1
Trinity Jones, Interstellar Brides Processing Center, Miami
“It’s just like getting your ears pierced, my ass,” my sister, Destiny, grumbled, her hand covering her neck where the NPU had just been inserted by the biggest needle I’d ever seen go into a conscious person. “That hurt.”
She paced the room, as if the pain would go away by walking it off. Her shoulder-length purple hair swayed as she moved.
“Stop whining. I went first.” I wasn’t about to let my sisters see exactly how nervous I was. As the oldest, I had to keep my shit together. No matter how terrifying the last twenty-four hours had been, I had a feeling the next twenty-four were going to be far worse. “With all those tattoos up and down your spine”—the markings were elaborate, feminine, and very beautiful, but I’d never admit that to her—"you should be used to the tiny little poke of a needle.”
Destiny rolled her eyes, still rubbing the area behind her ear. “That wasn’t a normal needle. That’s a knitting needle shooting tiny bullets into our brains.”
Warden Egara, the official representative of the Coalition Fleet at the bride processing center, was from Earth herself, but didn’t appear to have much of a sense of humor today. “The NPU doesn’t go into your brain, ladies. The nanotech burrows into the temporal bone surrounding the cochlea and transmits modified sounds directly to the cochlear nerve. And you’ll all be very thankful when you can understand anyone you come across.” She was efficiency personified. Crisp uniform, sleek dark hair, easy-going, yet serious demeanor. And all that science talk? Not my thing, but Faith was nodding with a fascinated look on her face.
Science geek. Faith had been bringing hurt animals and even insects home since she could walk. For all that, she had a gentle spirit that neither Destiny nor I could claim. I liked order. The rule of law. Tradition. Faith never made plans. And Destiny? Well, my baby sister pretty much walked around beating up bullies and making sure shit got done. Together, we were strong. I just hoped we were strong enough to survive the next few weeks. Hell, years. We were going home to a planet none of us had ever seen. And we were hunting for enemies we didn’t know.
The whole thing was a giant cluster-fuck, and I wished I’d listened to Mother two years ago when she suggested we return to Alera. But I’d been in law school. Too busy. Always too busy.
Now she was gone, and it was my fault.
“Stop being a baby or you’ll scare Faith,” I said. The injection had hurt, but since I’d gone first, I’d bit my lip and stifled my gasp at the sharp pain. Really, there should be a numbing solution, or some kind of drug for this.
“Just because I like to dress like a girl doesn’t mean I’m not tougher than both of you.” My middle sister, Faith, was eight minutes older than her twin. Both of them were almost three years younger than my twenty-seven. They were my half-sisters, but their human father wasn’t the reason we were all here—getting ready to transport to another world sight unseen.
Faith took a deep breath, let it out, as Warden Egara prepared the wicked looking tool for her turn. It was like an ear-piercing gun, but with a needle meant for an amniocentesis or alien probing instead of adding studs to a little girl’s earlobes at the local mall’s jewelry kiosk.
“Don’t faint. I’m in too much pain to catch you,” Destiny taunted.
“Spare me the drama,” Faith said to Destiny, who still held her hand over the spot where the NPU had been placed. As Warden Egara stepped closer, Faith swung her long, brown hair up over her opposite shoulder to bare the spot needed for the injection. “Mother taught us the Aleran language, Warden. I’m not sure why this is necessary.”
The whistle of pressurized air moving through the needle made me wince right along with Faith as the NPU pierced her skin. “There are over two hundred and sixty worlds out there with thousands of languages. Most worlds are not like Earth; they are much more advanced and welcome travelers from other planets.”
In other words, Earth was a primitive, unenlightened and unimportant place in the grand scheme of things. Mother had told us she wanted to hide on a planet so far removed from the politics and bullshit of the Interstellar Coalition that she’d chosen Earth for those very reasons. No one in almost thirty years had thought to look for her here. Until I’d screwed up and called Warden Egara a few days ago. Asked for some information on Alera and the ridiculous Aleran Ardor mother had insisted I was coming down with.
My body was going haywire and I got desperate. Stupid lack of discipline and a mistake I wouldn’t make again. One stupid phone call, and they’d come for our mother within two days.
Mother. Shit. She was out there somewhere. The small space ship that had been in our front yard gave me hope that she was still alive. They’d broken into our home in broad daylight while my sisters and I were at work. Dad had been asleep on the couch. And later, watching the surveillance video from our home security system, my sisters and I learned they’d pointed some kind of stun gun at him to keep him asleep. The aliens had landed, put the drop on Dad, shot Mother with some sort of light blast, and carried her unconscious body out to their ship.
She’d been limp when they took her. No blood that we could see on the video, but that didn’t mean she was still alive.
In fact, if what Mother told us about the light of the sacred spires on Alera was true, I had a feeling whoever took her might want her dead.
Alera. The planet was one our mother had spoken of for as long as we could remember. But we all grew up just like normal kids. Dad had officially adopted me when I was two. Mother had married him and then had my twin sisters. We all went to school. Typi
cal stuff like science fair projects, prom. Graduated. I went on to law school, like our dad. Faith was a biologist with a strange title working for the forest service. And Destiny? Well, Destiny was our battle specialist. We’d all been trained in basic martial arts from a young age, but for Destiny, fighting was like breathing. She loved it. And she was damn good at it. She managed a dojo and taught classes six days a week. She was so toned that watching her move was like watching a wild tiger, light on her feet but scary as hell.
Unless our house had been part of a sci-fi movie set we didn’t know about, the Alerans had finally come for our mother. Bad guy Alerans. After years of listening to Mother talk about her home planet—our planet—I knew we were the good guys.