Free Taken (Calliston Series - Book 1) by Erica Conroy Page B

nodded. "As are several of my sisters."
    Viktor groaned.
    "Why?"
    "They've all been flirting with me," he said. "At first I thought it was stupid given what you had told me about Lyrissian mating, but now…"
    "Flirting?" S'rea asked.
    "Enticing into mating," Viktor said.
    "Do not be absurd," S'rea said. "With the exception of my niece, they are all mated. Lyrissians are not like U-mans. There is no divorce ."
    Viktor let it go. She was probably right. Her sisters were just being friendly and welcoming to the strange alien their father had brought home. They were not human women rebelling against daddy with an unsuitable man. He ran a hand through his hair and forced a smile. "Sorry. I'm tired."
    The door behind them opened, revealing Ne'a. "There you are," she said, and stepped out into the Lyrissian night.
    Viktor and S'rea shuffled away from each other and let Ne'a join them. The young Lyrissian pushed herself between them and smiled up at Viktor. "I was looking everywhere for you," she told him.
    "I was right here," he said. "Talking with your aunt and Harom."
    "Harom does not talk," Ne'a said. "He is mute. Mute and nose dead."
    S'rea answered Viktor's unasked question: "Harom suffered an accident that destroyed his olfactory system."
    Viktor nodded and looked over at Harom. That would explain why Tarn let him guard his daughter. Harom was the Lyrissian equivalent of a eunuch.
    Something touched Viktor's thigh, and he knew it wasn't S'rea. He looked down at Ne'a, who grinned back at him. He was not being absurd like S'rea claimed. Her niece was definitely hitting on him. What he didn't understand was why she kept rubbing her neck. Still, he had no idea how to dissuade her, at least not without touching her and giving everyone the wrong idea. There was no way he would mate with Tarn's granddaughter, especially not one who was the equivalent of a sixteen-year-old human girl.
    Viktor needed a way to put the girl off. The only thing he could think of was just a bit gross, but it was a surefire way to turn off women everywhere. He just hoped Lyrissian females had the same sensitive sense of smell as their male counterparts.
    All three Lyrissians jumped at the strange sound that came from Viktor. Harom was the only one not to react to what followed it.
    "What, what is that smell?" Ne'a said. She gagged and covered her nose.
    S'rea also looked discomfited but said nothing.  
    "It smells like death," Ne'a continued. "What is it?"
    Viktor shrugged. "It's called a fart," he explained calmly. "It's a normal human male reaction to fertile females."
    Ne'a hissed. It was a very good imitation of the noise S'rea usually made. "I think I will return to the party," she suddenly declared, and ran back inside.
    S'rea glared at Viktor. Her hand covered her nose and she looked as if she too would leave.
    "Sorry. Breathe through your mouth," he said. "It'll disperse soon."
    She did has he instructed, and after a while the smell was gone. "Is that true?" she finally asked him.
    Viktor raised an eyebrow at her and asked, "How often have I farted when I was around you?"
    "Never," she replied. "You did that for her benefit?"
    He nodded. "Crude, but it worked. She's a bit young for me."
    "Thank you," she said. "I must also apologize. I did not believe you until I observed my niece attempt to flirt with you."
    "Don't worry about it."
    "Just do not make that smell again in my presence," she said. "Ever."
    Viktor grinned. "No man could ever promise that," he said, and turned back to the sky to enjoy the rise of the triple moons.
    * * *
    S'rea reentered her father's house with Viktor and Harom in tow. Even though she also lived there and would until she mated, it would always be her father's house. She watched as several female members of her family avoided the U-man when he came near. He smiled at her. Obviously Ne'a had warned them about the terrible stench he emitted. S'rea had to admit that it was a novel way of avoiding female posturing.
    S'rea