Page 23 of Alien Boss. Human Pet

The hallway stretches into a warped corridor of memories, the walls closing in as I run. My breath comes in ragged gasps, my legs aching, but I don’t stop. I can’t. Up ahead, the doors to the school cafeteria burst open, and there they are: Jeanette McGurdy and her coven of mean girls. They’re exactly how I remember them—perfectly coiffed hair, designer handbags, and smiles sharp enough to cut glass.

“Well, well, well,” Jeanette drawls, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. “Look who decided to show up. Trashy Willow, the town drunk’s daughter.”

The girls giggle, their laughter echoing with a cruelty that’s all too familiar. My stomach churns, but I force myself to stand straighter, to meet Jeanette’s icy stare.

“Go to hell, Jeanette,” I snap, my voice trembling but loud enough to make her smirk falter for a second.

“Oh, honey,” she says, stepping closer. Her perfume is overpowering, a sickly sweet cloud that makes my nose wrinkle. “We’re already in hell. And you? You’re the entertainment.”

The girls circle me like vultures, their mocking voices overlapping.

“No mommy to wipe away your tears?” one sneers.

“No wonder your dad drank himself to death,” another cackles.

“Uglyandstupid. What a combo,” Jeanette says with a pitying cluck of her tongue. “Let’s make it official, shall we?”

Before I can react, they’re shoving me forward, dragging me toward a makeshift courtroom set up in the middle of the cafeteria. A folding chair serves as the judge’s bench, and Jeanette climbs onto it, gaveling a pencil against a textbook.

“All rise for the honorable Judge McGurdy!” one of the girls announces, and they all burst into laughter.

“Willow Christian,” Jeanette begins, her voice mock-serious. “You stand accused of the crimes of ugliness and stupidity. How do you plead?”

“This is insane,” I say, my voice shaking. “You’re not real. None of this is real.”

“Guilty!” the girls shout in unison.

Jeanette slams her pencil down. “Sentenced to death.”

They’re on me before I can move, their manicured nails digging into my arms as they drag me toward the basement stairs. I try to fight, kicking and thrashing, but there are too many of them. My heart pounds in my ears as the fluorescent lights flicker above, casting the hallway in sickly shadows.

“Dad!” I scream, the word ripping from my throat as I spot him at the bottom of the stairs. He’s just standing there, puffing on his cigar, watching as they drag me toward the roaring boiler.

“Should’ve been prettier, Willow,” he mutters, tossing the cigar to the ground and joining the girls in grabbing me.

The boiler looms ahead, its flames licking the air like hungry tongues. The metal face of it twists into a grotesque, demonic grin, the heat scorching my skin even from feet away.

“Let me go!” I scream, clawing at the hands holding me. But they’re too strong—Jeanette, my father, the girls, all of them laughing as they drag me closer to the inferno.

“Time to burn, little trash girl,” Jeanette whispers in my ear, her breath hot against my neck.

I catch a glimpse of the janitor leaning against the wall, his mop in hand. But his face—oh God, his face. It’s Malkus, his grin wide and cruel as he watches me struggle.

“Enjoy the show,” he says, his voice a guttural rasp.

I don’t know what’s worse: the heat of the flames or the cold, merciless laughter of my tormentors.

CHAPTER 12

RAEKON

Igrab Winn by the lapels of his absurdly outdated jacket, my scales scraping against the fabric as I shake him. His cybernetic eye glows brighter, whirring as it adjusts to the sudden movement.

“Get her out of there,” I growl. “Now.”

Winn’s hands flutter like frightened birds, his face a mix of fear and exasperation. “I can’t! Only Willow has the power to extract herself from Malkus’s mind. My failsafes—they weren’t enacted before she dove in. I had no time!”

I tighten my grip, the fabric of his jacket protesting under the strain. “Then put me in there with her.”

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