Page 21

We drive in silence for a while. When I glance over, sure enough, there’s a very handsome and very naked Draalian on my right. And, just as I suspected he’s gloating playfully.

“Don’t be so impressed with yourself,” I scold. “Just because I can’t camouflage myself doesn’t mean I don’t have skills, too.”

“I’m very aware of your skillset,” his voice has that deep husk he only uses when he’s talking about sex.

“Are you sure you’d never been with a woman before? You’re pretty damn sure of yourself. Cocksure,” I say as I giggle.

“Are you trying to hurt my feelings? Because actually you’re giving my ego a boost.” He grabs my hand and smiles at me.

“Which way?” I ask when the facility is no longer on any of my screens.

“Northwest.”

“I’m tired, Zoriss. Mind if I find a place to stop once we’re an hour or so from here?”

“I wouldn’t mind finding a bed.” He pauses for effect. “Sleep would be nice too.”

“Sleep first, then the other? I really need to rest.” I press my hand to my forehead as if that would make me feel better.

“Teach me to drive this. I’ve driven anti-grav vehicles in the army. I just can’t read your language.”

Fifteen minutes later, he competently hovers away. I watch him drive for a few minutes and as soon as I’m sure he’s got the hang of it, I allow myself to drift off, hoping my headache will be gone when I awaken.

“Lumina!”

Zoris’s voice pulls me from a deep sleep. I wake, frantic. Are we in trouble?

“Is that a sleeping facility?” he asks. The hover is going as slow as it possibly can while still staying in the air.

“Well, perhaps we should define sleeping facility.”

The motel I see is a relic from the last century. We’re out in the hinterlands. I didn’t expect to find a fabulous hotel, but this barely qualifies as a motel. It definitely doesn’t qualify as fabulous.

“Yeah. Pull over.”

It’s an antique that screams ‘shabby’ and couldn’t have been anyone’s idea of a dream getaway even in its heyday. On the other hand, anything softer than stone and warmer than frigid would be a step up from our cave.

“I’ll do the talking,” I say as we enter the small shacklike office.

The faint odor of mold assaults us as soon as we cross the threshold. The small reception area has two grungy orange chairs and poor illumination, possibly designed to keep patrons from noticing how seedy the place is.

Behind a wall, the top half of which is glass, is a blowsy woman whose dark black hair has two-inch white roots. Her face is pinched, and you’d have to be blind not to see her blatant disapproval of my traveling companion.

“We don’t—”

I slam my palm down hard on the ancient counter that separates her from us.

“Before you insult an honored Draalian guest by refusing him service, let me introduce myself,” I say in my haughtiest voice.

“I am Lumina Malone, one of the board members of what used to be called Project Ark and is now part of the Repopulation Initiative. Our government has gone to great trouble and expense to get quality males like this to come to Earth. I would hate for you to be cited for hate speech or non-cooperation with this Newcomer. What were you about to say?” I lift my eyebrow, waiting.

“We have just one room and it’s a king.” She spears me with an angry look as if to say, “he can stay but you’ll have to bunk together. I hope this mortifies you.”

“It’s our lucky day, honey,” I toss over my shoulder, then fill out the form on her prehistoric computer pad. When I hand it back to her, she’s not looking at me, she’s looking over my shoulder at Zoriss. Her eyes are wide in . . . what, fright? disgust?

When I turn around, I see my Draalian captain standing tall in his black jeans and t-shirt.

His facile blue tongue is sticking between his lips, its two halves twining and untwining over and over as he stares at her.

It’s a beautiful, impressive sight to a woman who’s about to reap the benefits of its ability to perform gymnastics.

It is probably disturbing as hell to someone who doesn’t think aliens should be on this planet in the first place.

As I place my finger on the digital pad that will take my fingerprint to allow me into the room, I hear the word “wog,” spoken in barely a whisper. Her expression challenges me to say something, although I know she’ll just deny it. I curb my impulse.

Wog. How is it that idiots like her have the brains to come up with a myriad of creative, hateful names to call their supposed enemies? Wog for pollywog. Bitch.

“Want him printed?” she asks as if he was incapable of speech.

Do I? Do I want him close enough to her to hear the poison she’s going to spew, albeit in a furious whisper?

You bet your ass I do. He’s a captain in the Draalian army. Then I realize he was probably printed at the facility and the authorities would be here in minutes.

My feisty guy is no wimp, though. He makes a preemptive strike by innocently asking, “Do you by any chance have any crickets, Ma’am? I’ve discovered they’re delicious.”

We watch as the harridan’s face crumples, nose wrinkling, throat convulsing as if she’s about to vomit. Zoriss sees his enemy’s weakness and strikes again, “No crickets? How about cockroaches? They’ll do in a pinch.”

“Room 117,” she tosses over her shoulder as she lurches toward a back room.

“Well played, Captain, well played.”

Luckily, our room is cleaner than the motel lobby. After checking for bedbugs, I pull off my clothes and fall into bed. My temples are throbbing, but not so badly that I don’t enjoy the striptease Zoriss entertains me with.

After we fled the barracks, he put back on several layers. Once we got to our room, he started tearing off his clothes to join me. After he noticed my interest, though, he slowed down and camped it up. I’m now enjoying the removal of his third and final layer as he waggles his cute blue tush at me.

“When I wake up and my head isn’t pounding, you’re going to remind me what you taste like, Captain.”

“Threat?”

“Promise.”

He climbs in and places my head on his shoulder, then gazes at me, a soft look of appreciation on his face.

“It’s . . .” He trails off as he cocks his head and stares at me.

“What?”

“Do you know how many miracles had to happen for us to be together like this?”

“How many?”

“Well, I’m not sure I want to call my abduction a miracle, but after that I had to escape a fiery crash, you had to rescue me, and you had to stop my artery from bleeding out.”

“You had to carry me to safety after I tumbled down a steep ravine and broke myself,” I chime in.

“And you had to meet a nice female named Taylor who got you into the facility. And now we’re here with that wonderful human at the front desk. She is just what I pictured all Earth females to be.”

“Luckily, she’s in the minority,” I tell him.

His eyes inspect the ceiling. “Think she’s got cameras? Think she’s watching?”

I snuggle closer and tell him. “When I wake up and my head quits hurting, let’s give her a show.”