Zuran: A Paranormal Sci-Fi Alien Romance: Albaterra Mates Book 6 Read online

  “Nail gun,” he said a little sheepishly. “And call me Josh. It makes me nervous when people call me Mr. Killian.”

  I lifted his hand for closer examination. “I’m no surgeon, but I’d say you’re very lucky. It seems to have missed every bone. I expect you’ll suffer some nerve damage, though.”

  “Will it affect my job?” he worried. I didn’t blame him for his concern. Josh Killian was one of the few carpenters who resided in the colony. If he were unable to practice his trade, he would likely be put on grunt duty: delivering goods to the dormitories and homes, performing janitorial work around the common areas, and assisting the colony leads with menial administrative tasks. Everyone who left Earth to take their place in human settlements on Albaterra had done so with a skill or occupation of value. If any of us were rendered incapable of performing said skill or occupation, we did not have the luxury of collecting disability benefits and living out our lives. We were expected to work, to pull our weight and help the colony flourish in all but life-threatening circumstances. Perhaps the demands on us were unfair or militant, but we’d known what we were signing up for when we’d submitted our applications for selection.

  Sympathetically, I shrugged and replied, “Like I said, Josh, I’m not a surgeon. I don’t know.”

  He cursed and glared at his hand as if it was horribly offensive, and I spun on my wheeled stool to jot some notes down on my clipboard. In many ways, being a nurse on Albaterra was no different than being a nurse on Earth, but I definitely found myself wishing more times than not that I had my laptop to work on rather than handwriting patient details. Unfortunately, until human electricity was figured out on this alien planet if it ever was, we were stuck doing many of our duties the old-fashioned way.

  “I’m going to have you wait here,” I told him absently, finishing my scribblings, “and Dr. Griep will be with you shortly.”

  “Thanks, ma’am,” Josh responded.

  I smiled kindly at the carpenter and stood, leaving him to his woes. It felt good to walk around. The heat of the day had risen to its peak, and sitting for extended periods meant sweat gathering in uncomfortable places, especially for a full-figured woman like myself. Some of the other nurses were never bothered by the arid desert swelter or even found it unpleasant, but they tended to be of the twiggy nymph-like breeds who sweat dewdrops rather than bullets. I’d never regretted my decision to become an Albaterran colonist, but I’d be lying if I claimed I never wondered why fate took my mild climate-born butt from Ohio and plunked me down in the middle of the alien Sahara Desert.

  “Dr. Griep,” I called, crossing the vast room to the middle-aged man in the white coat. He turned, and I held out the clipboard to him. “Josh Killian took a nail through the hand. I think he missed bone, but it’s still pretty severe.”

  The doctor took the clipboard from me and skimmed my notes with knitted eyebrows. “Pain level?”

  “Minimal. His primary complaint is tingling.”

  “There’s probably nerve damage,” Dr. Griep mused, frowning. “I hope, for his sake, it’s not permanent.”

  A sudden bang detonated through the air, and I looked up in alarm to see the door to the infirmary entrance flung wide open. Crossing the threshold was a tall, blue-skinned A’li-uud with a waist-length curtain of alabaster hair flowing out behind him like a cape. His sculpted mouth was set in a thin line, and his pointed jaw was firmly clenched, but even from a distance, I could see the facetious devilry lurking behind the seriousness in his ghostly white eyes.

  I knew this A’li-uud, by sight at least. He was the Interplanetary Affairs Officer for the colony, responsible for the well-being and goings-on of the human settlers in Dhal’at. We had never spoken, but I’d seen him around the colony every single day since my arrival nearly a year ago. Truth be told, while my female co-workers exchanged raunchy comments about the human soldiers, I had instead harbored lustful thoughts more than once toward the limber, sinewy alien. His muscles were carved out of stone, his sharp and mischievous face a work of the gods, and he reeked of the kind of confidence I wished I had.

  In short, he was not an unwelcome sight.

  “I need all healers to report to me,” he announced. His coarse voice and clipped words carried through the room in layered echoes. The infirmary was not like a modern American hospital, with many floors and private rooms and hallways upon hallways to roam. It was more akin to the hospitals of the 1940s, just a large open space with rows of beds lined up against the walls and only a few separate rooms branching from the sides. Any conversations had could be heard at least in tone, and the resounding command from the A’li-uud was easily understood. “Now.”

  “Nurses too?” asked Edie, the most diminutive of all the attendants.

  “Yes.”

  “We have patients,” Dr. Griep pointed out. He glanced toward Josh Killian out of the corner of his eye, who was now cradling his hand with sallow cheeks.

  The IAO followed Dr. Griep’s glimpse, and the shadow of a smirk crossed his thin lips. “I am quite certain he will be here when you return,” he said with tactless amusement. The doctor bristled, and the A’li-uud made an impatient noise in his throat. “Treat him if you must, but Elder Kharid has requested your presence at the palace and attendance is mandatory. I will send a warrior to escort you shortly.”

  I hesitated, uncertain if I should remain behind to assist Dr. Griep, but the doctor offered me a nod of reassurance and walked away to handle Josh. The other nurses were gathering around the IAO, and I crossed the room to join them. When I was near enough, I asked him anxiously, “What’s going on?”

  For the first time, his eyes turned directly to me. My breath caught in my throat as they pierced through my skin, drilling into my soul. The smirk was still lingering on his lips as he said, “You are going to save the world.”

  Chapter Three

  Zuran

  Though the infirmary provided shelter from the beating sun, I still felt overheated as I answered the human. Something about her excited me, sent me reeling with adrenaline and kept my core temperature well above normal. Her eyes, as green as the rolling hills and dipping dells of the kingdom of Finiba, widened upon my explanation, and I was swallowed up into her emerald orbs.

  She was unique, this human. While most of the colonists were either muscled and hardened from military training or lithe and slender from lack thereof, she was curvaceous and plentiful in form. Heat-curled locks of buttery hair swirled around her round face like a glowing aura, and plump lips parted to intake a slip of a gasp. Her healer counterparts around her—what the humans referred to as “nurses”—were of the build admired by human males, thin and wispy in various heights, but the smaller ones reminded me of A’li-uud entering puberty while the taller were reminiscent of A’li-uud females who had suffered severe malnourishment. It was evident my race had different values of beauty than humans as I found the other nurses almost pitiable in appearance, but this particular sweet-faced woman with her shocking eyes and ripe mouth and plentiful figure greatly appealed to my more primitive nature.

  “What does that mean?” This question arose from a tiny thing at the rear of the clustered personnel. So short was she I could hardly see her scalp, let alone her face, but she rose up an inch or two on her tiptoes and peeped over the heads of those in front of her. “That we’re going to save the world?”

  “Exactly that,” I said. “Elder Kharid has requested your presence at the Elder palace immediately to address a very important task. You are to come with me.”

  A lilt of murmured questions and theories bubbled up amongst the women, but the loveliest of them remained quiet. She was watching me closely, analyzing my face and studying my expression as I spoke. Had I not felt a whit of apprehension myself about what we would soon learn regarding the Novai, I likely would have been unnerved by her stare.

  “We must go,” I called over their muddled musings. Without waiting for a response, I turned my back to them, the beautiful female in
cluded and exited the infirmary through the door from whence I had entered.

  Footfalls sounded behind me as I stepped back into the sunshine. My skin burned beneath the rays, but I did not wind to the side of the road where shop overhangs offered a breath of shade. I did, however, veer slightly right toward Ruqa, one of the warriors stationed inside the colony as guard. I had been finishing my training as he had been beginning his, but we had established a bond through our mutual love of Ekk’ettik, a game played only in Dhal’at. He also shared my disdain for relentless sobriety, and I saw a flicker of humor behind his gaze as I drew near that mirrored mine.

  “I must take the human healers to the palace,” I told him in A’li-uud. “One has remained behind to treat an injured patient, but he will need an escort to the palace when he is finished. See that he is brought as soon as he is able to leave his patient unattended.”

  “As you wish,” Ruqa agreed with an inclination of his head. A shadow of a grin lingered under his somber expression. “It is not too serious a matter, I hope.”

  “It is difficult to say, for I only know what Venan has told me, and he is apt to embellish the unfortunate into the life-threatening.”

  Ruqa’s grin came forth, though he twisted away from the human women to prevent their witness. Dhal’atian guards were to remain stoic at all times, especially when in the company of the colonists. “Truer words were never spoken, friend,” he chortled. I allowed the corners of my eyes to turn upward to allude to a shared chuckle. When he became somber once more, he said, “I will bring the last healer to the palace the minute he is able to do so, as per your order.”

  “Thank you,” I replied, now offering him a nod of my own. He returned it and then retreated toward the infirmary with a small bow of acknowledgment to the nurses grouped behind me.

  We began our trek again. The colony was a neat square pocketed into one of the corners of Ka-lik’et, comprised of straight sand-dusted paths that ran parallel to all four walls surrounding the settlement and intersected at perpendicular crosswalks. Square, single-story buildings made of the same clay from which the walls were formed dotted the paths on the southern end and acted as shops and services for the colonists, while a mixture of rectangular multi-story structures and round dome-like huts served as residences on the northern side. Most of the architecture was accented with Dhal’atian landscaping of cacanau—leafy plants with sharp ridges—and eduku—long-stemmed flowers of reds and yellows and purples that drooped so low their faces nearly brushed the ground, and a number of buildings featured signs or shutters or outstretched awnings in various hues. The entire colony smelled of meat and spices, which I had learned humans consumed in astonishing quantities, but a tangy, floral aroma lingered beneath that lightened the scent into something more pleasant and soothing.

  At the peak of the afternoon, plenty roamed the small streets, and many a confused look was thrown in our direction as the healers and I strode toward the arch that was both entrance and exit to the colony. The sounds of the Ka-lik’et market were plentiful even inside the walls, but they were overshadowed by the chatter of humans socializing with one another or purchasing items from the shops that reminded them of home on Earth. My attention was diverted for a brief moment as we passed a particularly odorous store featuring scented oils to promote everything from good health to abundant wealth, and a strange contraption of metal cylinders dangling from an eave gently tinkled an invitation for me to explore the goods inside. I did not stop, though. Careless as I may have been, Venan’s words still echoed clearly in my mind, and I needed to know more about this mysterious disease.

  As we left the colony and stepped into the general city populace, we were greeted at once by an unhindered view of the palace in all its glory. In a kingdom of yellows, oranges, whites and tans, the home of Elder Kharid and those who ruled before him stood in vivid turquoise, rich fuchsia, citrus lime, and soothing tangerine. The balconies extending out from below the arcing windows, of which there were many, were shaded with silken canopies in every color of the rainbow. Ropes of strung geodes alive with natural current draped from column to column and adorned the grand structure in many-colored globes of light that, come nightfall, would sparkle as brightly as the stars above. At the very top, the golden dome gleamed its presence across the desert, reminding every citizen of Dhal’at of its elegance. In nearly a century and a half of life, I had never found anything else across the entirety of Albaterra that delighted my eye as much as the vibrant palace before me.

  Four guards stood outside the entrance, two on either side. I was familiar with each in various measures, but they were all very much like Venan in mindset and stared at me with stony faces as we neared.

  “The human healers have been summoned by Elder Kharid,” I announced in A’li-uud.

  The one nearest me on my left surveyed the females behind me and asked, “Where are the others? We were told to expect a dozen.”

  I glanced over my shoulder and counted the heads, my eyes lingering slightly longer on the blonde tresses of the curviest. When I turned back, all four guards were eyeing me irritably. “These were the ones on duty in the infirmary,” I explained. “I can certainly go back and retrieve those in their homes if you believe Elder Kharid wishes it.”

  “No,” the guard grunted. He banged his staff, a long spear with a curled head and a deadly-sharp base, against one of the massive doubles doors. It began to open seemingly of its own accord. “The Wise One will advise you of his wish.”

  I inclined my head in a show of respect, though I felt more irritation than esteem, and proceeded through the door with the women following closely behind. A small A’li-uud, one of the many palace boys who performed various domestic duties until they were old enough to enter warrior training, scrambled out of the way for fear of being trampled by our herd as I strode into the vast and comfortably-outfitted foyer. Venan was already present, standing near one of the several open arches leading into neighboring rooms. He looked at me with disapproval.

  “You need not hassle me for bringing only the nurses, brother,” I said at once before he could speak. “I have already been asked once.”

  “I know,” he replied sternly. “I heard. No matter, for I already sent Takiteku to the colony for those left behind.”

  I knew not if I was more aggravated by Venan’s constant perfection or offended by his assumption that I would fall short in my orders, but I was unable to linger on the imbalance for long. A bellowing, reverberating roar ripped through the foyer and assaulted my ears, forcing me to cry out with a roar of my own in discomfort. I heard the humans shriek with alarm behind me, but their yelps and screams were drowned almost immediately by the yell of yet another guard as he streaked into the foyer.

  “The Novai has escaped!” he shouted, his white eyes wide and wild. Venan and I drew our weapons, he a scimitar with a long swooping blade and me a pair of jagged daggers, and I whirled on the spot to face the females. My eyes locked onto a pair of striking green irises.

  “Remain here,” I ordered in English. “I will return soon. Do not leave unless you are met by a Novai. If you are, run.”

  Chapter Four

  Phoebe

  The roar that tore through the otherwise peaceful ambience was unlike anything I had ever heard, except for maybe in horror movies about animalistic monsters who fed on human flesh. It was impossible to tell where it came from because the entire room was surrounded with archways leading into other rooms, and the entrance hall featured a ceiling that rose so high all sounds echoing off of it sounded as if they came from every direction. I was instantly terrified, but, more than that, I was desperate to know the source. Even with its strange tone and unnatural pitch, I could hear the pain lingering beneath.

  I didn't speak A’li-uud, and I was certain neither did any of my other coworkers, so I was unable to understand the conversations being held until that point. When the IAO turned and commanded us to run if we happened across a Novai, however, my stomach rolled.
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  The Novai were barely more than a myth to me, though I had seen one since coming to Albaterra. It still stood out clearly in my mind, a horrific image straight from a nightmare. Where there should have been eyes, there were only skin-covered divots, and its nose was less like a nose and more like a flattened protuberance. Its mouth was the only source of color on its entire being, as brilliantly red as a new rose. Reptilian ridges dominated the facial structure, and a whisper from an onlooking A’li-uud informed me the ridges were unique to each Novai, almost like birthmarks or fingerprints on humans. Its skin was white, but not the same kind of white as A’li-uud eyes and hair; rather, it was the white of a phantasm, semi-translucent and sickly. I was told by one of the guards patrolling the colony that Novai typically had long, black hair, and the one I observed did indeed have raven-dark hair, but it was short and windblown and curled so thickly around his ears that they weren’t at all visible. He was as tall as any A’li-uud I had met and equally as muscular, but his muscles were of the stringy nature, not bulging. Basically, the Novai had been terrifying to look at, and I’d been more than happy to believe I’d never see one again.

  That belief had just been washed away like I’d been hit by a tsunami.

  The A’li-uud in the foyer darted into the room on the left, which, by all accounts, was practically another foyer. Its ceiling seemed to soar just as high, and the poufs and cushioned benches that plentifully populated the room in which I currently stood had mates of different—but equally bright—colors. Tapestries depicting Albaterran battles, former Elders, scenic landscapes, and even seemingly superficial items such as Dhal’atian fruits hung everywhere the eye could see, most walls featuring no less than three. If I hadn’t been so panicked, I would have felt like I’d just stepped into a luxurious Middle Eastern resort.