Bambi's Alien Abduction Page 8

  Offended, I toss Lyhnx a scathing glare over my shoulder. “I’ve got this.”

  Two blue guys wearing robes are coming at us. One of them wears a glowing blue ring he holds up in front of him. I’d bet my favorite Shoepie rose-gold leather and rhinestone platform heels, that blue ring is the key to Lyhnx’s collar.

  “Step aside, human,” the blue guy not wearing the ring booms.

  I glance at Lyhnx. “My friend’s names are Brook and Brianna. One has honey-blonde hair and the other has red hair, but she likes to say it’s auburn. It’s red.” Without giving myself time to think about how stupid a plan this is, I scream and charge straight at the guy wearing the ring.

  He catches me by the throat and holds me up in the air.

  I was so not expecting that.

  I clutch his hand and try to breathe. I kind of thought I’d I hit him just right and we’d go down. Instead, I’m struggling for breath. I claw at the hand and wrist holding my throat. Curling my fingers around his, I find the one with the ring on it, but I have no idea how it works.

  “Release my human.” Oathar. His menacing command makes me shiver.

  The Zapex only narrows his creepy green glowing eyes before lowering me. The second his grip on me slackens, I wrench the ring from his finger and fling it to the ground. I stumble, but manage to bring my heel down on it hard. I hear a satisfying crunch and smile in triumph.

  “It worked,” I say to no one in particular.

  Holy crapola, it worked!

  There is no time to celebrate my victory. A hands cracks across my face with pro-pimp force. I hit the hard ground with a thud, gasping for breath. Damn, I shouldn’t have skipped those defense classes.

  Oathar’s furious roar rings out in the tunnel. Everything delves into chaos.

  Oathar lunges at the Zapex who slapped me. There’s an audible crunch of bone as the Zapex’s head snaps back from Oathar’s mighty fist.

  The other Zapex grabs Lyhnx by the arm like a recalcitrant child. The Monrok lifts him by his fancy robes, flinging him down the tunnel in a flash of blue silk. Lyhnx is rushing toward me, but suddenly I’m up off the ground, honey brown arms around me.

  We spin, and I cling to the chest I’m locked against. For a moment, I’m disoriented. I look up, expecting to see Oathar’s face, but it’s Jhyr who holds me, his body shielding me from the chaos, and we’re fleeing down the tunnel. I peer around his shoulder and scramble in his arms, trying to get away. Lyhnx is almost upon us, murderous intent on his face. He’ll kill Jhyr.

  “Leave,” I scream at Lyhnx from over Jhyr’s shoulder. “Please, find my friends.”

  There is a moment of confused indecision on his face.

  Jhyr, realizing the threat is near, puts me down and pivots to attack, but I throw myself in front of him to hold him off.

  “You’ve got to go!” Oathar has knocked out the Zapex who had slapped me, but is still fuming. If he catches Lyhnx…”Please, Lyhnx, go!” The pleading look in my eyes must convince him.

  Backing away, he puts his hand to his chest and quickly bows. “You are not wise, female, but you are brave,” he calls as he runs down the tunnel.

  “Well, that was pretty backhanded,” I tell Jhyr.

  With an angry growl, Oathar tears past us in pursuit of Lyhnx.

  “No! Oathar, wait!” I tear down after the men, only to be jerked back. It’s now I who strain in Jhyr’s hold as the men disappear from sight. I’m still struggling when a blast sounds. The ground under our feet shakes.

  “Oathar!”

  Jhyr puts me down and runs toward the rumble of falling rocks. I trail behind, trying to keep up. A cloud of dust and debris whooshes out and surrounds us. Jhyr scrambles back and grabs me, running in the opposite direction.

  “Oathar!” I call again. Terror grips my throat as I cough at the wave of dust billowing around us.

  Once we reach the end of the tunnel, nearest the lift, Jhyr sets me down. My heart pounds. The dust is settling, and I no longer choke on it. Jhyr’s expression is grim.

  “Do you think he’s all right?” It’s a stupid question. There was obviously a cave-in, and Oathar may have been in it. Jhyr’s gaze flicks to me and then down the tunnel, where I also set my gaze, hoping against hope Oathar’s big head and wide shoulders will appear out of the gloom. The track lighting overhead is still on, casting the tunnel in an eerie haze.

  I’m a selfish person because I’m as worried about myself as I am Oathar and Lyhnx. I need Lyhnx to be alive to find Brook and Bri, and I need Oathar…well, because.

  Right now, the two Zapex I helped Lyhnx escape from are rising and dusting themselves off. They eye me as if they’d like me to die of not-so-natural causes. I don’t think things are going to work out like the time I got out of a speeding ticket. Or my parking tickets. Or the one I got for indecent exposure.

  I step behind Jhyr, making myself as inconspicuous as possible.

  That’s when I hear thudding. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

  A demon spawned from the bowels of Hell, Oathar slowly stomps up the tunnel toward us. He’s covered in scratches and debris. His pants are torn up one leg, the jagged sides hanging open. The thick muscles of his exposed thigh show a deep cut that’s dark with blood a much darker color than red.

  My heart does a little pitter-patter that dies a quick death in my chest once his eyes full of fire and brimstone light on me. I shrink behind Jhyr, but it’s no use. A mountain couldn’t hide me from Oathar’s wrath.

  Fuming, he points a long finger in my face, claw out. “You.”

  My heart stills. There’s no one behind me, but I still look. “Me?”

  “You helped that Monrok get away,” he growls, and I fight the urge to pee myself.

  “Well, the thing about that is—”

  “Hsst. Do. Not. Dare. Speak.” He points to the Zapex. “I want you both gone from Lehor within the next quarter shift.”

  “We take the human.”

  “You want the human I was promised? The human I paid for?” Oathar’s voice is deadly calm, but every muscle in his body strains with his fury. His palm rests on the handle of a pretty wicked scythe at his hip. “Are the Zapex breaking trust with Alogoria?” I have a sneaking suspicion these guys don’t answer correctly, blood is going to spill.

  “The female attacked me. She needs to be put down.”

  “She is under Alogorian rule. She will be punished by Alogorian hand.” He side-eyes me, and I swallow. I know exactly whose Alogorian hand will be doing the punishing. “Now, as I said,” he continues, “leave. I will be contacting your leaders over this matter.”

  For a heated minute, the Zapex stare us down with as much malice and ill will as Oathar is shooting their way. From behind Jhyr, I can feel him tensed and ready for anything.

  A distracting shuffle of running footsteps and shouts turns our attention. Alogorians and other mine workers round the corner. Rescue workers, I’m guessing.

  With one last scathing glance in my direction and a flourish of their robes, the Zapex turn and stride down the tunnel in silence. The rescue workers part around them.

  A shiver goes down my spine. I haven’t had that much hate aimed in my direction since tenth grade when I showed up to homecoming with Nicole Miller’s newly ex-boyfriend, Tristan Spiegel. Just like then, I know I have made an enemy for life. Unlike Nicole Miller, the Zapex really will kill me, given half the chance.

  I think about what Lyhnx said about Lehor being in danger. “Oathar, there is something I have to tell you.”

  “You will address me as Yon Tor, when you are permitted to speak, human.” His voice is so cold, I shiver, shrinking back. He doesn’t even look at me.

  After the men bow to Oathar and ascertain the situation, he leads them down the tunnel to the site of the cave-in, and I trail behind. When they start moving the rubble, I step forward to help but get pulled back by Oathar. “You have done enough.”

  “Me? This wasn’t my fault.”

  Jhyr’s gla
re says he blames me for this shit, too. That stings.

  Taking my arm, Oathar drags me several meters away and then points to the floor.

  “Sit.”

  I plop down.

  “Stay.”

  My lower lip quivers, but I suck it in and stiffen my spine. This was not my fault. I cross my arms over my chest, resisting the urge to growl at him like the dog he’s treating me as. Just then, Niin appears, dragging a thundercloud over his head.

  Great. Just what I need.

  Surprisingly, he doesn’t even glance my way. Face set in grim lines, he bows deep to Oathar. Like scrape-the-ground deep. “My humblest apologies, Yon Tor. The Monrok—”

  “Hsst.” Oathar slices a hand through the air. “I do not want to hear your feeble excuses. Were any other tunnels affected?”

  Niin nods. “The one directly above. The tunnel was clear. No workers were harmed.”

  “That is fortunate.” Oathar gives me killer side-eye that conveys how disgusted he is with

  me in one glance. “Go help clear the passage.”

  Dejection painting every line of Niin’s body, he heads down the tunnel, and I can’t help but feel sorry for him. Lyhnx had him knocked out in two seconds flat. I doubt he saw it coming. “You didn’t have to be so mean. There was nothing he could have done.”

  From the pissed-off frown Oathar shoots me, he doesn’t share my opinion. “You will not speak again until directed to do so.”

  Lifting my chin and squaring my shoulders, I fight the urge to shrink under his stare. But it’s difficult. The man has authoritative intimidation down pat.

  His eyes roll away from me as if I’m not worth his attention any longer, and he turns, heading to the cave-in. I deflate where I sit, my cheek throbbing where I was hit.

  Even after watching the men work for what seems like house, I still gape in wonder as two multi-armed guys haul another cartload of rubble past me. The entire time, Oathar tirelessly works alongside the assortment of aliens, and it strikes me that he is an amazing leader, who obviously would never ask of anyone anything he wouldn’t willingly do himself.

  He’d probably carry his own babies, if he could.

  I’m sore and covered in grit, but I don’t move from my spot. I wish Oathar had let me help. The accusation the cave-in was my fault still rings in my ear. Guilt eats at me while I watch them trudge back and forth with carts full of earth and stone. While I may accept partial responsibility, what else was I supposed to do? Let Lyhnx be taken and killed by the Zapex?

  A little voice in my head reminds me my motives for helping the Monrok weren’t completely altruistic, but I ignore it. So what, I want him to find my friends. Either way, I couldn’t let him be killed.

  My ass is numb, and I’m dozing against the wall when a shadow falls over me. The first thing I see are dark boots and long legs encased in formfitting rough leather pants. My gaze tracks, up, up, up into the face of a young Alogorian his face twisted in a nasty pinched look expression like he’s smelling something foul.

  Tentatively, I sniff the air, wondering if it’s me. It has been a long day.

  “You must be my father’s hisham.”

  Father? Hisham? The word doesn’t translate, but from his snide tone I think the little pissant just slut-shamed me in Alogorian. “What did you just call me?”

  “Vhars,” Oathar barks, striding toward us.

  “I see you went through with your plan to import filthy creatures to breed subspecies.”

  Oathar doesn’t show surprise at his words, but his jaw clenches as if this is an old argument he’s not about to indulge in. “Where have you been? You were summoned over two shifts ago.”

  Vhars eyes trail away from his father’s pissed-off stare.

  Oathar points down the tunnel. “You will help finish clearing this tunnel. You will also help ensure the tunnel above is clear. Then you will mine in the yuhri sector for the next cycle.”

  “A cycle? As if I am some common—”

  Oathar gets right in his face. “You are whatever I tell you to be.”

  Chest to chest, father and son stare each other down. They are very similar in features, and I have a feeling this is what the younger Oathar looked like. Just when I think there is going to be a smackdown, Vhars grits out between his serrated teeth, “As you wish. Yon. Tor.” He turns, sneering at me. “I would not want to be replaced by whatever your hisham spawns.”

  Oathar has Vhars by the neck up against the wall so fast, I didn’t even see him move. From the stunned expression on Vhar’s face, he didn’t not see it coming, either.

  “You speak to me in deference or not at all. And do not dare question my choices. Everything I do, as all the Yon Tors have done before me, is for our people. A lesson you had better learn if you ever want to be ruler of Lehor.” He releases Vhar’s neck and steps back, but his features do not relax. “Get to work.”

  Ruler? Holy hot-pink panty hose, I just thought Yon Tor was a general or something.

  Vhars looks parts dumbfounded, angry, and hurt, but he says nothing more before he walks away.

  When Oathar turns, I’m pinned to the wall by all his banked fury aimed in my direction. He points a clawed fingered at me once again. “You. Come.”

  He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I scramble up off the floor and follow him to the lift, my eyebrows somewhere in my hairline.

  What just happened?

  There is something twisted in my head because Oathar’s savage display while putting his kid in line totally turned me on. Don’t get me wrong, I’m quaking in my flimsy flip-flops. The tension crackling off of him is palpable. That doesn’t stop me from giving him an appreciative once-over as we step onto the lift, paying extra special attention to his heaving chest and bulging thighs.

  Wowza. For a big scary alien dude, he’s got it going on. And unlike human guys, after working for hours, he doesn’t reek of BO. Instead, his exotic spicy scent fills the space around us, making him that much more appealing.

  The lift stops, and I follow Oathar obediently, not even asking where we’re going. He’s still got a dark scowl, and the only two workers unlucky enough to stray into his path quickly scuttle out of his way. His long legs eat up the ground, and I scramble to keep up.

  He leads me through a great open cavern with walls covered in Alogorian-style hieroglyphics and what looks to be gemstones. Torches illuminate everything in a crude glow. High above us, the stalactites make the ceiling appear as if it’s melting. They drip down, some so large, they nearly reach the floor, and act like floating pillars. I crane my neck to get it all in.

  Strangely, the stone floors are polished to a high sheen, marking a sharp contrast to the caveman vibe of the place.

  These are the ancient caves. They have to be. I would love to explore these bad boys, but Oathar is already passing through the opening on the other side of the cavern, and I have to run to catch up.

  He stops at a doorway and waves me inside. The room is small, consisting of a rough cut stone floors, and a stone slab with a wooden stool pulled up to it juts out from the far wall. At least I think the material of the stool is wood. The thing is purple, so I can’t be sure.

  A grating sound behind me alerts me to the fact Oathar has sealed us in with a stone slab door. I guess I won’t be leaving anytime soon. He crosses his arms over his chest and pins me with a stern look.

  With a squirmy feeling in my belly, I back up until I hit the stone table. Nervously, I search for something to say. “We should really get that cut on your leg cleaned up.” I can only imagine the strange ways Alogorians heal infections. Their dichotomy of barbarism mixed with advanced technology is bizarre in the extreme.

  “You tried to escape with that Monrok.”

  I shake my head, holding up a hand. “He took me. Against my will. I was as shocked as

  everyone else.”

  “Yet, you aided him in escaping?”

  “He promised to find my friends.” I slap a hand over my mouth as
if to hold my words in. And, okay, he didn’t quite promise, but there’s hope.

  “Then you will be happy to know he was able to get off-planet. I did not care to risk any of my men in detaining a Monrok.”

  I’m curious to know what he means by that. I keep my face blank, but the information Lyhnx got away does make a little ball of hope and elation swell in my chest.

  “Tell me, female, what happens if he escapes the Zapex and he finds your friends?”

  My mind hadn’t gotten that far.

  “Will he try to come for you?”

  I shrug.

  “Do you think he will take you to Earth?”

  I had hoped…

  “Did he tell you your solar system lies many Earth months away from here without hyperdrive speeds? Or that it is surrounded by Zapex guards? Guards who will only capture you again?”

  Like a balloon stuck with a pin, everything in me deflates. “No, he didn’t say all that.” Tears sting the back of my eyes as the reality of my situation hits me.

  I’m stuck here.

  Really and truly stuck.

  Even if I find Brook and Bri, we’re so far up shit creek without a paddle, there’s no way we’re not going to be drowning in it.

  “He said something about a safe place and a rebellion. And I just want to find my friends…” But I had hoped we could talk him into taking us home to Earth. I look up at Oathar, remembering Lyhnx’s warning. “He told me to tell you Lehor was in danger. That the Zapex plan on taking the entire galaxy.”

  Oathar nods but shows no other sign he believes my words.

  “Aren’t you going to do something? Warn people?”

  He nods again, striding up to me. He leans into my space until I’m bowed back over the table, all his hard-packed muscle pressed against me. My pulse skitters. His tantalizing scent teases my senses. I put a hand up to push him away, but find myself just resting my palm against his unyielding, naked chest.

  Like that moment when I pinky swore, it’s as if he’s cast a spell on me, his golden eyes so far from human, holding me entranced. He reaches down and around me. I hear the scrape of wooden legs on stone floor before I realize he’s pulled out the stool.