Page 74 of Alien Wants A Wife

There’s no sign of Killan and Roan. And there’s no other door through which they could have gone from here.

“Thatissuper weird,” I agree, closing the door behind me and taking the seat beside Lydia. It’s built for Ril’os, so there’s plenty of room for me to tuck my cold feet under my butt.

“If they piss off Smith, Smith will leave, and I’ll be stuck here forever.”

“They won’t piss him off.”

“They might,” she insists.

They might,but I don’t admit so out loud. Lydia’s upset enough as it is. Instead, I ask: “Why do you hate Killan so much?”

“He’s the one who hates me. Everything I do drives him crazy. I breathe too loudly. I eat too fast. I wriggle too much in bed.” Her voice rises with her temper. “It’s not my fault we have to share! If I’m such an annoying person, he could sleep on the floor.”

“He doesn’t know how to handle living with a woman. I bet he’s freaking the fuck out.”

She laughs, wheezing. “I’m freaking the fuck out.”

“He probably secretly fancies you.” I wrap an arm around Lydia’s shoulders, remembering how on our first day we’d sat in these exact seats, only it had been Lydia comforting me then. I want more than anything to repay the favor. I want more than anything to see her happy.

She’s the first woman I’ve spent any real time with since splitting with my ex and deciding to reinvent myself. She’s my friend. My first real friend in two years.

“He’s not a twelve-year-old boy,” she huffs, leaning her head against my shoulder. “Pulling my hair and spitting in my food isn’t proof helikesme. And if he does—ha!” Laughing, thistime she sounds as though she finds the idea funny—even if she doesn’t sound cheerful. “God help Killan the virgin.”

“Yeah…” My heart skips a beat.

Every single second of every single day for the last thirteen days the cameras have been on. I’ve woken up multiple times during multiple nights and seen the cameras on. Not once have I seen them without their red lights.

“What?” Lydia glances around the kitchen, brow furrowed.

“The cameras.”

“Sorry? What’d you say?”

“The cameras. They’re off.”

The color drains from Lydia’s face. “Shit!” And she charges upstairs.

I follow.

As we mount the top, she presses the release button on the front door. It slides open, letting in a gust of wind so strong we stumble back a step.

Muted dawn sunlight paints the sky a dusty orange, but I can hardly see it, thanks to the wind stinging my eyes. The airborne grit is abrading my skin, and I’ve got to hold both hands in front of my face so I can keep breathing. It’s through the cracks between my fingers that I see…

…the spaceship is gone.

Roan

“Their trajectory has remained steady,” says Killan, his voice crackling over the intercom.

“Not far now,” I answer, studying the map displayed on my datapad. It is tracking the location of our carts through thetunnel and our proximity to Sorin’s cottage. We cannot travel at full speed, however, as Sorin is also on the track, heading in our direction, toward Killan’s house.

He is coming north for our meeting. Killan and I are headed south, tracking John Smith and Chloe.

I minimize the map, switching to another display. This one shows a 3D graph on which our ground sensors are plotting the route of John Smith’s spaceship in real time. He has not yet left the atmosphere, traveling close to the planet’s surface.

We do not know if Sorin’s house is the final destination or if it is a coincidence that he is heading that way as he readies his ship for space travel. Killan and I are going to look foolish if he is merely visiting Sorin and Briar, but we cannot take any chances that he will attempt to leave Ril II, abandoning the Females.

Not that there is anything we can do to stop the Drah’os Male if heisabout to leave Ril II. We have no ship of our own in which to follow him and no ground defenses with which to threaten him.