Haze (The Telorex Pact Book 2) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Introduction

  Violet

  Haze

  Afterword

  Haze

  The Telorex Pact

  Phoebe Fawkes

  Starr Huntress

  Copyright © 2017 by Phoebe Fawkes

  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.

  Click or visit: phoebefawkesblog.wordpress.com/

  Contents

  Introduction

  1. Violet

  2. Haze

  3. Violet

  4. Haze

  5. Violet

  6. Haze

  7. Violet

  8. Haze

  9. Violet

  10. Haze

  11. Violet

  12. Haze

  13. Violet

  14. Haze

  15. Violet

  16. Haze

  17. Violet

  18. Haze

  19. Violet

  20. Haze

  21. Violet

  22. Haze

  23. Violet

  24. Haze

  25. Violet

  26. Haze

  27. Violet

  28. Haze

  29. Violet

  30. Haze

  31. Violet

  32. Haze

  33. Violet

  34. Haze

  35. Violet

  36. Haze

  37. Violet

  38. Violet

  Afterword

  Introduction

  Vi has finally kicked her ex to the curb. She's done with losers. Been there. Done that. Burned the t-shirt.

  Warrior Haze doesn't have time for his matched mate Vi, no matter what his DNA says. Sure, he wants her. Has to have her.

  But his mission comes before everything, even his feisty little mate.

  Vi is no man's toy, and Haze wants her to go undercover as his plaything. But so help her, if he lets her get put on some auction block…

  When Vi promises Haze that she’ll kick his ass — him, the greatest fighter the Mahdfel have ever seen — it sends an excited zip through him.

  He’s doing his best to play it cool, but she’s distracting him from the mission.

  And the harder they fight the attraction, the harder it is not to succumb...

  About This Universe

  Welcome to the Warlord Brides Universe

  The vicious Suhlik meant to enslave Earth and rob her of her resources. Only the Mahdfel warriors could stand against them.

  The Mahdfel warriors were once slaves of the Suhlik. Although they won their freedom, a lingering reminder of their oppression remains. They were genetically engineered with no ability to have female children. Now — in order to survive at all — these hunky alien warriors must demand one thing from every world that they protect.

  Every childless, single and otherwise healthy woman on Earth is tested for genetic compatibility with a Mahdfel warrior. If the match is 98.5% or better, the woman is instantly teleported away to meet her new mate.

  No exceptions.

  1

  Violet

  The customer line was long for a Friday afternoon. Violet wasn’t really in the mood today. Her boyfriend Rafe had called, giving her a headache as usual. It was time to let go of that waste of space, which meant she would need a new roommate. She was about to need this job more than ever, which was why she wished she could be anywhere but here.

  Of course, she could go work a nine-to-five like her sister, but it just wasn’t in her.

  The question remained: why hadn’t she kicked Rafe out years ago? Because of the sex, that’s why. And, man, he looked good on her couch. Which was mostly what he did.

  Some nights he filled in as a bouncer at the local bar. Other than that, he was pretty much attached to her couch.

  And it was her couch. Everything in the apartment was hers.

  “Alissa, can you cover the register for a minute?”

  Alissa glanced at the line and froze. “You want me to…?” Her voice sort of quavered. Alissa was probably the mousiest person Vi had ever met.

  “Don’t look at the line; just the person in front of you.” Vi glanced at the next person. “Well, hello, Ms. Jane. Did you want your usual?” At the nod from the customer, Vi turned to Alissa: “Make her a half caf, no whip, medium mocha…”

  Jane piped in and finished with Vi: “Extra caramel on top.” This girl and her caramel.

  “Course Jane, I wouldn’t forget that.” She turned to Alissa. “Two minutes… please?” she wheedled.

  Alissa nodded her head, starting on the drink, and Vi made a hasty exit to their workroom, dialing Rafe’s number.

  “Hey, babe, what’s up?” he asked.

  “Listen Rafe, just don’t be there when I get back, okay?"

  “What? What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you haven’t contributed to the rent in three months. All that you contribute to is the indents on my couch. Enough is enough. Go hang with Whist and Gave for a few weeks while you figure things out. And Rafe? I mean it.”

  Rafe would definitely be there when she got back, but at least the foundation was set. Now, it was time to rescue Alissa. Vi’s heart felt lighter.

  Why hadn’t she done this months ago?

  2

  Haze

  Valo Hazryn hadn’t been sleeping much. Things had been tense on the ship lately.

  The facts were clear. Crystal clear.

  The women of the Vargys planet were dying of the Telorex Syndrome. His mother — all of the crew’s mothers — would not survive without the Varstath mineral the crew had been mining. So what if there had been a minor skirmish with the Suhlik a MONTH ago? Big deal. Were they not Mahdfel? Should they not go back to the most bountiful repository his crew had ever set eyes on?

  But no. Oz, his crewmate, was too busy being worried about his new human mate, Molly. So worried that Oz had managed to talk the crew out of going back to the Yastromus cluster.

  Fine. Maybe the Suhlik did keep showing up in that quadrant. But, again, were they Mahdfel or not?

  There wasn’t all that much Varstath to collect in the safe places they’d been mining lately, which was why Haze spent most of his time – when not on a mission – in the gym training, getting his energy out.

  To make matters worse, Oz and his human mate, Molly, were so touchy-feely together, kissing all the time. It was disturbing Haze’s calm. He felt the jealousy pour through his bones.

  As he landed several swift blows to the side of the dummy, raining hellfire on its plastic form, he tried not to think of having his own woman beneath him. Lately, it’d grown impossible not to think about it.

  The ship’s first officer, Fyn, wandered in as Haze stooped down to grab a drink of water. “Haze,” Fyn acknowledged, giving him a slight nod.

  “Fyn.” Haze nodded his head and glanced to the door. “Can’t sleep either?”

  “Nope.”

  Their eyes met, and it was one of the few times Haze felt a meeting of the minds with the uptight tail-cricker of a man.

  Haze pulled a couple of warngs from their stands on the floor. They were the heavy Vargys fighting staffs that the crew favored when they sparred with each other.

  “Did you want this one?” Haze tossed one to Fyn. “Or would you rather use the one up your ass?”

  That did it. Fyn stiffened up as he grabbed the warng out of the air and assumed his stance.

  “This’ll do,” Fyn grumbled, ho
lding himself at the ready.

  Haze nodded his head. It was definitely more fun to fight someone willing to hit back, not that many got in more than half an attempt, regardless.

  The first few points were casual warm-ups. He let the man parry and dance, getting his feet under him, then Haze made his move. He tried to reign himself in, not end the battle too quickly, but soon the fire raced through his veins. Time slowed down for him, and it was as though the fight were in slow motion. As Haze scored point after point, Fyn’s face took on a frustrated, sour expression.

  Haze felt the fire increase. His opponent was broken, defeated.

  He should end him. Now.

  Haze pulled back from the feeling, the precipice of his battle cry. He showed his back to let Fyn have his point; rich boy would be intolerable tomorrow if he didn’t get at least something for his time.

  Fyn looked breathless and spent. As usual, Haze felt only energized and ready for a dozen more. If not for the face of his suffering mother, Haze would be at the front lines taking out a dozen platoons of the Suhlik. Maybe that’s where he belonged. But he couldn’t leave the mission, not if he could directly bring her another month of life.

  Fyn crowed. “About time,” he said.

  “Another go?” Haze asked, knowing the answer.

  “No,” Fyn panted. “I’d best get some sleep.” They slid their warngs into their stands.

  Once they reached crew level, Haze nodded. “Night, Fyn.” At the stern look, he added, “Sir.”

  Fyn nodded stiffly and turned to go to his room.

  Haze shook his head. At least Fyn didn’t demand a salute. This time.

  The problem with Fyn was… never mind. The list would take all night to compile.

  3

  Violet

  As Vi turned the lock in her apartment, the first thing she felt was relief. No Rafe. No confrontation. It stung a little that he wasn’t waiting for her here, begging for her to take him back. But in the case of Rafe, he probably figured she’d realize her mistake more quickly if she thought he’d really just leave her.

  She would not be that girl though. She texted Marissa: “He’s not here. You can lower the guns of war.”

  Vi looked around. Everything looked different somehow– drat, the TV? Why the little wanker–

  And, he would think it was his. He’d been the one to talk her into spending her savings on it. So yes, maybe in some weird Rafe and his friends’ logic that meant it belonged to him.

  Vi’s headache returned, and she covered her face with her hands. Yet another thing to deal with, because yes, she was getting her damn TV back. Obviously, the real reason he wasn’t here was because he knew she’d show up at his friends' place.

  Now, she’d have to change the locks.

  The coffee shop didn’t really pay that much. It was only that she didn’t spend much either that she’d been making it, week to week. That and having this shabby, rent-controlled apartment to live in.

  First things first, she’d need to get another roommate. No guys this time - especially hot, out-of-work ones - that’s how she’d ended up with the slouch.

  The knock at the door startled her out of her reverie. Vi figured it was probably Marissa until she heard the male voice call out, “Violet Dunn, we’re here to collect you. Please open the door.”

  “What the–?” Ohhh. This was one of those Fridays. Oh man, this was actually one of those Fridays, and after only a couple years of being eligible, her number had been drawn.

  “Well, F–.” She leaned over and pulled the door open. “Come in. I just need to– uh, grab my, uh…”

  “Miss, you have three minutes,” the soldier said. He was in uniform and everything. She glanced past him, and two other soldiers were waiting silently in the hall.

  “All right. All right.” She turned, leaving her door open, and walked to her bedroom, hauling out her old, ratty suitcase. She tossed in an armload of shirts, stripping them of hangers fast. Then tossed in her favorite jeans, shorts and sweatshirts. Next, she cleared out her underwear and socks, grabbed her favorite swimsuit and workout gear, another pair of sneakers, and her favorite pair of boots. —Wait! And her favorite strappy sandals.

  Man, the minimalist wardrobe was really coming in handy today.

  Now, just to close it. Okay, not happening. She grabbed a duffel bag out of her closet and scooped the top half into it.

  Toothbrush!

  She rushed to her bathroom and filled her travel kit with her favorite items. She topped off the duffel bag with her travel kit, hair straightener and curler.

  She called back toward the soldier at the doorway: “Do they have converters there?”

  She heard the heavy clump of soldier boots coming toward her. “Miss, it’s time to head out now.” He had come into the doorway of her bedroom and was eyeing her luggage.

  “Yeah, yeah,” she mumbled under her breath. “Just close these for me, will you?” She glanced over with a smile.

  “Miss…” He sighed. “Fine.” He put some muscle into it and soldiered it shut. Meow. A man in uniform was so cute.

  Meanwhile, Vi took a moment to look around. Everything she loved was here. Her paintings. She’d have to text her friends so they could come rescue them if she was matched.

  She took her favorite from the wall. It was a small 8x5 and the most vibrant of the group. It reminded her of fall in New England on that one trip her family had taken from North Carolina, up the coast, before their parents had died.

  Man, she’d have to give her sister a heads up too. Ugh, maybe the army could handle that? Surely they would?

  She lurched around and grabbed another bag from her closet. What was it with her and her bags? This one was a nice, large, over-the-shoulder one. Perfect for taking her art supplies when she needed to be mobile. Carefully, she slid her painting inside, hoping it would survive without protective wrapping.

  “Miss, I wasn’t kidding. If I have to, I’ll–”

  “Sure, I’m ready.” She walked back by way of her desk and scooped her pencils, paints and brushes, and drawing pads into the bag. “Chances are I’ll be back, right?”

  “Yes, typically.”

  “Okay, good then.”

  They headed into the hallway where he handed one of her bags to a soldier waiting there. He lugged her large suitcase, not seeming to complain, although she knew it must weigh a ton.

  Not her problem.

  They weren’t the ones getting shipped off across the galaxy to screw some alien.

  What would happen to her job? Would they have to keep the slot open for when she got back? Did people ever come back? Eh, probably not. They probably would not keep her dumb ass job waiting for her. She’d actually liked that job too. It gave her time to think and breathe. All gone to become some baby factory so their alien warlords could survive.

  Well, at least this way she’d know if she had some DNA matched stud waiting for her somewhere in the universe. Please be a hotty, she thought to herself. Sure, she wanted to be able to chat with the guy, but please let him not be one of those ugly beefy aliens she’d seen once on TV…

  Her TV!

  Damn it. Rafe might get to keep her TV after all. F– That’s just great.

  As they loaded her into the jeep, she asked the soldier, “Can I report–” She broke off. She couldn’t do it. Crap, let him keep the TV.

  “Never mind. Do you know how far we are from the center?”

  “About ten minutes, miss.”

  There were two other girls in the jeep already and someone dressed like a nurse.

  “Quite a party, I see,” Vi managed with a smile as she sat down. The other two kind of glanced at her with matching, blank expressions and looked away. The nurse nodded solemnly.

  “Okay then.” She took her bag off her shoulder and rifled through it, making sure all the lids were tight and halfheartedly straightening the pencils and paintbrushes. She put her hands on her lap and leaned back, staring out the window.

&
nbsp; New Jersey wasn’t the prettiest state, kind of drab and over-crowded, at least where she lived.

  They didn’t exactly advertise the location of the center, but Vi figured they were probably headed into Trenton.

  Only a couple minutes later, they pulled over, and the soldiers got out again, gone to collect another girl. This one was followed out of her building with a crying family in her wake. There were strong hugs all around.

  Vi watched as the girl climbed up to sit in the seat across from Vi, tears rolling down her cheeks. The nurse whispered quietly to her, and the girl nodded her head.

  Vi texted Marissa: “Number called today. Think you come my place later, grab paintings if I matched? Find place for them?”

  “Course! U k?”

  “Y. Probly nothing.”

  “Y. Probs.”

  “He stole my TV.”

  “…” pause. “…”

  Vi watched as Marissa tried to think of what to type. The message filled with dots, pauses, dots again.

  “Rafe a rat. Hot rat. But not worth you. When u back we raid place. K?”

  “Sounds good.” One thing was for sure: if she wasn’t matched, she’d draw something to use as a tattoo to commemorate never dating a waste-of-space like Rafe again.