Chapter 13

ZOE

" I … ummm…" I stand to the side, watching as my mate Taruk attempts to address the gathered crowd of aliens. Attempted is the optimal word, as he's not doing a very good job of it. Not that it stops me from cheering him on. I'm coming to suspect that my mate has performance anxiety… thankfully not when it counts, though.

The audience before him shifts rather restlessly. I'm half expecting someone to scream at him to hurry up. There's such a weird mix of emotions in the room. Most of the aliens are nervous, just waiting for the results. A few aliens that look remarkably like angels are preening feathers, splaying wings wide—they obviously think they've done remarkably well. And that slime cube… thing… well, I can't tell if its bubbling is a good thing or if it's deflating.

"The Yum-Yums have all been caught," Taruk states into the microphone. Very undramatically. In a monotone voice.

Oh, the poor guy. He is really not good at public speaking.

Then again, maybe the lackluster voice is like one of those announcers that just drag out the event, causing everyone to be waiting on a knife's edge of anticipation. I mean, I'm hanging on to his every word.

"You have no idea how relieved I am that this is resolved," Prince Rist mutters beside me, keeping his voice quiet enough that only I can hear. "And you'll probably be happy to know we've tracked down their native planet. The Yum-Yums will be going home."

I smile at that. As sad as I am about losing my chance at a cuddly pet, everyone deserves a home. Even me. It took me a while to find my place here. I think falling in love helped. I guess the saying ‘home is where the heart is' is true, after all.

My eyes jump to a red-skinned alien practically jumping from foot to foot. Rathdalia is standing amidst one of the teams of human women—maybe the one I sort of dropped out of mid-event. I might feel a little guilty about letting down my team, but it's a good thing they managed to pick up our resident critic.

Rathdalia is the only Volscian guest at the hotel—and all the other Volscians were already on a team or busy working. You know, stopping the guests from literally tearing apart the hotel in the process.

It turns out our guests tend to stick to their own species. Poor Rathdalia had resigned himself to competing solo. Honestly, I'm actually glad he ended up joining a team. He's enjoyed the event more than anyone, I think, especially when surrounded by friends. Even better: now the other aliens, the ones who turned him away for being different, are wishing they were him—surrounded by females.

He's so happy. He looks like a kid about to be let into a candy shop.

"Ummm, so we've also got a surprise. The teams that did the best are going to get some awards," Taruk continues. He holds up the palm cards I made him, squinting. Of course, whatever tension was in the room has now doubled. The crowd presses closer…

Are we going to have a riot? Is this how they begin? Cause I swear some of these aliens look like they are ready to spill blood they are so eager for those results. All over a bit of a fun competition!

"In third place, getting a free night in our most luxurious rooms, is team Khamarian."

The crowd goes wild. Some aliens moan and others cheer, and the slime cube makes a gurgling noise. Meanwhile, in the middle of the crowd, three snake-like dudes start bouncing around, waving their arms. They don't have lower legs; in fact, their entire lower bodies are just tails. They look a bit like nagas from fantasy lore. Or those inflatable tubes that you always see outside of car sales lots. They've even got the arm and head waving around down pat, swaying in an invisible wind.

I guess every species must have that weird generation that does some sort of power pose or dance when they win at something. Good for them I guess. At least they aren't dabbing, human style.

"In second place…" Taruk reads in his impressively slow style—I'm starting to think he's doing this on purpose, by the way. That, or he can't read. Maybe he can't read??

"Getting a full-course meal from our galactic-renowned chef Nolan, is beeeeppp!"

I wince, rubbing at my ear. The implanted translator really did not like whatever that word was. Which just begs the question… what is that team called?! It usually only beeps like that when one of us tries to swear, or when it has a personal vendetta against the occasional word—like "mandarins." Translators do not like mandarins, which seriously sucks as they can be quite delicious.

At the front of the crowd, the slime cube jiggles and bubbles frantically. I really, really hope that means it's celebrating and not about to, you know… explode or anything. How did it even catch the Yum-Yums anyway? It doesn't even have arms and hands to shoot the cretins.

"And finally, our winner…" Taruk announces. The hall falls quiet, deathly so. Females are kind of rare in this universe, somehow. The chance to spend time with multiple… well, some would kill for that apparently. It's not something we are actively advertising about our hotel, yet. "Our winner will get to spend the evening with several young human females."

"Wait, what?" I gasp. I glance around at the other women standing nearby, shock and concerns on their faces. Laura, beside me, has turned ghostly white at the idea.

"Are we being pimped out now? Who decided this? I swear… whoever's idea this was, we are going to stick Elana on them so fast they won't know what hit them!"

Taruk frowns down at the palm card, scratching his head. He glances over his shoulder at Rist, who's hanging out off the side of the stage. "Are you sure?"

"Taruk!" I snap, "Just tell us who won! We are dying to know."

Taruk's eyes jump to mine, like he's shocked to find me of all people demanding an answer from him. Me too, buddy. But seriously, the anticipation is killing us all here.

"I mean, he's basically done that all day. And is now too. I don't really see the difference." Taruk shrugs when Rist just urges him on. "Well, our first place winner is Team Girls and Rathdalia!"

The crowd goes wild, hooting and howling and whatever else they do. Meanwhile, Rathdalia is standing dumbstruck. He looked so happy to be included in something. To be the first prize winner though… he doesn't seem to know what to do with himself as aliens pat him on the back and a couple of the girls even give him huge hugs.

"Don't worry, we'll stick Elana on whoever's idea it was later," I tell her. I can't help but smile at the older male's reaction. It's become a bit of an unspoken rule between us all; no one yet has charged the old Volscian for his stay here at the hotel. With this performance, I doubt anyone will notice his bill going missing entirely. "Still, I'm glad he's finally found his home, even if it is at a hotel of all places."

"I guess if the girls don't mind, then it's okay then," Laura mutters beside me. She's still tense, but a small smile curves her lips at the male's tender moment. "Wait, is he… crying?"

Sure enough, Rathdalia is sniffing gallantly, trying not to show how emotional he's getting. He even takes off his cowboy hat, holding it before him like a shield. And of course, Team Girls just flock to their teammate with affection and laughter.

"I think this has been the best event so far," Rathdalia says, clearing his throat and blinking rapidly as he tries to compose himself. "I guess it's time to write a glowing review of the latest event at the alien hotel."

THE END…