Page 28 of Alien's Luck
“I am flattered at your concern, but rest assured, my sexual appeal is robust.”
Her lips tugged, as if she wanted to smile. He’d accept that as a victory.
It would be no hardship to spend the next few days in her company, even though he did not believe she would honor the plan. He would have to keep an eye on her.
Patience.
It was something they both needed to cultivate.
CARLA
Day three.
She had to be patient. It was a struggle. Logically, she agreed with the steps of the plan and knew they couldn’t be rushed. Emotionally, though, she was a mess. Every minute she spent parading around on Ari’s arm pretending to be his pet was a minute that Poppy slipped closer to zombiehood. How dare she stroll through the luxurious casino lounge dressed in a new silk gown, acting as if she didn’t have a care in the world?
“Smile,” Ari said, taking her glass of wine.
“Oh, fuck off.”
“It is not difficult.” He gestured to his own face, a maniacal grin spreading slowly, displaying very sharp fangs.
“Give me back my drink.”
“Only well-behaved pets get wine. Because I am not cruel, you may have water if you are thirsty.”
Ari made it very easy to pretend to be a disgruntled human, chafing under the yoke of a new owner. Carla barely had to act at all.
She breathed deep, made her eyes go wide, and gave an intense, if unhinged, smile.
Ari chuckled, poking her cheek with a finger. “Human faces are so expressive. How is your skin so pliable? It’s like plastic.”
She snapped her teeth, which earned her a fond rub on the head like she was a puppy. Yeah, zero acting on her part.
That evening, they arrived at an oil rig that had been converted into a casino. It was… something. Constructed in the middle of the ocean, there was nothing but open water as far as the eye could see. Logistics had to be a nightmare to keep it supplied. Smaller ships huddled around it, the docks stretching out haphazardly. Aesthetically, it was all harsh industrial on the outside and shiny, reflective surfaces on the inside, with an overabundance of black marble, brass, and mirrors. It was like the largest, most indulgent 1980s bathroom ever.
Carla could only assume the place required a fortune to convert into something comfortable and another fortune to keep it well-stocked with the food, booze, and service the guests expected. She could only assume that the point of the place was to spend massive amounts of money.
“What’s this place called, anyway?” she asked. Currently, they strolled through the lounge, a large space filled with comfy chairs no one used, leafy green palms strategically placed to give the illusion of privacy, and a full-service bar.
“Ocean’s Seven.”
She snorted. “No way.”
“It is a name designed for luck, pairing the bountiful with a lucky number. I do not know why you find that improbable.” He looked genuinely confused, which was something consideringhis inhuman features. Not that he was so different. Two eyes, a nose, and a mouth, all arranged with generally the same layout.
The stony complexion, gray with a purple sheen, was different, as were the five horns on the top of his head hammered home their differences. Oh, and the wings, the tail, and the ability to shift his skin to stone. So yeah, just a smidge different.
Still, the more time they spent together, the less Ari looked alien. He started looking more like himself, and she sort of liked him, the playful version, at least. If they had met any other way and if he hadn’t bought her off the street—yeah, yeah, good intentions—she’d consider him friendship material.
Not that she had a lot of friendship experience. Poppy was basically her only friend. Anywhere really, here or on Earth. She could admit to being a grown woman with exactly one friend, as sad as that was.
She had been a quiet kid, and her parents’ secrets meant she kept to herself. No birthday parties. No sleepovers. No soccer team or whatever kids with money did after school. It seemed as if everyone else at school settled into cliques and never made space for her. By the time she got to college, she lacked basic friend skills.
How did people make friends anyway? Do you just walk up to a stranger and say, “You look nice. You’re my friend now.”
That didn’t seem right, despite that being exactly what Poppy said to her, but Carla honestly couldn’t think of another option.
“Smile like you mean it, my sweet,” Ari said.
