The Complete Alien Apocalypse Series (Parts I-IV Plus Bonus Novella): An Apocalyptic, Romantic, Science Fiction, Alien Invasion Adventure
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Plopping a mushroom in her mouth, she had to fight not to groan in pleasure as she chewed. Realizing Trazen was still watching her, expecting some kind of reaction to his words, she glanced up, flushing, and nodded.
She swallowed the mushroom, nodding again.
“How do you need me to come?” she said, clearing her throat.
He watched her, a faint thread of amusement in his eyes as she huddled over the plate of food. She saw a darker shade of seriousness in his expression, too.
“You’ll be dressed less comfortably, I’m afraid,” he said, coiling his tail behind him and sighing. Motioning towards her, he added with another small frown, “We’ll be playing a part, you and I.” He added more apologetically, “And I’ll need to sting you. More than once. Enough to make us believable.”
She nodded, chewing and then swallowing the second mushroom she’d stuck surreptitiously in her mouth.
“Okay,” she said. “I can do that.”
“You won’t like me very much during this dinner, Chloe,” he warned her, softer.
Puzzlement wafted over her, but she felt herself tense slightly, too. Remembering some of the things Agnon had done to her in quasi-public settings didn’t help.
“Do I need to know what that means?” she said.
Trazen sighed another of those purring Nirreth sighs from deep in his chest.
“Yes,” he said. “Well… not in detail. Like I said, I’ll be playing a role.”
“What role is that?” she said, her voice still wary.
“Of a slave-whoring bastard,” he said simply, tossing his napkin to his plate. He leaned back, balancing lightly on his tail as he watched her react to his words.
Chloe thought about what he probably meant, then nodded slowly.
Resignation crept over her, but she only nodded again.
“I see,” she said. “I understand.”
He gave her a sideways Nirreth smile.
“No,” he said, softer, his smile edging towards sadness. “You don’t. But I think you’re sufficiently unhappy in reality to sell your end of things. No matter how I behave.”
That time, something in his words made her flinch.
She didn’t answer him, though.
4
The Girl Fighter
Chloe sat on a bench seat of one of the city trolleys, feeling her nerves rise as she fidgeted, watching the back entrance to a large, mushroom-shaped building.
She’d never been here before.
She recognized the structure of course, having seen it in the Nirreth news and on billboards all over Green Zone Hezeret.
The Rings stadium was probably the most iconic structure in the city.
At least twenty stories tall, it shone a shimmering white-silver in color, almost a metallic blue when the sun beneath the Green Zone dome hit it just right.
The crowd had grown outside the back end of the stadium.
The giant double doors that stood there remained closed, surrounded by lawns on either side and white stone walkways, but Chloe could feel the excitement building to a kind of frenzy as the seconds ticked past.
She’d noticed more and more media and cameras clustering, too.
As the first Rings match with a female human contestant, the whole city was talking about it, not to mention betting obscene amounts of money on the outcome.
Trazen himself had to work, of course.
As lead designer of the run, he had to be there early to ensure his operators––or “pullers,” as they called them––manifested his design accurately. He also had to be there personally to guide the runner and make adjustments as needed.
He’d left the house not long after they spoke over breakfast.
Rather than deal with the other servants, or even a Rings match she couldn’t bear to watch after letting herself harbor hopes that Kiji might be able to follow that path someday, Chloe sat alone by the pool and watched Trazen’s birds.
True to Mira’s promise, the indoor pool was beautiful––a lovely, tranquil spot, surrounded by potted trees, some of which grew up through the open sunroofs into the domed sky. Crystal blue water snaked around rock formations and sculpted waterfalls while birds played and flitted among branches overhead. Fish nibbled at her bare feet stuck in the water and sunlight created dappled patterns on the stone walls and floors.
She heard the occasional shout and laughter from the media room down the corridor, but otherwise, the house was quiet.
Eventually, someone found her, and told her she needed to get dressed.
True to Trazen’s warning, the clothes weren’t… ideal.
She’d worn less, of course, including for public outings.
Living under Agnon’s roof, she’d worn nothing at all a lot of the time, even in quasi-public settings. But that didn’t make her feel much better as she fingered and stared at the water-thin, pale blue material that left gaping holes around her waist and hips as well as up the sides of her legs almost to her rear end.
It took her a few good minutes from when she first examined the dress before she actually put it on. It took her a few more to stop frowning at herself as she stared into his bathroom mirror, looking at her own pale skin, some of it still bruised from Agnon’s hands and tail.
Another group of servants showed up at the bedroom door not long after she shimmied into the dress. Chloe found herself seated in front of more mirrors while she was primped and fussed over for another hour.
By the end, she barely recognized herself in the mirror.
Even the color of her hair looked different, the blond strands highlighted with a green-gold powder that made it look even more fake and doll-like.
She’d always hated her blond hair.
She’d been picked on for it as a kid, called “lab rat” and worse.
It made her a target and fascinated the Nirreth. Her mother dyed it for her when she was young, but the dye was no good and always rubbed off in her hands.
Part of her blamed her blond hair for Agnon taking her.
Chloe had always envied Kiji’s normal, dark-colored hair.
She fought Kiji out of her mind again as she sat in the trolley outside the Rings stadium, hands clasped in her lap, twining her fingers together as she fought nerves and waited for Trazen. She’d almost managed to distract herself, watching the crowd and listening to the excited jabbering in Nargili, when the crowd outside exploded into excited yells.
Chloe turned to see reporters swarming around a tall figure who emerged from the double doors of the stadium’s exit.
It was Trazen.
She watched him make his way through that crush of Nirreth and humans.
He talked to reporters as he walked, laughing at something one of them said, his dark eyes flashing in the artificial sunlight, his tail snaking languorously out behind him. Looking away when she realized she was staring, Chloe focused out the opposite window, watching banners snap in the wind over the stadium grounds.
It made sense he would come out first.
Whatever the outcome, the girl fighter would be injured from her run, at least in small ways.
Even so, Chloe was disappointed.
She’d hoped to catch a glimpse of her.
When the trolley door opened with a loud click to her left, she jumped. She hadn’t realized how quiet it was or how soundproof the vehicle until sound erupted through the open door, mainly voices yammering in Nargili.
The sheer volume caused her to flinch back.
She met the gaze of a tired but happy-looking Trazen.
He looked freshly showered, changed, relaxed, but something about him looked borderline flushed too, like he’s just come off the run himself.
“Hello,” he said, his voice openly friendly.
Shutting the door behind him in the face of reporters who still shouted his name, he cut off the sound, leaving them in that fishbowl silence. Before she could recover from the onslaught, he sat himself next to her on the bench and wrapped a muscular arm arou
nd her, pulling her up against him.
Jumping a little in shock, Chloe looked up, even more startled when he kissed her briefly on the cheek, caressing her bare side with long fingers. The kiss came across as affection more than anything, and she broke into a surprised smile.
“Good run?” she said, quirking an eyebrow at him.
He laughed, a rumbling Nirreth laugh, from deep in his chest.
“Yes!” he said, sliding his hand up and gripping her shoulder briefly in long fingers. “A very good run!”
Looking away, he announced a location to the trolley’s navigation mechanism after uttering his access code.
The sailboat-like car began moving silently down the street.
Chloe continued to watch his face, thrown by the happiness she saw there.
She nudged his side with an elbow.
“So? Tell me. I take it the Board didn’t decide to knock her out of the running over her first trial?” she said.
“Knock her out?” Trazen’s smile widened, growing almost human-like as he looked at her again. “They pushed her into full status. She’s to be picking her permanent team in the next few weeks.”
The news made Chloe blink.
She’d never heard of anything like that before, not on an initial run.
The Board generally required three to five trial runs prior to the contestant being ranked at full status. Potential candidates weren’t usually considered full competitors until their skill sets had been assessed from those trials.
Most had hoped only for blood in this particular match.
Sex and blood… pure entertainment.
No one expected a human girl to actually win.
She wondered why the outcome made Trazen so happy.
“Does that not mean…?” She let her words trail when he looked over at her with his gold-flecked eyes. “Just,” she amended, her voice more diplomatic. “No one thinks the run was too easy? The run you designed for her, I mean?”
Trazen laughed, shaking his head.
“No, Chloe,” he said. “They do not think the run I designed was ‘too easy.’”
She smiled, not really getting the joke but watching his face in a kind of amused surprise.
“You are really happy about this,” she mused. “Why is that, I wonder?”
“She was magnificent!” he said, his voice holding an overt admiration.
He squeezed her shoulder again, grinning down at her face.
“Did you not watch the run, Chloe? She was magnificent! Like a predatory cat! I will have to be much more creative from now on… much, much more creative! They pushed me to make the run aggressive, so I thought someone might have paid to flush her out. But she blew everyone away! Simply magnificent!”
Chloe laughed in spite of herself, shaking her head.
“No. I did not watch it,” she admitted. “Was it really so extraordinary?”
“You did not watch it?” He looked down at her with a frown, although that happiness still shone in his dark eyes. “You will watch it!” he proclaimed, kissing her cheek a second time. “I insist! We will watch the whole thing together tonight. Twice. Three times, if necessary.”
Chloe laughed again, shaking her head in wonder.
“But… she beat you, right?” Chloe said, her voice teasing now. “Didn’t she beat you, O Mighty Ringmaster? I would think your masculinity would be adversely affected, that a mere human female did so well on your run?”
He laughed, looking at her in some surprise. “You are educated?”
She flushed, realizing she’d spoken in Nargili. “Marginally.”
He smiled at her. “More than marginally, from what you just said.”
She nudged him with her shoulder, embarrassed, then covered it by rolling her eyes.
“Answer the question. Did she beat you or not? Or are you trying to weasel out of telling me, Ringmaster Trazen?”
“Yes,” he said at once, smiling at her and kissing her again. “Yes, she beat me. She kicked my ass, as the human expression goes. It was quite impressive, Chloe. Quite impressive. I have not enjoyed myself on a run like that since it was me running in the Rings… and you will watch it, and provide me with intelligent commentary with your ‘marginal’ education.”
Chloe laughed again.
Something about the pure sincerity of his happiness made it utterly irresistible.
He continued talking about the run the rest of the way to the restaurant.
Once they pulled up in front of their destination, however, his demeanor shifted.
Glancing out the window up at the pale blue, glass-covered structure, his long, Nirreth-dark face grew serious, more how she remembered it from that morning. He also moved away from her on the bench, unwrapping his arm from around her shoulders and studying her face.
She watched him look at her in the dress and felt her own nerves worsen.
“We are not going in?” she said, feeling her face heat under his stare.
“Not like this,” he said.
Hesitating, he gave a Nirreth shrug, holding up a hand in apology.
“I must sting you first, Chloe.”
A light bulb flashed over her head. “Ah. Yes. Of course.”
How had she forgotten that?
Then, looking at Trazen, her nerves worsened for a different reason.
Nirreth tended to get pretty, well, sexual… if not out and out turned on… when they stung someone. Humans got turned on by the stinging process, too. The venom acted as a drug on both ends of the sting, lowering inhibitions in humans, making them want physical contact, making them affectionate, sexual, even emotional.
But Nirreth…
Nirreth often lost control entirely.
She’d managed to forget about that, in the stress of everything else.
While she didn’t mind Trazen stinging her per se––certainly not the way she dreaded it with Agnon or most of his Nirreth pals––he was still a stranger to her.
If nothing else, the idea was awkward.
Seeming to read something in her face, Trazen let his own expression smooth.
“I plan to take something, Chloe,” he said, his voice reassuring. “The venom won’t affect me. Well, not in the usual way.”
“Take something?” She gave him a puzzled look. “Take what?”
Rather than answer, he leaned back on the bench, reaching into a pocket of the dark pants he wore. After digging his hand deep enough, he produced a small metal case. Pressing a raised button on the side to pop it open, he removed a glass syringe.
“I’ll take this,” he said.
Staring at the cylinder in surprise, she looked up at him. “Will it hurt you?”
He smiled that faint smile of his, shaking his head.
“No, Chloe. But it is kind of you to ask.”
Before she could decide why some part of her wanted to tell him not to do it, he’d already placed one end of the glass cylinder against the skin of his dark forearm. She watched, frowning, as he depressed a yellow button on the end, releasing the vial’s contents.
She watched his face as he grimaced.
Then, as his expression began to smooth.
When he met her gaze next, his irises looked slightly flatter.
“It works almost at once,” he said. “Are you ready?”
She nodded, but tensed slightly too.
Uncoiling his tail, he slid closer to her on the bench, moving cautiously. Catching hold of her arms in his long fingers, he held her gingerly, as if she might break, and at a distance from his body. He continued to hold her as he pressed the end of his tail to the bare skin of her side where it showed through the pale blue dress.
Before she could wrap her mind around that, he stung her.
She let out a pained gasp, caught off guard.
Immediately, the venom flooded her skin with heat.
She was gripping his corded arms by the end of it, avoiding his gaze, feeling her mind tilt as his presence flooded into her, as her breat
h quickened…
When he stung her again.
That time, she let out a low sound, and felt him flinch.
When he withdrew his tail, releasing her arms, the lack of contact caused an immediate reaction in her, one that was almost animalistic.
She found herself sliding into his lap, winding her arms around his neck.
He seemed about to protest then didn’t, wrapping his arms around her waist before he stung her a third time. That time, his chest tightened where she pressed hers against him, but she still felt nothing but that calmness on him as his mind grew into a steady heartbeat inside hers.
She could feel him all around her now, like a living force.
By the time he’d finished that third sting, she was stroking his neck and chest, sitting deeper in his lap, sliding her hand under his clothes to reach bare skin.
She felt him reacting to the contact, but mostly, he felt calm.
Utterly peaceful.
“That drug,” she managed, watching his face. “It makes you not want me?”
Her voice seemed to come from far away.
Looking up at her, he chuckled, his voice holding a barely perceptible strain.
“I’m not dead, Chloe,” he said, avoiding her eyes as he smiled. “And you’re hardly making it easy right now. But yes, it allows me to control myself.”
She nodded, but didn’t let go of him, or stop stroking his skin.
She shifted deeper into his lap, aware of his hand stroking her thigh through the slit of the dress.
“Do you want me?” she said.
He averted his gaze a second time, but she saw his long throat move in a swallow.
“Yes,” he said. “But you don’t owe me anything, Chloe.”
“Yes, I do.”
He gave her a harder look. The gold flecks seemed to spark at her from inside those obsidian irises.
“No,” he said, his voice bordering on cold. “You don’t.”
She nodded, but continued to stroke his skin.
After a few more seconds of that, he closed his eyes, shifting his weight under her.
“We should go inside,” he said, gruff.
He didn’t attempt to move out from under her though.
She rearranged her weight on his lap, watching him wince before he turned away. He was hard. She could feel that now, too, and couldn’t stop herself from pressing against him when she felt him against her.