doesn’t contribute to my inane conversation. Why would he? I sound like an idiot to my own ears. I’m just so tired of the silence, though. There’s nothing but the plop of dew falling from the leaves in here and the artificial lights flickering overhead. It’s pretty and covered in vines and reminds me of a bird sanctuary from a zoo back at home…minus the birds. I’d welcome birds, because then at least there’d be noise.

  A breeze wouldn’t be out of place, either. Right now my skin feels hot and slick all over, like I’m taking a really long turn in a wet sauna after a workout. I thought it’d be nice after weeks on end of ice, ice, and more ice, but I forgot that I’d be wearing leather clothing…and that I’d be accompanied by male strangers.

  Or, as it turns out, just one male stranger.

  Oh god, I hope this isn’t some weird way to try and matchmake me and Warrek. Surely there can’t be two people less suited to being together than the two of us.

  But I can’t ignore the idea once it pops in my head.

  It’s no secret that the reason we were brought here to the ice planet—or as I like to call it, Human Popsicle Planet—because the single hunters of the tiny tribe were in need of girlfriends. Mates, they say, like that makes it sound better.

  Thing is, they got the short end of the stick when it comes to me. I’m smart—book smart. I’m also a huge wimp, a worrywart, clumsy, unathletic, and I don’t know how to shut up. Which, I suppose, would be fantastic if one of the guys here was looking for a woman who’s completely useless and doesn’t know when to shut up. But they’re not. The few guys that are single are also rather un-chatty, and so I’m probably like nails on a chalkboard to them…not that they know what a chalkboard is.

  And really, it’s not like I’m begging to be someone’s little wifey. The thought’s a little insulting.

  Okay, it’s also a little flattering, too. The awkward chess-loving geek inside me is kind of secretly thrilled at the thought of being someone’s sexy, coveted mate. The women here are treated incredibly well by their mates. And they’re all ridiculously happy. It’s hard not to want that. And the guys are hot. Like seven-foot tall, muscular as all get out, flowing dark hair, every female’s fantasy kind of hot. However unpolitically correct it is, it’s flattering to think that someone might want me—geeky, verbal-vomit Summer Huang—as their one and only.

  Of course, that’s not how it works, not really. Even if I found the guy of my dreams, he doesn’t get to pick me. The cootie—the symbiont implanted inside us—picks our mates out. Only Gail, who’s too old to have more children, seems to be able to pick the guy she wants.

  Elly’s cootie found her a man right away. That leaves me and Brooke and Kate, and out of the single men? That leaves Warrek, Harrec, and Taushen.

  Harrec’s obviously got a thing for Kate, so he’s out.

  Taushen’s surly and unpleasant and is clearly not interested.

  Warrek? He’s silent. Since I’m a yapper, also clearly not interested.

  Whatever grand social experiment we’re supposed to be contributing to is a big ol’ failure on my end. I should have known that even on a planet starving for women, I’d be passed over. Story of my life. No one wants an Asian chick with “personality.”

  But Warrek still hasn’t answered me about how much fruit we need, and I feel frustration start to grow. We don’t want to pick too much…or too little. “How many more baskets do we need?” I pause in my plucking and turn around to face my silent companion. “Are we bringing less in since Taushen left? Or do we need to make up his slack and pick some extra? If we do, how are we going to carry it back? I mean, we could always jig a sled of some kind, but I thought this was going to be a quick excursion. I mean, not that quick since we stayed overnight and all, but you get the drift.”

  Warrek looks up from his careful packing of the fruit and blinks at me with those bright blue glowing eyes. He’s unfathomable.

  Annnnd he’s still silent. God.

  “You know what? I’ll just go back to picking,” I tell him, mentally shooting darts at both his head and mine. Him for being mute, and me for babbling to fill the silence. I’ll learn to shut up, someday.

  Actually, no, I probably won’t. I tend to speak before I think, and that hasn’t changed at all in my twenty-two years of life. I don’t imagine it’ll change anytime soon, either.

  Part of me expects Warrek to smile like, “Oh, thank god, she’s finally shutting up.” Or to just remain completely blank, like a statue. Instead, he cocks his head, animal-like, and gets to his feet, a frown of concern on his face.

  “Uh oh, what's going on?” I ask, moving to his side. That’s not a good response. I hurry forward as much as I can on the slick stone. The fruit cave has a lot of narrow ledges that mean walking close together or worse, rubbing up against another person. I’m a small woman, but Warrek's definitely not on the petite side. He’s all muscle, like all of these hulking aliens, and he’s taking up a lot of room on the ledge. I resist the urge to grab at his belt to steady myself when it narrows, and instead hug the vines hanging nearby. “Is it Taushen? What do you hear?”

  He puts a finger to his lips, indicating silence, and then heads out to the entrance.

  Some answer. Telling me to be quiet? Gee, thanks. Frustrated at that response, I set down my basket and follow behind him. Maybe someone else is showing up soon and I’ll have someone else to talk to. I wouldn’t even mind Gail and Vaza, though I’m not a big fan of Vaza. He’s kind of overbearing, but at least he’s sweet to Gail.

  I follow a few steps behind Warrek, where he’s headed out into the open air, his dark hair fluttering behind him. As I step out onto the hidden ledge, tucked into the side of the cliff, arctic air immediately blasts my flushed face, making my damp hair ice up and my body shiver. I go from sweaty to freezing in a matter of seconds, and not even the thermoregulating cootie can keep up with that. I hug my arms to my chest and peer around Warrek’s broad back, trying to see what he’s looking at.

  A moment later, it becomes obvious. A massive shadow moves slowly through the air, and as I gawk, I realize what it is. I can’t believe it.

  It's a spaceship.

  Not just any spaceship—I’m pretty sure it’s the one that bought our group of human slaves and dropped us here to live forever. I’m not an expert on spaceships, but I recognize the sleek length of it, as well as the black metal and the elegant wings that have an almost iridescent shimmer to them. I remember wondering how something so pretty and delicate could travel so far in space.

  The ship glides down through the wintry
valley and then settles down with a little wobble on the powdery snow. It’s landed off into the distance, near where the Elders’ Ship is parked, if I don’t miss my guess. From our high vantage point in the cliffs, we can see a long way off. While a lot of ice and mountains look the same, I suspect that’s the ship’s destination. Of course they’re going to land by the other ship again. I imagine that they think we’ll all be hanging out there.

  They’re only half-wrong, of course. Our small group went to visit the Elders’ Ship, but the rest of the tribe is back in the village down in the canyon. It’s several days’ hike from here.

  “It’s the Tranquil Lady,” I breathe, remembering the name of the spaceship. Holy cow. This is unexpected. I feel a little twinge of worry. They dropped us off here to “free” us as a debt to Bek, Elly’s mate. What if they’ve decided that human slaves are too valuable to send off to the ends of the galaxy and decided to retrieve us? I bite my lip at the thought and again have to resist the urge to clutch at Warrek’s belt to steady myself. However icy it is here, and however much I feel out of my depth amongst all these hardy, capable people, it’s better than being a slave.

  I glance up at Warrek. “What is it doing here? I thought they weren’t coming back? Ever? Do you know anything about this?”

  But Warrek stares at the ship, then shakes his head slowly.

  At least it’s a response. Just…not a very reassuring one.