Alpha Mated Box Set

  Who knew I'd get to meet Death before the week was out? I sure didn't expect that relationship to develop, at least not so soon, but Fate was funny. At least, that's what Death told me.

  But I'm getting a little ahead of myself. It'd been a week since David and my last run-in with adventure. I lay on the fall browning of his massive lawn and stared up at the gray skies. The clouds lazily floated by, and my thoughts did the same.

  A face came into view and blocked mine. I frowned at David's smiling countenance. "Do you mind? I'm deep in thought."

  He chuckled. "Then I've come at a good time." He dropped a folded slip of sleek paper onto my face.

  I sputtered and sat up. The paper slipped into my lap. "You could kill somebody with that paper cut!" I snapped.

  David took a seat beside me and nodded at the paper. "What do you think? Not a bad idea for a pre-honeymoon honeymoon, huh?"

  I glanced down and furrowed my brow. It was a cruise brochure. I looked to David. "Weren't you traumatized on your last cruise?" I pointed out.

  He shrugged. "I got over it." I arched an eyebrow. "Mostly."

  I snorted and took up the brochure. "I guess since you're not chasing your food that's a good sign."

  I opened the folded paper and broached the brochure. It showed the usual advertisements of a crowded swimming pool, indoor tennis courts that made my calves cramp just thinking about it, overpriced food and nightly entertainment sure to enrapture the kids and bore the adults.

  I tried to fold the brochure back to its small position, but the dark arts kept the damn thing from going back. "Are these cruises really any fun?" I wondered as I wrestled with the paper.

  David took the brochure from me and folded the parts in one try. "They can be a life-changing experience."

  I glared at him. "Yeah, but I don't want to wake up the next day and find I have even more leg hair to shave."

  He shrugged and climbed to his feet. "I had hoped you would be more excited, especially as I know the captain."

  I raised an eyebrow. "What's that got to do with anything?"

  David tapped the brochure against his palm. "Well, knowing the captain means we get to eat at his table, and we can see every part of the ship."

  "And?"

  "And we're nearly ensured tickets to all the good shows."

  "And?"

  "And you get me all to yourself without any of our past 'fun' adventures?"

  I jumped to my feet and grinned. "When do we leave?"

  He smiled and offered me his arm. "Tomorrow. The preparations have already been made."

  The next day found us at the familiar port of the city. Lord Blake's massive yacht sat far off in the distance, but ahead of us was our boat. It was a smaller cruise-liner, one capable of touring the bay in three days at a leisurely pace. A couple hundred other people waited in eager anticipation for their turn to walk up the large, wide white gangplank that led to the top deck.

  A large bag was slung over my shoulder, courtesy of David, and he had his own suitcase neatly tucked under one arm. He leaned his head back and admired the ship. The name was painted on the side in large blue letters: Seaset Love.

  "Quite a magnificent ship, isn't she?" he commented.

  I looked up at the name and wrinkled my nose. "Reminds me of seasickness."

  He turned and smiled at me. "I hope you don't suffer from that malady."

  I shrugged. "I don't know. The longest I've been on a boat was a dingy in the middle of a lake. It took a friend and me twelve hours to catch our limit, but we did it."

  "And what was the limit?"

  "A fish per person."

  He chuckled. "The fish god was not with you."

  "Or any other one. We thought about sacrificing one of us to get that last fish, but by that time we caught a fish and realized we'd reached our limit with one of us overboard."

  "I'm glad you weren't the one sacrificed," he told me.

  I snorted. "So am I. Anyway, when do we get aboard this floating turkey?"

  He offered me his arm. "Right now."

  I accepted his arm and he led me to the sign-in station. A quick registration and we walked up the gangplank. Colorful movement caught my eyes on the docks. I glanced over my shoulder and saw it was a troop of performers in their bright outfits. A man in a tall black hat with a red coat with tails, the ringleader of the gang, met my eyes. He tipped his hat and smiled at me.

  I looked away. There was something about that smile I didn't like.

  We reached the deck and turned right onto a long walkway. I paused at the railing and looked down. The distance was a couple dozen feet into the deep, dark water.

  My head was hit with a wave of nausea. I clutched my head and swayed from side-to-side. David caught my arms and kept me still.

  "Are you all right?" he asked me.

  I straightened and nodded. "Yeah. Just a little farther down there than I thought."

  A young man in a white suit greeted us with a smile and a bow. "Mr. and Mrs. Dives?"

  I whipped my head to David. He smiled at the young man and nodded. "That's us."

  "The captain has asked me to personally look after both of you. My name is Stewart."

  David shook hands with him. "It's nice of the captain to treat us with such hospitality, but if I know Captain John Dux I'm sure that wasn't the reason he sent you to us."

  Stewart smiled. "Can I be frank, sir?"

  "Is that your first name?"

  The young man's smile widened. "May I be honest with you, sir?"

  "Perfectly honest, but not here. Why don't you lead us to our stateroom and there you can spill your heart to us?" David suggested.

  Stewart bowed his head and led us into the bowels of the ship. Our stateroom lay on one of the upper floors so it was a few short flights of stairs to the room. I found it to be like a small condo with all the amenities except a cooking kitchen. There was a fridge for drinks and room-service food, and a small dining area at which to eat it. The living room had a couch, chair and TV, and the master suite had a jacuzzi tub. A balcony off the living room had a great view of the docks, and a small half-bath off the living room finished the decor.

  David turned to Stewart and gestured to the living room. "Care to sit down, Stewart?"

  The young man smiled, but shook his head. "I can't, sir. I have to report your coming to the captain, and see to some other guests."

  David dropped his arm and shrugged. "Ah, well. What about that honesty you were going to tell us?"

  Stewart blushed. "To be honest, sir, the captain has me watching you to-well, in his own words 'so the other passengers can breathe safely.' Do you happen to know what he means by that, sir?"

  David chuckled. "Just that he knows my penchant for trouble following me, that's all."

  Stewart furrowed his brow. "I hope this won't be serious, sir."

  David arched an eyebrow. "Why is that?"

  "Well, there was some trouble with theft and attacks on an ocean liner he commanded some months ago on which I served. It was an older and larger sister to this ship, but part of the same fleet. There was quite a strange air about the whole mystery that was never quite resolved."

  David slung his arm across Stewart's shoulder and turned our steward towards the door. He guided the young man to the entrance and patted him on the back. "I assure you there will be no thefts aboard this ship so long as I'm aboard."

  Stewart smiled. "I'm glad to hear it, sir. If you'll both excuse me."

  He hurried out to attend to his other charges. David turned to me with a furrowed brow.

  I frowned. "I don't like that look."

  He walked over to me and paused to cup his chin in one hand. "I doubt a slight case of burglary is what's bothering the captain."

  I groaned and plopped myself onto a cushion of the couch. "You promised me an adventure-free time."

  He dropped his hand and smiled at me. "I promise there won't be any strange, unexplained thefts while we're here."

  The
couch faces the TV and the wall with the balcony. Movement behind him caught my eye and I looked past David at the large sliding-glass door.

  A flailing boy hung off the railing.

  2

  I jumped to my feet and pointed at the balcony. "David!"

  David spun around and splayed his fingers. His fingernails were lengthened before he realized the trouble. He clenched his fists and raced to the sliding door. The boy, a lad of about ten, tried to pull himself up, but one of his hands slipped. He fell back, and I saw his fingers slide slowly off the railing. David flung open the door and leapt out. He caught the boy's hand just as his short fingers slipped over the edge.

  David pulled him over the railing and set him on the ground. The boy pushed David away and scooted to the far corner of the balcony. The stranger's wide eyes flickered from David to me as I approached the open door. It gave me time to see the boy was clothed in rags and his disheveled brown hair covered his eyes. A distinct odor wafted from his dirty person.

  David knelt on the ground and held out his hand to the boy. "We won't hurt you." David shuffled closer. The boy pressed farther into the corner. David dropped his arm. "What's your name?" The boy clamped his mouth shut and shook his head.

  A pounding on the door alerted us to more trouble. "Is anyone in there?" a gruff voice shouted.

  David stood and strode past me, but not before he partially shut the curtains to hide our 'guest.' He reached the door and opened it to reveal three ship employees. Two stood behind a burly fellow with dark eyes and a heavy beard.

  "I'm sorry to interrupt you, sir, but there's been reports of a stowaway climbing the balconies," the burly man informed him. "We were wondering if you've seen him. He's a boy of about ten dressed in some ratty clothes."

  My eyes flickered to the young man. His eyes were wide and his knees were brought up against his chest with his arms wrapped around them. He didn't breathe.

  David tilted his head back and squinted his eyes as he rubbed his chin. "A boy of ten in ratty clothes? Can't say I've seen that combination lately."

  The employee bowed his head. "Well, if you see him can you please alert any of the crew?"

  David smiled and nodded. "Of course. And happy hunting."

  The men left and David shut the door. He strode over to the sliding-glass door and peeked around the corner at the boy. "You're safe for now, but not if you stay out here where people can see you."

  The boy frowned, but slowly uncurled himself. We stepped into the suite and the boy reluctantly followed. David shut the door behind him and drew the rest of the curtains to shut out prying eyes.

  My eyes flickered to David. "So what are you planning on doing with a stowaway?"

  "I'm not a stowaway!" the boy piped up.

  David held out his hand to the boy. "Then do you mind if we see your ticket?"

  The boy sullenly looked at the ground. "I don't have one. . ."

  David folded his arms and studied the boy. "You know, I could pull some strings with the captain. He's a friend of mine." The boy lifted his head and stared wide-eyed at David. David swept his eyes over the boy's ragged appearance. "Of course, you'll have to agree to some changes. If anybody sees you in that they'll definitely think you're a stowaway."

  The boy looked down at his clothes. "What's wrong with 'em?"

  David chuckled. "You're wearing the official attire of a street urchin, my friend. By-the-by, what is your name? We can't exactly keeping calling you 'boy' or 'hey you!'"

  The boy glared at him. "It's Oliver, and get it into your heads now that I ain't gonna be called Ollie, got it?"

  David arched an eyebrow, but the crooked grin on his lips didn't leave. "All right, Oliver. What made you climb our balcony?"

  Oliver's eyebrows crashed down. "Whadda ya mean by that? I got stuck in the room beneath this one, and when I heard the people in there call for those white-shirts I needed some place to go."

  David nodded at the sliding-glass door. "Our balcony is one the highest floor, and there are several floors lower that would have been easier to climb down to." David leaned down and met Oliver's eyes. "So why climb up?"

  Oliver squirmed in his seat and averted his eyes. "I just climbed, okay? I wasn't thinking about which way."

  David straightened and dropped his arms to his sides. "All right, we'll drop the subject for now. What's more important right now is that you get a bath before the 'white-shirts' follow your scent back to our room."

  Oliver whipped his head to David and glared at him. "I'm not gonna be here for long, and I ain't taking a-hey!"

  David had stepped to the back of the couch and picked the young boy up by his armpits. He hugged Oliver's back to his chest and carried him above the ground towards the master suite.

  Oliver kicked and squirmed. "Lemme go! Lemme go! This is harassment!"

  "You can take it up with the captain, but after we're through," David replied.

  I followed the indignation parade to the bathroom and watched David drop the young boy into the large tub. Oliver tried to scramble out, but David pushed him back and turned one of the handles. Hot, steaming water poured from the faucet and filled the tub.

  "I'm still wearing my clothes!" Oliver pointed out.

  "They need a cleaning, too," David replied.

  I leaned against the open doorway and folded my arms. "Do I need to separate you boys?"

  David grabbed the collar of Oliver's shirt and pulled it off the young lad. It revealed his pale, skeletal frame, and I cringed when I saw long cut marks down his chest and sides. David dropped the shirt into the water and knelt in front of the tub. His eyes swept over the scarred wounds before they flickered to Oliver.

  The young boy ducked into the rising water and covered himself with his arms. "What are you looking at?"

  "I wish you'd tell us," David returned.

  Oliver turned his face away and pursed his lips. "They're nothing."

  "That's a lot of pain there for nothing," David countered.

  Oliver sank lower into the water. Steam dampened his oily hair. David sighed and stood. He turned to me and jerked his thumb at the young boy. "Mind taking care of him while I go to the captain? His men need to be told to stop their wild goose chase."

  "Yeah, the scrawny turkey's been found," I quipped as I looked past him at the boy. "But what am I supposed to do with him? Put him in front of the TV?"

  David half-turned to Oliver, who watched us with narrowed eyes. "He won't really be recognizable when he's clean, so you two could tour the ship. I'll find you when I'm done with the captain and give you the grand tour."

  "I can show her around," Oliver spoke up.

  David arched an eyebrow. "Aren't you a little young for a cruise director."

  Oliver glared at him. "This ain't the first time I snuck aboard something like this, so I know my way around."

  David turned to me. "It's up to you."

  I shrugged. "Why not? He can't get me any more lost than I could on my own."

  "Hey! Don't I get a say in this?" asked our drowned rat.

  David returned his attention to the waif and smiled. "No." He turned away and strode towards the door, but paused beside me. His tense gaze caught mine. "If there's trouble, call me."

  I arched an eyebrow. "How? I don't have your phone number."

  A sly smile slipped onto his lips and he tapped his ear. "Just give a yell. I'll hear you."

  And with that he left, leaving me with a pre-honeymoon vacation without a pre-groom and a mess of trouble in the skinny wet boy in the tub.

  I glanced at the waif. He glared at me. At least, I think he glared at me. I leaned towards him and squinted. "You need your hair cut. You look like a shaggy dog."

  Oliver parted his hair so I could see his eyes. "I ain't gonna have you cut my hair."

  I shrugged. "Good because then you'd look like a dog with mange, but I think I saw a barber shop listed on one of the brochures."

  He raised his arms. Water dripped off in long wate
rfalls. "I'm not going nowhere like this. They'll catch me for sure."

  "Let me see what we've got in your size," I told him.

  I stepped back into the bedroom and rummaged through David's suitcase. Splashing noises came from the bathroom, and in a few seconds Oliver appeared in the doorway. The young boy was hunched over and his hair covered his eyes. A white towel was wrapped around his skinny midsection and he dripped all over the floor.

  He pushed the hair out of his way and scowled at me. "I'm clean enough. You got those clothes yet?"

  I held up a small dress shirt and pants. "These will take some tucking and magic with pins, but we should get them to work."

  He wrinkled his nose. "I ain't wearing those."

  "Good, because you are," I quipped. "Now hold still and this torture will be over quickly for both of us."

  3

  The young ragamuffin was duly dressed and presented in front of a mirror. He stuck his tongue out at his appearance.

  "I look stupid."

  I rolled my eyes and turned him away from the distasteful reflection. "We'll get you something else later. You promised to show me the ship, right?"

  He shrugged. "I guess. What do ya wanna see first?"

  I mimicked his shrug. "I don't know. What's a good place to see?"

  He furrowed his brow and tapped his chin. "Well-" his eyes flickered to me, "there is the stage. That's a big swanky place where all the performances are."

  I smiled at him and swept my hand towards the bedroom door. "Sounds interesting. Lead the way."

  Oliver led me through the maze of halls to one of the upper floors. The stage theater was close to a film theater, and both shared a grand lobby with a concession stand and stairway access to the balconies in the play theater. The stairs were roped off with a sign that read 'No Entrance.' The faint sounds of a rehearsal drifted through the closed theater doors.

  Oliver tugged on my arm and pointed at the flight of stairs. "Let's go up there."

  I frowned. "We're not supposed to."

  He scoffed. "I ain't even supposed to be on this ship, so let's go."

  The lobby was empty so we had no troubles ducking under the rope and climbing the stairs. Oliver opened the door and presented us with a darkened balcony filled with shadows of chairs. We tiptoed down the row of chairs and stopped at the bottom. The balcony was circular and rose some thirty feet off the floor. We were about seventy feet from the stage. Not quite nosebleed, but close enough.