Page 10 of My Big Fat Fake Alien

In a flash, she's using my arm as a ladder. Her boots dig into my scales, an odd mix of pain and sensation, as she scrambles up my arm and shoulder. Before I can react, her sneakers push off the top of my head in a move that would be insulting if it weren't so impressive.

She lands on the girder above with the grace of a cat, already darting along the narrow beam. I'm momentarily frozen, both impressed and irritated by her audacity. That move... it's almost Vakutan in its precision and disregard for danger.

I leap to the next level, the entire steel framework groaning under my weight. She glances back, her masked face unreadable, then increases her pace. The night air whips her long braid as she navigates the maze of steel and concrete with the ease of someone who's done this a hundred times.

"Just hold still!" I bark, frustration creeping into my voice as I give chase. My claws scrape against steel, sending sparks into the night. She's fast, but I'm stronger - and I have centuries of combat training. This little game was about to get serious.

I can’t help but smirk as she darts across the girder, her movements fluid, almosttoohuman. She’s good, I’ll give her that. Fast, agile, and fearless. But she’s still human. And I’mVakutan. This chase is entertaining, sure, but it’s already over. I’m just letting her tire herself out.

I lunge forward, claws scraping against the steel frame as I close the gap. She’s right there, just a step away, her hoodieflapping in the wind like a flag of surrender. I reach out, ready to grab her and end this little game.

And then she jumps.

My claws close on empty air as she leaps into the void. For a split second, I freeze, watching her plummet toward the ground. My heart skips a beat—no, both of my hearts skip a beat. The audacity of it shocks me. She’s not hesitating, not second-guessing. She justjumps.

Her body stretches out, arms reaching for the anchor rope dangling from the scaffolding above. She grabs it with practiced ease, sliding down the rope like a damn acrobat. I’m momentarily impressed despite myself. Only a lunatic or a professional would attempt that.

"Not so fast," I growl, my voice echoing off the concrete and steel around us. I don’t waste time watching her descend. If she wants to play this game, fine. I’ll show her how it’s done.

I step off the girder without hesitation, letting gravity take me. The wind rushes past my scales, sharp and cold, as I plummet the hundred feet to the ground. The ground rushes up to meet me, but I’ve done this a thousand times before. I land in a crouch, my claws digging into the pavement to absorb the impact. The concrete cracks beneath me, sending a spray of gravel scattering across the street.

She’s just landed, her boots barely touching the ground when I straighten up, looming over her. Her hoodie shifts as she looks up, and I catch a glimpse of her mask—black, sleek, with a small bird emblem over one eye. It’s almost cute. Almost.

"Nice jump," I say, my tone dry as I step closer. "But you’re not getting away that easily."

She takes a step back, her body tense, ready to bolt again. But there’s nowhere left to run. I’ve got her cornered.

"Yeah, well," she says, her voice low and breathless. "You’re not as scary as you think you are, lizard boy."

I chuckle at that, a deep rumble in my chest. "Lizard boy? That’s the best you’ve got?"

She doesn’t respond. Instead, she takes another step back, her hand reaching for something on her belt. I don’t give her the chance. I close the distance between us in one long stride, my clawed hand wrapping around her wrist before she can pull whatever stunt she’s planning.

"Let’s try this again," I say, pulling her closer. "Who are you, and why were you in my office?"

Her eyes narrow behind the mask, and I swear I can see the wheels turning in her head. This one’s a fighter, no doubt about it. But she’s out of her league, and she knows it.

She doesn’t answer, and I tighten my grip just enough to make sure she feels it. "Talk," I growl. "Or this gets a lot less fun for you."

Her hand darts toward her hoodie pocket, and I see the glint of a spray paint can. Memories of neon green burning my eyes flash through my mind.

Not again!

I grab her other wrist before she can pull the trigger, my claws tightening just enough to make her wince. She lets out a sharp hiss, like a cornered cat, and twists in my grip. For a human, she’s got strength—enough to make me work for it. I pin her arms behind her back, pressing her body against mine. The heat of her struggles radiates through her clothes, and even through my scales, I can feel the rapid pulse of her heart.

"Stop squirming," I growl, my voice low and edged with irritation. "You’re not going anywhere."

She doesn’t listen, of course. Her hips buck, her legs kick, and her elbows jab uselessly into my ribs. It’s like trying to hold onto a live wire. I yank my tie free with one hand, wrapping it around her wrists in a quick, practiced motion. She lets out a frustrated snarl, but I’ve got her. At least, IthinkI’ve got her.

"Let’s see who you really are under there," I say, reaching for her mask.

Big mistake.

Her wrists twist, and somehow, she slips free of the tie. How? I don’t know. Humans shouldn’t be able to do that. The spray can comes up, and before I can react, I’m blinded again. Neon yellow this time, burning through my vision like acid.

"Damn it!" I roar, swiping at my face. The paint clings stubbornly, and I can feel it seeping into the spaces between my scales.

Her laughter echoes through the construction yard, light and mocking. "I’m not impressed with your bondage skills, Lizard Boy," she calls out, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

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