Bambi's Alien Abduction Page 6

  Why wouldn’t he and his men do all they could to save one another?

  I have no idea if Oathar is awake or not when I ask, “Would it be so bad?”

  There is no immediate answer, so I assume he’s asleep until he responds, “What would be this bad?”

  “Would it be so bad if your men cared enough about your welfare to come after you?”

  “I’m Yon Tor. If I cannot save myself, I do not deserve to live.”

  “They’re your men, Oathar. It would be dishonorable for them not to try to save you. Don’t you care about each other?”

  “I do not understand this.”

  “And I do not understand you.”

  Oathar strokes a hand down my hair. “It is not your duty to understand. Sleep now, Bombee,” he says in a tired voice. “You can philosophize bad things tomorrow.”

  He doesn’t say what my duty is, but we both know what it is. My duty is to have his babies. Babies I’m then supposed to abandon.

  My parents may have loved me in their own selfish way, but they weren’t active parents. I was the result of a Vegas-style one-night stand. My father demanded a DNA test before he’d even start sending child support. My mom loved being a showgirl and hated being a mother. I was ten when I met and stayed with my dad for the first time. And my mother made him take me that summer. She wanted to go away for three months to perform on a cruise ship.

  In turn, my father pawned me off because of his tour schedule, but luckily that’s how I met Brook and Bri.

  Even after having supportive best friends, I couldn’t help but feel abandoned over the years. I could never do that to my child, even a half-alien one.

  Oathar’s breathing grows deep and long, and I know he is asleep, but I’m having a hard time quieting my mind. My friends are out there in this new galaxy, and I’m here worrying about an emotionless lizard king.

  Are they out there doing all they can to try to get to me? Are they even still together?

  A part of me wants to sneak out while the men are sleeping and try to steal a hover car. If I can get one working, I could make it to the docking bay and…not be able to operate a spacecraft, even if I managed to break into one.

  My plan is crap.

  I have no idea how anything works. It’s frustrating, but I must bide my time here if I want to have a real shot at saving my friends. I just hope they’ll still be alive by the time I find them.

  Silent tears track down my face at the unbidden thought.

  Please let them be safe.

  I must whimper or make some noise because Oathar pulls me in tighter. Even in sleep, he protects me. I turn into his embrace. He may be my captor but I seek comfort from him nonetheless. And make no mistake, lying against his wide chest, wrapped in his powerful arms, I do feel safe.

  With that disturbingly comforting thought I fall asleep.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Earth Girl’s Guide to Surviving an Alien Abduction

  Tip #47

  Never fall in lust with your alien captor.

  #TrustMe #ItCouldHappen

  BAMBI

  Morning comes much too early. Even without being drugged, I’m still groggy. The men are already up and at ‘em. They no longer wear fur vests but still sport their leather pants and boots. Oathar crouches down beside me and offers me a skin of water.

  I try not to gape at all his chiseled maleness. Maleness that had been wrapped around me all night. Funny how I’m much more aware of it now than I was then. Yawning and stretching, I reach out for the water, hoping it’s not the intoxicating kind from the ship.

  Oathar hands me the skin, but his eyes have gone sultry, and his gaze rakes over me. His wandering gaze stops where my shirt has ridden up exposing my midriff, and then again on my breasts.

  I don’t need a mirror to tell me I’m wrecked. My hair is in tangles around my face, and gritty sand coats my body. Yet, Beast Boy’s eyes are eating me up like I’m a decadent dessert. Not going to lie; it’s a boost to my ego on so many levels.

  I sit up on one elbow to drink, making sure to let the blanket fall down a little farther and expose some thigh.

  Yeah, I have issues.

  He pulls the cover down to my ankles, skimming his fingers up my leg and making a disgruntled sound at the sight of the scratches and bruises there. “Your human skin is so delicate. Are you experiencing pain?”

  I shake my head. My mouth’s gone dry from his gentle caresses.

  “By nightfall, we shall be at my domicile. I can properly care for you there.” It’s clear from the gleam in his eyes and the stretch in the front of his pants he’s looking forward to that event.

  I don’t know why Beast Boy’s attention turns me on, but warmth unfurls low in my belly from his blatant appreciation. I should have dated more after my last breakup. Maybe then, I wouldn’t be throwing myself at an extraterrestrial.

  Adjusting himself—holy billy club, ladies—he stands and walks over to the fire pit where Jhyr seems to be preparing something. The smell of cooking meat is in the air, and it’s not horrible, which is promising.

  Curious, I pad over. They’re eating the scorpzilla from last night. My grossed-out factor is warring with how decent the cooked meat smells. My mouth’s watering, and my stomach rumbles.

  Jhyr thrusts a morsel of meat at me on the end of his dagger. He gazes at me expectantly. I did get him into trouble with Oathar last night. Maybe this is a bit of a peace offering. I pluck the hot meat off the tip of the knife, but not so bravely take a tentative nibble.

  My eyes roll at how good it tastes. I pop the whole thing into my mouth and make yummy sounds that draw the attention of Oathar and Niin.

  “This is really good,” I tell them as a way of explanation. Scorpzilla meat tastes like a pork chop and is exactly what I’ve been needing in my life. I may be on some bizarre planet, but at least I know I’m not going to starve to death.

  Jhyr’s face perks up, seeming pleased that I like it, he hands me two thick strips of meat to eat and pats my head. He then wraps up the exoskeleton in a cloth and heads outside to presumably dispose of the remains.

  This is the second time he’s patted me on the head like that. It seems kind of patronizing and I have a feeling he considers me as a puppy or something, but I kind of like it. Especially since the man made me delicious Alogorian meat I can actually eat.

  I’m licking my fingers clean when Oathar waves me over to the opening. “Come, Bombee.” He gives me the dictate in his usual arrogant tone before he gracefully maneuvers through the opening to the outside.

  I slip on my flimsy sandals—which are much better suited for a French plaza than desert terrain—and follow. I’m a lot less graceful crawling through the wide opening. I nearly lose a shoe.

  At least Oathar is there on the other side to watch me flounder.

  Arms crossed over his chest, he waits for me. I barely make it to my feet before he’s brushing dirt and sand off my boobs. Nowhere else. Just the chestal area.

  When the ladies are cleaned off, he turns and starts walking away.

  I huff in exasperation. “Thanks for the helping hand.” I roll my eyes and brush off the rest of myself.

  “Come, now.” He puts up a hand signal for me to follow—just in case I wasn’t getting the message.

  The man tells me to come a lot. Will it be the same way when we get down to business—which, from the glint in his eye and ever-present billy club in his pants, I know is inevitable. I can imagine his face buried in my happy land again as he imperiously mumbles “come” from between my thighs.

  The image warms me way more than it should, but also makes me giggle. Oathar turns, giving me a strange look. He then stares at my jiggling boobs as I lean over to brush off my skirt and legs, which makes me giggle even harder.

  “You are a fully developed human, yes?”

  I stop what I’m doing and give my ladies he’s been admiring a pointed look, then flick my gaze back to his. “Umm, yeaah,” I retort without thinkin
g, having no idea where he’s going with this. “Why do you ask?”

  “Your sounds of joyful mischief remind me of a ling.”

  I think he may be joking with me, but I can’t tell. “Is that Alogorian humor?”

  He shoots me a glance over his shoulder while he walks, and damned if it isn’t almost playful.

  It’s morning, but the sun is already hot. Wiping my brow, I notice not one, not two, but three suns in the sky. Holy Mother of Skin Cancer and Heat Stroke, I hope air conditioning and SPF lotion are things here.

  All around us is hard flat desert land to the right and, in the distance, to the left is the vast mountain range. The soaring peaks aren’t like mountains on Earth. They’re made up of a cool plum-purplish colored rock and seem to rise forever. Some kind of trees that dot the foothills that remind me of cherry blossoms. The effect is gorgeous, and probably why there’s a floral scent in the air.

  I wonder if Beast Boy knows how exceedingly girly his mountains and desert are.

  I trip and stumble over a little tuft of something. It’s like grass, but it’s pink and purple. There are little masses scattered along the terrain.

  “Is this dangerous?” I ask pointing to the cluster.

  Oathar turns. He shakes his head and makes a pfft face like my question is ridiculous, but how am I supposed to know what anything is? Reaching down, he plucks a blade from the ground and hands it to me. “There are plains of this near the forests and water. we use to make baskets and such.”

  “So, it is grass,” I say with excitement, rubbing the waxy blade between my fingers. I pluck some long strands from the ground and start braiding them to make a hair tie. If I have to be captive on a weird planet, at least I can accessorize.

  Niin is flying toward us in a hovercraft. Squinting, I can make out the outcropping rock formation where we had parked the vehicles. It has to be at least a mile or so away. Jhyr ran that far with me in his arms, dodging lightning bolts all the way.

  It’s amazing he didn’t strain a something.

  When Jhyr comes out of the dugout with his arms piled with spears that Oathar takes from him, it’s all I can do to keep myself from giving Jhyr a big hug, but I don’t know how well that would go over. I don’t want to get him in trouble with Oathar again, or make him uncomfortable, so I just give him an affectionate pat on his arm hoping to relay how much I appreciate him carrying me through the storm.

  Surprise registers on his face for a second then in turn he pats me on the head.

  We’re really connecting. Standing here. Patting each other.

  Oathar is loading metal tipped spears onto the side of our hovercraft and, in the distance, Niin looks like a dot. He’s already at the outcropping where the vehicles are. How fast do these guys run?

  I point to the spears. “What are those for?”

  “Huzah.”

  “Huzzah? Like ‘hooray’?” I do some jazz hands as I say it, because who can say huzzah or hooray without jazz hands?

  He gives me a look that clearly indicates he thinks I’m crazy, before describing a huzzah to me. His explanation isn’t quite clear. It roughly translates “land shark” as he holds his hands up high and then wide, baring his teeth in a scary face. He ends his entire description with, “Very dangerous. You do not go near huzah.”

  “Yeah, I’ll be sure to avoid that.” Land shark? That sounds terrifying. I scan the desert around us. As tasty as last night’s scorpzilla was, I’m not eager for any more run-ins with Alogorian wildlife.

  “Hey, do you have any guns? Like super high-tech cool ones with lasers or something?” I, for one, would feel much better out here with a gun. I’m not sure how skilled I’d be at knife throwing.

  “Ghon?”

  “You know.” I make a gun shape with my fingers, pretending to shoot. “Peow, peow.”

  Recognition crosses his face. “Yes, ghons. I know these. They are not allowed on Lehor.”

  “The whole planet?”

  “Yes.”

  “Whoa, strict. If you block out the genitalia on your anime porn, you’d really be giving Japan a run for their money.”

  “I do not understand this.”

  “Me neither. It’s not like we don’t all know what those freaky little cartoon characters are doing.”

  Oathar shakes his head at me and loads me into the hovercraft. I get a thrill every time one of these guys lifts me up as if I’m a feather.

  “Remember. You will stay by me, Jhyr, or Niin at all times.”

  “Right. Stay within sight of the grownups.”

  He gives me a stern glare at that. “You must show deference to me and my men. The mines are packed with male species from all over the galaxy. If you were to be disrespectful in front of them, I would have to discipline you there in front of them.”

  Eek. No thanks. I don’t even have to know what punishment entails. “Got it. Best behavior.” I give him a little salute, and his face scrunches. I can see he’s trying to decide whether it’s in earnest or not. “Pinky promise,” I say presenting my little finger. I wiggle the digit at him, but he just eyes my digit.

  Reaching out of the hovercraft, I grab his wrist and wrap my little pinky around his big one.

  A jolt goes through me at his touch. From the searching way he’s looking at me, I think he may have experienced it, too. I forget what I’m supposed to be saying as we stare at each other. I can’t even remember why I took his pinky in the first place.

  Oh, right.

  I’m promising to behave.

  For some reason, the words won’t materialize.

  Awkwardly, I clear my throat. Our hands slide apart slowly, the tips of our fingers holding on as if loath to let go. The second we’re no longer touching, the spell is broken, and I look away, taking a deep breath.

  Trying to dispel the charge in the air around us, I hold up three fingers, Girl Scout style. “I swear not to do, or say anything out of line.” My tone doesn’t come out as playful as I intend, and I start rambling. “Well, you’ve gotten a pinky swear and Girl Scout’s oath, so that should do it.” Heat moves up my chest and over my cheeks at his scrutiny. I pat my hair, looking anywhere but at him.

  He continues to watch me with his discerning golden gaze for a second more before he nods and moves to get into the driver’s seat.

  Remembering my vow to figure out a way to find Brook and Bri, I lean forward and casually ask, “Can I drive?” Oathar does the face people make when they’ve smelt something bad. I put my hands up in mock surrender. “Geez, just asking.” But I’m glad for his annoyance. It’s shaken off the strange haze hanging over me.

  After Oathar is seated, I lean over him, careful to prop my breast against his shoulder, and ask, “If I’m really, really, really good at the mines, will you at least teach me how to use it?”

  “Perhaps.”

  I gasp and squeal in excitement. “Promise?”

  “Bombee,” he says with exasperation.

  I give him a loud smacking kiss on the cheek, smiling triumphantly as I plop down in my seat, ignoring how my lips tingle just from the simple smooch. “Sitting, and being an angel.”

  ~*~*~

  Blessedly, it’s cool inside the hovercraft. Even though the dome enclosing us is glass, it’s still uncomfortably confining inside this thing. We fly forever before we turn and enter a tunnel. It’s completely dark in some of the twists and turns. I have no idea how Oathar can see to steer, and I have to keep myself from freaking. Finally, there is a light at the end of the tunnel, and I totally get the significance of that saying. Super relief to be in the light again. I’m pretty sure we’re out on the other side of the mountains.

  More desert stretches in front of us, most of the area rocky as we fly parallel to the mountains. I gasp a huge opening that appears in the side of the huge peaks. We fly into what I’m assuming is a primitive city. It’s like the inside of an ant colony, with multiple round openings at each level. Some wider than others. Light streams in from an opening far ab
ove everything.

  And the workers.

  Oh.

  My.

  God.

  I know Oathar said there would be men from other planets, but everywhere I look are extraordinary alien beings. Some are really skinny short haired Chewbaccas, while a few are like the multi-armed thing that injected the translation chip in my head. There are even squat, round slimy aliens who remind me of the mucus on the Mucinex commercials.

  By the time Oathar flies over to a docking bay and lands, I know my eyes have to be bugging out. I totally have tourist face. If we were anywhere on Earth, I’d be getting mugged, for sure.

  I sigh my relief when the glass over us slides back. When he lifts me out of the hovercraft, all playfulness from earlier is gone. He’s got his game face on. Jhyr and Niin appear equally somber.

  This is the Yon Tor of Alogoria and his right-hand men.

  Two big Alogorians in pants, boots, and naked muscular chests greet us by first bowing to Oathar then taking his hand like they’re going to arm wrestle, but instead of keeping their arms extended, they bring them in to bump elbows. They do this same special super-bro handshake with Jhyr and Niin.

  One of the men is tall and broad, like all the Alogorians I’ve seen thus far, and the other is shorter and much more on the husky side. I kind of assumed big ’n tall was the Alogorian physique. I’m surprised they come in different sizes, and I can’t quit staring.

  I can tell the moment they notice me. Their spooky golden Alogorian gazes fill with surprise then curious interest. Making a fist over their chests, they bow to me. Oathar clears his throat and sends them a severe from. Quickly, they straighten and avert their eyes before steering us down a tunnel away from the main hive area.

  We all pile into a small room with a sleek black floor. I startle when the room starts descending. We’re in an elevator or lift of some kind open to the rough rock walls. There is no door on the front of it. We pass several openings before the lift comes to a smooth stop at a tunnel opening.

  There are dim recessed track lights illuminating our way. For that I’m, grateful. I’m getting the impression these guys don’t need much if any light to be able to see. The lights also seem to be the warming kind, which is a nice feature in the damp chill of the tunnels.