Page 48 of Scorching the Alien Empire
“I would’ve thought you’d love Halloween. You know, playing dress-up and...” Sandra trails off, her finger tracing a long banner emblazoned with fiery red runes crackling over streaks of purple lightning. “...acting all psycho.” She laughs nervously, her freckled face reddening.
“What do you mean, ‘acting all psycho’?” I challenge, narrowing my eyes at her. “Psycho, like when I saved everyone’s lives by stopping that bomb thing?”
I swear! I save people from certain death, and they still find a way to spin it against me.
“No, psycho like—” She quotes in a stupid voice that’s supposed to mimic the accent I don’t have. “’Kill him! Burn him alive!’” She grins. “Oh, and let’s not forget, ‘Burn him to ash with Arawnoth’s love!’”
“Please,” I sigh loudly as I flick my wrist to dismiss her concern. “Drex-iottotallydeserved to be fried to a crisp. I mean, he tried to blow us all up, for Gods’ sake! But of course, Dracoth had to do his whole meathead, bone-through-the-nose routine.” I roll my eyes at the absurdity of it all.
Dracoth’s going soft on me, and it’s my job as his Mortakin-Kis to keep him nice and hard.
“Drex-iot,” Sandra echoes, snorting loudly, pulling me back to the present. I clamp my hand over my chest, realizing I’ve been absentmindedly tracing Arawnoth’s blessing again.
“I’m just worried,” Sandra says, her tone softening, her wide eyes full of concern. “All this god stuff and, you know, boobie magic—”
“Again with the boobie magic?Really, Sandra?” I interrupt, giving her a sharp frown. A surge of anger bubbles up, threatening to steal the levity from my voice.
What Dracoth and I have... we’re more than mortals. Almost gods. If we dropped the bullshit pretenses and fully embraced what we are, no one—not even Sandra—could deny it.
I exhale sharply, grounding myself in the crisp air of the ship. Stepping closer to my friend, I place a hand on her arm. “Listen, I appreciate the thought, Sandra. But I haven’t changed. I’m still the same fabulous Lexie,” I say, my voice calm, my face sincere.
Deep down, I’ve always been like this, but Dracoth ignited that part of me—the real Lexie I kept hidden and ashamed.
“Besides, I’ve got you and Todd here to keep an eye on me,” I add with a laugh.
“We’re trying,” Sandra replies, a smile creasing her face. “Though, if Todd keeps eating so much, his big eye might pop right out of his wee head.” She chuckles, reaching out to stroke his head segment. Todd’s mandibles part as he leans into her scratches. Little traitor bug.
“No!” I gasp, side-eyeing the little plumper on my shoulder. “Are you saying my little superstar is getting fat?”
“The proof is in the haggis.” Sandra titters, her hand slipping inside the folds of her dark red fur-lined jacket. She pulls out a bendy, rectangular abomination pretending to be food—a jelly stick. “You know, Klendathians call this a ‘jellied ration’ and eat it once a day. But Todd eats at least two.”
“You don’t say...” I mutter absently.
Since Ignixis issued us our wrist consoles, Sandra’s been obsessed with learning about the Klendathians and every other alien species that ever was. Meanwhile, I’ve been busy struggling to learn the runes and the sacred words of Arawnoth.
Ignixis nearly threw me out of the lab yesterday when I couldn’t sit still long enough for him to perform Mura-Tok. Therude prick even suggested humans might lack the brain capacity for it.
I never was much of a student.
“Here, Toddy-Woddy,” Sandra coos, holding the jelly stick temptingly close to my pet cyloillar.
I barely have time to grunt before Todd launches off my shoulder with surprising speed and weight, his array of little spindly legs a blur of motion.
“Look at him go!” I exclaim, watching as his plump little body wobbles midair. He lands like a deranged, drug-fueled flying squirrel, making Sandra scream as he clings to her outstretched arm.
“Gross!” Sandra groans as Todd dangles from her wrist like an overgrown, hungry koala. His mandibles make quick work of the jelly stick, shoveling chunks of it into his hidden mouth hole.
“And he weighs a ton now,” she adds, her face a mix of amusement and disgust that could only be driven by jealousy.
“Yeah...” I mutter in agreement, rubbing the ache from my shoulder I didn’t know Todd’s chunkiness had caused. “Right, that’s it. You’re going on a diet, mister. Starting now!”
I reach for him, but Todd clings to Sandra’s arm with all the stubbornness of a creature who has tasted nirvana.
“Okay, starting tomorrow,” I concede, lifting him and his precious jelly stick off her arm. His giant, gleaming eye stays fixated on his treat.
“So, do you know what this means?” Sandra asks, her tone bright with excitement as she turns toward the intricate banner behind her.
I squint at the long banner, Todd’s familiar weight settling on my shoulder as his mandibles noisily devour the last of his prize.
