Page 1 of Xefe (Nozaroc Alien Warrior #1)

The not-so-distant future…

L ucha! Lucha! Lucha! Fight! Fight! Fight!

The roar of the crowd thundered through me.

Thousands surrounded us, cheering and jumping to their feet in an undulating wave of anticipation.

With its jagged walls and crumbling tunnels, the dilapidated coliseum shook from the weight of the mob’s hunger.

The masses had traveled for days to witness the bloody competition.

To witness my destruction. I could feel their greed, their need for distraction from the tedium and cruelty of life.

People are the worst.

I took my time and checked out more than a hundred racers, the finest in New Angeles.

I’d spent the last year fighting my way to The Trials, to stand right here atop this crowded stage.

Clunky, old-school cameras lined the arena, whining and whirling as they zeroed in on various contestants.

They recorded our every move as we interacted with one another.

The twenty-four-hour hum had become one of the few constants of my life. Someone was always watching.

Where is she?

I tapped the fleshy part of my palm to access my vid-phone. A grainy hologram floated over my palm, displaying a smiling image of my sister, but it never transitioned to the real-life version.

Ay mierda. She wasn’t picking up. Conscious of the all-seeing cameras, I scanned the stands from the side of my eye.

Valentina was gone. Right before the most important race of our lives.

Typical. My coital-ready sister got distracted far too easily by a pretty face.

I liked a random hook-up as much as the next girl, but not now . I tapped my palm and ended the call.

The two-minute warning blared through the colosseum.

I hyper-focused on the race, resisting the urge to flex my shoulder.

The damn thing ached constantly, but I couldn’t let them see me sweat.

I controlled the narrative. The better part of my life revolved around crafting a very public and very wicked persona.

Being “nice” was not in the job description.

I didn’t love all the hate that came my way, but it kept the masses entertained and my sister and I alive, so I leaned into my bichota energy whenever it was time to race.

By the time I made it to the front of the stage, most of the other racers were smart enough to jump out of the way.

Only a few were too cocky, or stupid, to move.

I glanced at my competition and stifled a groan. My worst nightmare appeared. Two of them, actually. Racers who’d battled as long as I had: Nieve and Querida. They paced along the front of the platform.

Is it too much to ask that they be run over by a bus?

“S-sorry.” One of the overeager newbies startled when she bumped into me.

I cocked my head to the side and took her measure, mildly surprised when she met my eye. Not many of us topped six feet. By the look of her scar-free skin, she was brand spanking new with lots of potential.

Time to make a new friend.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to move.” I gestured toward the front of the platform—the best place to launch from and the closest point to the first obstacle.

“I don’t?” Her eyes bugged out of her head. “Why not?”

“Because it’s obviously your first race. We all have to look out for each other, right?” A pang of regret lanced through me. The twitchy fighter looked as innocent as my sister. But nice girls finished… dead. It was a lesson every racer would have to learn.

Time to teach my first class.

“You may want to reconsider trusting ‘Hera the Horrible.’ She’s a pathological liar.” Nieve, my nemesis, and a total perfect princess, at least in her own mind, delivered every line with a smile. “ Right , Querida?”

Querida smirked and nodded while she played with her constant companions, two lightweight throwing knives. The only time she parted with the deadly blades was during a race.

“Trust us.” Nieve petted the Newbie’s hand, feigning concern. The seasoned fighter’s snow-white tattoos were a striking contrast against the jewel-tones of her brown skin. The glittering sleeves covered her hands and most of her forearms. “If lying were a job, she’d be worth billions.”

They aren’t lying. But I shrugged their comments off with a grin. As my abuela taught me at a young age, Smile. It confuses people. I leaned toward the newbie and whispered loud enough so everyone could hear, “Ignore her. She’s old and cranky. Word on the street is she never swallows.”

“Never swallows ? What does that even mean?” the fresh-faced girl asked.

“It means she chokes. Every…single…time,” I whispered conspiratorially, making sure the cameras caught each word.

“ You —” Nieve’s furious face froze when a pack of cameras zoomed in. Her tight features relaxed into a carefree mask. “Just remember, Newbie. There’s no such thing as a free lunch. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I don’t know if I should.” The blondie shuffled back.

Good girl. “You sure?”

The racer’s gaze bopped between me and the spot on the stage that would give her optimum advantage in the race.

This kid really thinks she has a shot.

“Um, okay. Maybe I will.” She stepped forward. “Thanks so much.” One of the tinier cameras hidden on the stage zoomed in on her hesitant smile. Her innocent beauty would take her far.

But not today.

“No problem.” I stifled my sigh and stood behind the pretty blonde. Always hyper-aware of the damn cameras, I directed an exaggerated wink at the whirling lenses. In seconds, my face was splashed over every screen in the arena. The crowd exploded in laughter, and the newbie frowned in confusion.

Gotta give the people what they want.

Too bad the cheers only made me feel hollow.

I’d ponder the dramatics of that last thought after I aced this course.

In the meantime, my shoulder screamed in pain.

I’d pushed it too far in the pre-quals. I placed my hands on my hips to hide the quiver.

This is it. My last chance and the only hope Valentina and I had to make it out of this barren wasteland. Nothing ranked lower than New Angeles.

You either fought or fucked your way out, and not many were lining up to hit the sheets with my sarcastic ass.

Shaking off the negative energy, I used my remaining seconds to study today’s course.

It changed depending on the race. I would have to conquer the Net Hang, the Twisted Wall, and the Log Roll.

The deadly obstacles wrapped around the curved edges of the massive stadium.

One long mile of full-contact, balls-to-the-wall, anarchy.

The only rule: Everyone’s got to leave the ring with a pulse. A really faint one, but a pulse, nonetheless. You can take out an opponent—but not permanently.

A wicked grin split my face, and for the first time, it was genuine. I excelled at all three challenges because they allowed me to get up close and personal with my fists .

Gracias, Dios. It took seconds to plot a course, each step burned into my brain. Drop down, dash forward, run up the steps, swing off the —

Bam! The simulated pistol fired.

I grabbed the newbie by the shoulders and shoved her off the balcony. I jumped after her and landed on her back.

“ Oomph. ” She smashed, face-first, into a pile of sand.

“Sorry, corazón .” I launched off and raced toward the Net Hang.

“No, you’re not ,” she sobbed, digging dirt out of her eyes.

Not true. But the lesson had been delivered: Never trust a big butt and a smile. Or maybe, more importantly, Every woman for herself. The sooner she learned, the faster she would win.

“Told you so,” Nieve cackled as she sprinted ahead. She and Querida, the fastest in the pack, beat me to the first leg.

I’m so damn tired of seeing the back of their heads.

I protected my shoulder as I barreled down the field.

Task after task, they stayed just ahead of me.

They had the speed; I had the muscle. I made it to the base of the last obstacle.

Nieve’s lightning kick had put me in the hospital last year, almost costing me my career and any chance at a real life.

I ducked before she planted her spiked shoe in my face.

“ Pobrecita. You’re getting slow in your old age.” I blew her a kiss as a camera focused in.

“We’re the same age!” Nieve glared down at me. Big mistake. She missed the last step and tripped at the top of the rope ladder.

My shoulder burned as I climbed, determined to take advantage of her error. Despite the pain, I latched onto her ankle and yanked with all my might.

Nieve fought for purchase, but her weak grip was no match for my full-body assault. Her glossy curls danced as she plummeted to the ground. If she were lucky, she’d only break a few bones.

People were definitely the worst.

I should know. I’m the baddest bitch of them all.

I took off after my remaining competition.

Querida was a handspan away as we raced toward the finish line.

I was inches from her when she stumbled to a halt.

I flew past, my injuries forgotten. Victory was only yards away, and the pure elation of my win kept me from analyzing why my opponent had stopped.

I pumped my arms and dug deep as I ran to my destiny.

A fierce clap of thunder blasted through the stands, breaking through my haze of triumph. I looked up. Directly above me, a glowing dust cloud hovered over the arena. The cameras’ microphones amplified the cheering onlookers’ high-pitched screeches. I stumbled but kept racing.

I’d never seen a storm travel so quickly.

Rainstorms in New Angeles were common, but this wall of clouds had an eerie pulse, with neon thunderbolts shooting from every direction.

A powerful missile of light hit the main stage.

It collapsed into a heap of stone and wood, caving in on the awaiting officials.

Valentina.

I glanced at the finish line and did something I’d never done before. I ran away from victory. Toward the stands. I had a new mission now. Find my sister. The stampeding crowd might hurt her and knock her out of her wheelchair.

There. “Tina!”

She was trapped by a mob of spectators.

Before I scaled the wall, I reached out and scooped up an aluminum walking cane.

It would have to do. I took a running jump and froze mid-stride.

I was stuck. Unmoving. Useless. I couldn’t even blink as my body rose in the air.

My plan to crush The Trials disintegrated.

I was helpless. As I zoomed toward the sky, I heard my sister shout my name, “Hermosa!”

A lump lodged in my throat. She was the only one who still called me that. And I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t even see her anymore.

The arena sprawled far below me now. I spotted Nieve and Querida, along with the newbie, rising in the air. Some were positioned higher, others lower. Above us, a massive dome protruded from the sinister clouds.

I strained to keep my eyes on Valentina, but they wouldn’t move.

What if they took her? Or worse, what if she was left behind without me ?

The questions spiraled because, in a flash, I understood what was happening.

I was being taken. Stolen from the only decent person in my world. The only one I still cared about.

An invisible force flipped my body into the horizontal position, face up.

I could see the bottom of a metallic orb.

A ship? It spread out further than the perimeter of the arena.

A section of the craft slid open with a hiss.

Jagged edges lined the opening like a yawning metal mouth sucking up snack-sized humans.

Giant claws attached to robotic hands plucked racers from the sky, one by one. As I passed through the opening, a silent scream blasted through my mind. I fought. I struggled with every cell in my body. The claw descended.

Moments later, I entered the craft, and the world went black.