Well, that leaves only one option—surprise.
I suck in a deep breath, steel my nerves, and make a break for the nearest door before he can react. Please let it lead outside! Or at least to some sort of weapon. Given his towering size, I might need a missile launcher—something that will take him down with one hit, because I’m not going to get another.
I must have certainly startled the alien since he dropped his blood-covered, shiny weapon of death with a cry.
Of course, I never learn: I slam my shoulder into the door frame—all because I was looking at him and not where I’m going. Smart one, Elana, smart one. The characters that look back in movies are always the ones that die. So why do I keep doing it?
I grab hold of the door handle—there’s a door handle!—and wrench it open. I dive through, slamming it shut behind me. There’s no lock on it, but hopefully, it’ll slow him down just enough that I can find somewhere to hide.
I spin around, ready to flee again?—
And come face-to-face with shelves. Yep, shelves. Cardboard boxes and all sorts of odd-looking objects that I can only assume are food greet my vision.
“What the heck?” I mouth, staring at my new prison.
I’ve run into a cupboard. A freaking pantry of all places!
“What’s with this terrible luck?” A sob tears at my aching throat. “I swear I didn’t break a mirror, or kick a black cat, or whatever the hell the saying is!”
This is how I die, isn’t it? Butchered inside of a pantry and served up with a side of alien fries. Of course, my crazed brain wonders if I’ll taste like chicken.
The handle rattles menacingly as the alien grabs it from the other side. I scream, throwing my full weight against the door in desperation. I’ve got to keep him out—and me locked in.
“Female! You do realize where you are, correct?” The alien’s voice booms through the door, deep and growly in a way that sends an inappropriate thrill through me. It must be my adrenaline-fueled brain misfiring, mistaking the panic for excitement.
Great, on top of being hunted, I’m going insane. Just what I need.
“Oh yeah, I’m totally comfortable in here!” I reply with a hysterical laugh. Humor’s all that’s keeping me from full meltdown mode right now.
The rattling stops. I refuse to fall for that trick, instead gripping the handle so tightly that my fingers are turning white.
“Are you going to come out?” He asks. At least I think it’s a he—he looks like a man based on my very limited Earth knowledge. Sci-fi shows have not prepared me enough for this moment.
“Oh sure, like I’m just going to open the door and stroll on out! Nothing at all is going to go wrong doing that,” I mutter under my breath.
The handle jerks violently as he yanks the door partway open. I catch a glimpse of his glowering red face and solid black eyes before I throw all my weight against it, feet braced on the walls of the tiny pantry. Gravity? Who needs that when you have adrenaline-powered strength.
He swears. At least, I think it’s swearing. The words don’t exactly make sense in my head. A series of noises and beeps scatter throughout my brain faster than I can grasp them.
“Why should I come out? How do I know you aren’t going to kill and eat me?” I demand.
“I... what?!” He sounds completely bewildered, which makes me pause. Maybe he isn’t planning to snack on me after all?
Crap, did I just give him the idea?
There’s a heavy sigh from the other side. “I think my translator just malfunctioned. I am already preparing you food, as advised by the medical pod. It will be ready soon. Until then, could you please pass me a can of Zoltar slugs?”
I eye the door warily, waiting for his attempt to charge through it. When he doesn’t attack my little fortress of solitude, I crack it open enough to peek out.
He stands across the room, having put a decent amount of distance between us. Behind him, a long tail swishes through the air, much like a cat’s. Unlike my feline friends, though, the very tip is forked.
I laugh. Seriously? Dragon men, spaceships, and now… what is he, some sort of devil guy?
His fitted olive shirt clings to every rippling muscle as he crosses his arms over an equally massive chest, and I have to drag my eyes away before I start salivating. Down girl, he’s an alien! An extremely hot, muscular alien...
I shake the wholly inappropriate thoughts from my head. “Zoltar slugs?”
He quirks a dark brow at me in response. His features are sharper than a human’s. He has high cheekbones, thick lips that look soft… oh, and almost pitch black eyes. Yeah, definitely not human.
