Page 18 of Gyft

I open up and he pops the rest of the little stick in. It’s slightly sweet, kind of watery, like a carrot stick. The mushy stuff is a little buttery and a little salty, with a foreign tang that goes well with the round veggie stick.

Or...

“Is that a finger?” I gasp.

My God. It might be. It’s round, about as big as a ring finger, with a stumpy looking end. Plus, it crunches deep in the middle. Is that bone? Cartilage?

I blanch a little, then hold it up to my hand, against my pinky, so it looks like a sixth finger sticking out.

And he starts laughing.

It’s like a deep, belly-aching laugh as he throws his head back. I can see his fangs, his throat move as he gasps in air, and I’m so enthralled with him, I forget to be insulted that he’s laughing at me.

Then he shakes his head no, takes the fake finger, bites it in half, then takes my pinky and goes to bite...

I jerk my hand, but he smiles as he holds it still, then kisses it.

“Well, it’s just that it’s kind of flesh-colored,” I grumble. “Maybe darker than my own skin tone, but we come in a variety of shades, you know.”

Still chuckling, he takes a cover off one of the dishes to show me something that resembles a sliced roast. Maybe he’s telling me that’s the meat?

I eye it warily, hoping to tell if it’s human-shaped.

But then he takes a fork—one with too many tines—and spears it through a corner of the roast, taking a small chunk out, and holds it up to my lips.

I flick my tongue out for a tentative lick. A blend of salty, exotic spices hits my tongue.

“Hope it’s chicken,” I whisper, and take a bite, chewing slowly. It’s definitely meaty, with a slightly different texture. More melt-in-your-mouth.

He looks like he’s waiting for my response, so I nod. “It’s good.”

He smiles and then indicates the soup spoon, so I give him another bite before taking one of my own. Yup, no meaty chunks in the soup. At least I know it’s alien vegetarian soup.

Chapter Nine

OLIVIA:

THE BODYGUARD DISAPPEARED in the early hours of the morning. I vaguely remember him getting up from bed, but he never came back. I thought for sure he’d return after getting a drink or something, but so far nothing.

I’m not about to go looking for him. The farm couple weird me out—staring at me like I’m a bug under a microscope—so I’ll just wait up here until he returns.

There’s faint giggling coming from outside. Heading to the window, I peer through the glass. Down below, the two kids are holding hands, poking at some flowers and sniffing. The girl says something to the boy, and he looks around as if to make sure no one is watching, then plucks a flower and quickly pops it into his mouth.

She giggles some more as he chews it. Apparently eating the blooms is a no-no.

The reflection in the glass of the window shows my mouth stretched ear to ear. I try to relax my cheeks so I’m not grinning like a loon, but I can’t help it. It’s like he’s showing off for her and she’s loving it. It’s adorable.

What would it be like to be raised with a playmate? I had Yvette, of course. But there were lots of times when Yvette had to go home.

But then something strange happens. The giggles suddenly stop and both children stand ramrod straight, facing the forest. Not talking... not even blinking.

Their hands fall apart and they stand side by side, unmoving. As I watch, they take a step and freeze, like they’re trying really hard not to move. But they can’t help it. Ever so slowly, they start to walk silently toward the trees.

It isn’t normal. I’ve only seen them twice, but both times they held hands.

Despite trying to avoid the strange caretakers of the place, I bound out of the room to find someone. I make my way to the inner hallway that leads toward the stairs, where I hear conversation—the deep drawl of my sexy bodyguard and the voices of both the farmer and his wife. I burst in through the door to find the three sitting at a table in what I assume is their kitchen.

“The little ones,” I gasp, when all three halt their conversation and instead gape at me. “They’re going somewhere and it’s like they’re in a trance. Not talking, not even holding hands. Weird for your little brats, right?”

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