Page 6 of Xefe (Nozaroc Alien Warrior #1)

W e trudged through a darkened hallway. The slope of the ground told me we were headed down.

Does that mean south? I was ready to scream in frustration because I was the absolute worst at directions.

I ached to activate my GPS, and almost tapped my palm again.

I hadn’t realized how dependent I’d become on my vid-phone, and how difficult it was to navigate this alien world without it.

We passed numerous caves that dotted the walls but didn’t see any aliens. And for some reason, now that we’d left the cave, I couldn’t hear any of the terrifying screams and shouts from earlier. The force field must be muffling the sound from out here.

So far, we hadn’t been restrained. The largest alien lumbered ahead of us, and the overly chipper one brought up the rear.

Mr. Annoying, the one I had a weirdly familiar feeling about, was a chatterbox.

His name was Loxo. We knew that because he reintroduced himself with every sentence spoken, overly enunciating every word in accented English.

He lavished compliments on us, especially Querida, but she ignored him.

He reached out to touch our skin, especially Querida’s—but she stabbed at him. With her stick-knives.

Repeatedly.

What a creeper.

Loxo’s response? He threw back his head in merriment, eventually running ahead when we ignored him, to talk to his companion, the mountain with cranberry eyes, also known as Nime.

Eventually, the dirt floor gave way to smoother, cold tiles—or maybe polished stone.

At the end of the endless tunnel, ethereal light shimmered around us.

Golden vines lined the walls, and a shimmering mist trailed above us, creating a feeling of magical fairy lights.

What I’d thought was a primitive cave was really a giant facility.

I wasn’t sure but it felt like it was built inside a mountain.

I craned my neck back to see the sky, but only black and gold marbled stone could be seen. I’d never seen anything like it.

When we exited the passageway, we were perched high above a rectangular arena about the size of four football fields.

A massive floating stage took up about half the arena.

For the briefest moment, an opaque force field lining the side of the massive mountain disappeared, and we caught a glimpse of the landscape outside.

Endless black rock and sand with golden skies and fuchsia clouds slowly floated by.

“Tornado!” Querida screamed and pointed outside.

I followed her finger, and sure enough, I saw a massive glittering death spiral racing toward the opening.

Toward us. The sound of shattering glass echoed off the vast walls, and my heart jumped.

Such a familiar sound. Immediately, the shattering glass morphed into language.

I heard several beings shout, “Close the force field! Close it now!” The opaque barrier re-materialized seconds before the tornado struck.

We braced for impact. The mountain shook when the twister slammed into the force field. Dust rained down, yet our two alien escorts acted like they saw this kind of thing every day.

“Stop, earthers. You wait.” Nime grunted and slammed his staff into the ground. “Don’t move. I be very mad.” Nime also spoke English but hadn’t gotten the same upgrade as Loxo.

My heart beat out of my chest as I contemplated how I would make it through this.

Inside: aliens. Outside: tornadoes. My odds weren’t looking good.

So, I gripped the railing, determined to study my prison.

To figure this shit out. Nieve and Querida bracketed me, and the three of us looked down, way down, onto the floating stage.

There were some aliens milling around and others seated in the stands.

They looked to be the same species as Freckles and his crew.

Their skin ranged from dark green to mottled brown.

They wore elaborate capes that covered them from shoulder to toe.

The thick material had intricate swirls of color complimenting their feathered plumes.

Those who were not sitting strolled with privileged ease.

Guess it didn’t matter where you were in the universe—there were always the haves and have-nots.

These freaks have a ton of money. They reeked of it.

A familiar knot settled in my stomach. Was this a fighting ring?

Or maybe a playing field of some kind? Seating surrounded the edge of the area.

I’d spent my life performing for the petty desires of hungry viewers.

Some to escape the horrors of their own lives, but others with too much money and too little stimulation.

People who paid to see my misery. Paid to see me perform and destroy anyone who dared step in my path.

They never understood the urgency of fighting for your next meal or a roof over your head.

“Where do you think they’re taking us?” Nieve watched Nime and Loxo slam their staffs into the ground, then slide their double thumbs along the shaft. The force field disappeared, and they entered a smaller cave.

Querida shook her head and said, “They use their staffs to open the force field.”

Damn, Querida was observant. And smart. Maybe it would be wise to work together.

“We’ll have to steal one if we want to escape,” Nieve added. She looked toward me for confirmation, and her dark eyes went wide. “ Dios mío , Hera. Your skin!” Nieve pointed at the scars covering my arms. “And your eyes. The sclera is golden.”

Sclera? Was that the white part? I shrugged, knowing the Oro had changed me, and my golden scars were only physical manifestations of the alterations. They had no idea what it’d done to my brain.

A shiver of awareness ran through me. But not from me. From something other . The Oro. Always listening.

“What the hell happened to you?” Nieve whispered.

I squeezed the railing so hard, the rough metal felt fused to my palms. Not going there. So, I fell back on old habits and tapped the side of my head. My exaggerated wink hinted it was superior brain power that created that miracle.

Nieve rolled her eyes. “I’ll never learn.”

“Look,” Querida whispered. “More warriors.”

Sure enough, intermingled with the feathered aliens were massive spiked warriors. Carajo. This place was well protected.

Loxo came up behind us and growled in English, “Hello earthers. It is I, Loxo. I escorted you here. Do you remember?” His eager gaze skated over Querida. “It is your turn, beautiful ones.”

He escorted Querida and Nieve to a room behind us. I lingered, trying to get the lay of the land. Far above, hoots and howls echoed through the mountain. I squinted and saw hundreds, no thousands , of fat little furballs.

They had four appendages, all lined with sharp claws. Their tiny paws should have looked deadly, but instead, they looked like baby hands. Their thick black fur streaked in gold was a perfect mirror to the stone walls they scaled. Moving in a synchronized wave, they flowed along the rocky mountain.

I instantly loved their huge eyes and how their pug noses smashed against their faces. They were so ugly that they were cute—a combination between a monkey and a dog. A dog-key, no. A perro and a chango : a pango.

My first brief moment of joy was ruined when Nime stormed out of the room. With each step closer, the pangos’ cries increased, and Nime shouted in his growly language, “Shut up, filthy greeeooowwllls !” The word roughly translated to pig-beasts.

Pig-beasts? That was what Freckles had called me when he tortured me. He and his stupid stoner friends had laughed and laughed. The word stood out because it was clearly uttered in the warriors’ tongue, as if they didn’t have a word for it in their ear-splitting language.

My blood boiled. That stupid hijo de la chingada alien had been calling me a pig beast— a pango —this whole time?

I refocused my attention on the little guys above me because they were losing their shit. They swirled like molten lava over the walls, and I realized they had the tiniest wings attached to their roly-poly bodies. Even with their girth, they were fast.

Nime came up fast and grabbed my arm. He pulled me back just as I saw the pangos fly to the other side of the field above a squat, round-headed alien with dots splattered along his evil face.

Freckles!

Searing pain, agony as piercing as hot pokers, rushed through my body like a brushfire—an echo of everything I’d endured.

Burning bone, liquefying organs. Never, never should a human being have to endure so much torture.

Test tubes, the metallic air—dick-tongues! —it all came back with further clarity.

“Wait! No. What is that machine?” Nieve screamed from inside the room. “My hair? The hell ? You will not shave my head!”

I vaguely registered Nieve’s words, too intent on Freckles. I had vowed, had repeated on a never-ending loop, that if I ever saw Freckles again, I’d kill him. Murder him for the pain he’d put me through.

I yanked my arm out of Nime’s grasp and ran toward the balcony. Standing far below me, surrounded by people, the path became clear—as detailed as if I’d been racing at The Trials.

Jump the balcony. Land on the overhang. Dodge right, avoid the milling warriors at all costs…

Take. Freckles. Down.

“Touch my hair, and you die. You giant alien freak!” Nieve screeched and ran out of the room.

I grasped the rail, preparing to jump. Nieve smashed into me as she rushed down the pathway.

Querida raced after her. Nime growled out a protest. I looked up and saw Loxo closing in fast, his red eye swirling menacingly.

Without hesitation, I jumped. Flew over the side.

I smashed into an overhang, almost overshooting the small ledge.

We were still a good five stories above the floating stage, and I had minimal control over my body.

My equilibrium wasn’t cien por ciento yet, but I would do this.

They’d stripped me of my home. Left my sister alone or kidnapped her.

Both were equally bad. Someone would pay.

The mantra, Live to fight another day , had been forgotten. Scorch the earth and take all these aliens with me became my new goal. All the while, the Oro sang in my veins, coming alive with the pursuit, thrilled by the chase. They wanted to kill Freckles as much as I did, and they fed my fury.

I scrambled the rest of the way down and landed beside a handful of spiked warriors.

They turned toward me as one. Mierda! They were as massive as Nime, with their signature spikes lining their heads and backs.

Most of the onlookers hadn’t noticed anything so far.

I darted forward, and, by some miracle, my vision cleared.

My steps were sure and precise. My legs moved faster than ever before.

Correle, mija. My abuela’s words reverberated in my head. The same she used during every race she watched. Run.

The path lit up in my mind as I zigged and zagged through the milling patrons.

Nothing would deter me. A warrior threw his staff to the side and lunged, but I dodged before his arms could touch me.

He spun in confusion. I planted my hands on his broad shoulders and launched myself over his spiked head.

I’d never moved this fast in my entire life. It felt… glorious.

Feet from Freckles and close enough to perceive the exact moment he recognized me, I grinned.

I was seconds from gouging out his eyes.

The plan had been set in stone as I lay dying and in pain, a lifetime spent envisioning this moment.

A pact between the Oro and I. No one could suffer that kind of transformation and remain the same.

A golden phoenix rising from the ashes.

If they took my sister, my freedom, and according to Nieve… my hair, then Freckles would die.

I swung back, ready to bitch slap that rounded pile of goo, when I saw a small black bundle in his arms. A baby pango. Freckles was choking the life out of it, holding it as a tiny shield in front of him. Coward. If I took the kill shot, I’d have to go through the little beastie.

Both Freckles and the baby’s eyes widened as my hand swung down.