Lost in Starlight (Starlight Saga)

by Sherry Soule

  He’s right. I don’t want to hurt anyone or get my memories sucked out by evil hybrids, but fighting my feelings for him and no PDA in school will be hard.

  “You never explained how they actually do it,” I say. “Wipe people’s memories.”

  “Usually it is classified info, but I overheard my dad talking to one of our leaders at the last family reunion about how they had to kidnap this guy that knew about Zeta hybrids. Using this memory-wiper gizmo called Electroconvulsive Therapy that somehow interferes with the connections between the brain cells, they were able to erase all of his memories. And I guess the government even uses it on Navy Seal Special Forces’ assassins, so that they can be brain wiped after a mission, and have no memory of the target they executed. Then using hypnosis, false memories are planted into the brain, so the gap left by the real memory is glossed over...” His voice falls away and his stare fastens on something thirty feet ahead near the trees.

  I peer through the windshield just as an older guy steps between the shrubs into view. He’s sporting a windbreaker and jeans, with spiked hair, thick and dark. Pale skin and lips that curve into a sinister half-smile as his steely gaze flickers from Hayden to me. An Asian dude, about our age, dressed in khakis and a polo shirt stands beside him. Then a third person emerges.

  Crappity crap. It’s freakin’ Tama.

  Her flaxen curls bounce off slim shoulders, and today she’s wearing an indigo knit sweater with rayon slacks. Her cheeks burn red, her eyes sharp, and her over-tweezed brows point up like two little tents. Each of them has the same unusual eye color as Hayden. And who has rare heterochromia?

  Well, it doesn’t take an alien expert to figure out that they’re all Zeta hybrids. Duh.

  “Shit.” He rests his head on the steering wheel.

  “Hayden?”

  “My day can’t possibly get any worse,” he mutters.

  A fourth person steps out from behind Tama. Tense and buffed and scowling.

  I squint. “Is that Zach?”

  Hayden lifts his head and his body goes taut like he’s preparing to break out a can of kickass. “It just got worse.” He groans. “I’m going to kill Zach for this.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’ll explain later.” Hayden jams the key into the ignition and the engine rumbles to life, singing a baritone hello. “Right now, I need to get you home. I’ll drop you off and go talk to Agent Dixon and the others.”

  “Who are they?”

  “You could call them my cousins. The Asian guy is Darion, and next to him is our main liaison with the Galactic Brotherhood, Arcane. And you already know who Tama is.”

  Yeah, the bitch trying to move in on the guy who just confessed that he like likes me.

  “How old are they? Darion and Tama?” I ask.

  “Darion’s twenty and Tama just turned nineteen.”

  “Oh? You were dating an older woman?”

  “Sloane…you sound jealous.”

  “Who—me? Nah,” I say, with a little cough. “What’re you going to tell your ‘relatives’?” I ask, making air quotes with my fingers.

  “I have no idea…but you’re like my best friend and nothing’s going to change that.” He takes out his cell, his fingers flying over the mini-keyboard. “I’ll text my brother and tell him to wait here while I take you home, so I can talk to them before this gets outta hand. It’ll be fine, I promise.”

  And here I considered Tama my biggest problem. My life isn’t in my hands anymore. Now, it’s at risk. Or at least my memories are in danger of being sucked out of my brain. All because I know about alien crossbreeds. Turns out, the hybrids are controlling and don’t like mingling with humans. But some of it, I can’t seem to wrap my head around. Like...

  Creepy government agents.

  Evil mind-erasing gadgets.

  Snobbish hybrid relatives.

  And interstellar dating rules.

  I can barely process it, let alone the full-scale implications of what all of this means. Not to mention, the serious crush I have on the alien hybrid sitting next to me. Letting out a breath, I work at getting the gulp of emotion down my throat.

  “This is all my fault. I’m really sorry, Sloane,” he says fiercely. “I never should’ve let my feelings cloud my judgment.” His fist slams against the dashboard. “Dammit. My impulsiveness keeps getting me into trouble…and the fact that I can’t seem to stay away from you.”

  “It’s okay. Chill. This isn’t your fault. And I can keep a secret.”

  “I just wish you didn’t have to,” he says quietly. “Sector Thirteen hopes to one day officially integrate us with other humans. Let the truth be known of our true origins, but I’m not sure that’ll work. Hate groups might crop up everywhere.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that, but you’re probably right.”

  “On one hand it would make our lives a helluva lot easier…” He stares at his cousins and his body tenses. “But my relatives don’t typically care to socialize with humans. You could say that most of them have a superiority complex, and don’t date outsiders.”

  Can this relationship get any more complicated?

  The drive back to my house is excruciatingly long and uneasy. I should be more concerned with his ex-girlfriend, the menacing hybrids, and the government agent stalking me, but I’m unable to focus on anything other than the smooth planes of Hayden’s profile and his strong hands gripping the steering wheel.

  We don’t speak—not with words, anyway. His hand reaches for mine and our fingers entwine, but instead of being reassuring, his touch feels like I’m toppling over the edge of a cliff. He’s breaking the Galactic Brotherhood rules to be with me and I hope that doesn’t change, because I’m in deep. I trust Hayden. He’ll keep me safe and fix this interstellar dating mess.

  I didn’t want to like him so much, but the way my heart surges and my blood rushes whenever we’re together, I’m already developing deeper feelings for him than mere friendship. He’s not just a story for the newspaper anymore. He’s become one of my best friends. All the time we’ve spent together, something has been growing inside my heart, becoming more than mutual attraction and red-hot chemistry. Something much more sentimental. And despite that he’s not entirely human, part of me can’t imagine us not being together now.

  Which means, I can’t—I won’t—give him up just because his hybrid buddies don’t approve. Or the fact that we’re a completely different species.

  Now I just need to convince Hayden’s über snobby relatives that dating humans isn’t considered a felony…or give them a reason to erase him from my mind.

  FRIGHT NIGHT BABBLE

  Welcome, Snarklings!

  These romantic horror clichés will make any self-respecting fear fanatic wanna rip their hair out!

  First off, love means never having to say, “You’re butt-ugly.” So if the heroine falls for the disfigured opera junkie, it almost always gives new meaning to the expression: “strange love.”

  If your boyfriend is a DNA scientist and his botched teleportation experiment goes awry, it’s time to get a new boy-toy—stat!

  If your lover becomes the walking dead, and then begins a reign of bloody terror by eating your friend’s brains, it’s time to rethink those warm, fuzzy feelings you have for the dude.

  If the object-of-your-affection is a stalkery vamp avenging a thwarted romance that happened, like, a hundred years ago and you resemble his long lost love, please consider getting higher standards. No guy is worth having your throat ripped out and the blood drained from your body.

  Peace, love, and horror flicks,

  Zombie Queen aka Sloane

  NINETEEN

  After school, I shuffle into the Graveyard Gang’s weekly club meeting and sit down in the desk next to Viola. She’s smiling and texting away with Brendan, her long fingers flying over the little keyboard.

  “Viola and Brendan sitting in a tree—” I sing teasingly.

  “Stop it.” She rolls her eyes,
still busy texting her new boy-toy. “You’re one to talk. Heard all about you and Hayden going to that kegger on Saturday. You two are getting awfully friendly.”

  Before I can reply, Devin enters the room just as I’m stretching my arms over my head and his eyes bulge from the sockets. He puts his backpack down on an empty desk and lustily ogles the twins.

  I mentally will him to stop staring at my chest. Skeevy pig!

  Raymond and Tanisha walk in arm-in-arm and take seats in the front. It seems like everyone is being bitten by the love bug these days. Raymond’s a great guy and it’s wicked cool that Tanisha’s finally hooked up with him. Three more kids dressed in a cross between emo and Goth apparel mosey into the classroom and sit down. Everyone says hello to one another, and then we all face the chalkboard to wait for Puckett.

  Still looking at my chest, Devin says, “I want to invite everyone over to my house this weekend to watch Dance of the Dead, and afterward we can discuss the movie.”

  “That’s so last year,” a girl says from behind.

  Devin waves his hands in the air. “Hold up. If you guys are expecting some unoriginal teen horror-comedy, you’re wrong. It’s one of the better zombie films of the last decade.” He looks over in my direction, his eyes glued to my gazongers. “And Sloane, you can review the film for your column.”

  My blood starts boiling. Why can’t he stop staring at me like that? Like I’m a sex object? Maybe it’s past time that Devin and I had a little talk about our so-called friendship.

  Puckett arrives and the group talks about other zombie flicks for another thirty minutes, but I hardly join in. My mind is elsewhere—mostly on hot alien boys.

  I text Hayden under the desk.

  Me: Why weren’t U in the caf today?

  Hayden: Had a makeup test. Meet me in the parking lot.

  Finally, Puckett calls the meeting to an end. I scoot back my seat and grab my stuff ready to make a hasty exit. Maybe Hayden’s already waiting for me—

  Devin stands and blocks my escape. “So, Sloane, when are you gonna decide to go out with me?”

  Everyone falls silent.

  “Seriously, dude?” Raymond shakes his head. “You’re asking Sloane out again? How many times does that make it? Like a million?” He chuckles. “Give it up.”

  Devin ignores him. A few people laugh. Tanisha whispers something in Viola’s ear.

  It’s fine. Do. Not. Panic.

  I glance up at the fluorescent light fixture and will it to fall on his head. Sneaking a peek at my best friend, I silently plead with Viola to save me. She stands there for a moment as if uncertain, and then gives me a look that reads ‘Tell the perv off!’ before ducking out of the classroom with the others.

  All the heat in my body blasts up my neck and into my face. I don’t want to hurt his feelings or make a scene, but I am growing tired of his relentless pursuit.

  “Devin, I can’t date anyone in the club,” I improvise. “If we broke up, it would make it really awkward. Plus, you’re like my boss as the editor of the paper.”

  Ha! I’m a genius.

  I turn to leave, but Devin reaches out and squeezes my upper arm. My skin crawls at his touch. Can’t he take no for an answer?

  “Where’s the fire?” He keeps looking down at the twins. “Why are you running off?”

  Deep breath. Stay calm.

  “You’re hurting me.” I try to move, but Devin’s grasp tenses on my arm like a blood pressure band. With my free arm, I snap my fingers in front of his face. “Hel-lo! Up here, Devin.”

  He flicks a glance upward and frowns. “What?”

  “That’s better. Now let go of my arm, please.”

  He grins. At my chesticles. “Why are you fighting this? I like you, and it’s time you quit playing games with me.”

  Un. Be. Lievable.

  My mouth drops open and warmth reddens my cheeks. “What? I’m not—”

  “Is there a problem?” a deep voice demands from the doorway.

  Sweet merciful zombie brains. I’ve been rescued!

  “Devin, what are you doing? Let go of Sloane.” Hayden steps into the classroom and puts his hand on Devin’s chest, effectively pushing him away from me, but he doesn’t release my arm.

  Devin glances at Hayden with an evil smirk. “But you didn’t say the magic word.”

  I try to jerk away, but Devin’s still holding on tight. He just regards me brazenly without moving, as if I’m his property.

  Oh, puhleeze.

  Hayden glares daggers at Devin, who only lifts his head a fraction and scowls back at Hayden with a disgusted look. In the awkward silence that follows, something dark and menacing passes between the two boys as if they’re seconds away from throwing punches.

  “Please, let go of her.” Hayden’s hands curl into fists.

  The little hairs on my nape stand on end at his foreboding tone. Hayden won’t ask twice. This is going to get ugly fast.

  “Now.” Hayden folds his arms across his chest. His shoulders tense, stretching the fabric of his V-neck shirt. “Don’t make me repeat it.”

  Devin’s gaze flickers between the two of us before finally leveling on Hayden, but the dumbass still doesn’t move. I cannot believe he’s stupid enough to even consider standing up to someone like Hayden.

  I sigh dramatically, feeling suffocated by all the testosterone in the room. Any minute they’ll start a pissing contest to mark their territory. And I am not getting peed on. Just ewww.

  “Devin,” I say. “Please let go of me.”

  Hayden’s eyes narrow on Devin. A muscle spasms in his jaw. His eye color churns with hues of dark indigo and hunter green. “You heard her, back the hell off.”

  Devin stiffens at the threat in Hayden’s voice and finally releases my arm one finger at a time. “I meant no offense.” He holds up his hands in bogus surrender. “It’s cool.”

  Hayden’s gaze is cold and hard. “Time for you to go.”

  My own insecurity over my body and not wanting to make a huge deal out of Devin’s pervy leering has kept me from feeling brave enough to confront him, but witnessing how Hayden valiantly faces bullies head-on has encouraged me to finally take a stand.

  “Devin,” I say firmly. “We are just friends—nothing more. And I’m fed up with always protecting your feelings because we work on the school paper together. So, you can stop staring at my chest all the time and stop asking me out and just…stop!”

  Devin jerks back as if I’ve slapped him. His face goes red and splotchy. “Don’t stress it. I’m going.” He backs out of the room, his backpack slung over one shoulder. An odd shape pokes out of the side of his bag. The size of an aerosol can.

  He must be the jerk who’s been tagging Hayden’s locker. Might be time to do some undercover sleuthing. But probably not a good idea to tell my suspicions to Hayden just yet.

  Hayden’s stare follows Devin’s every movement, like a predator tracking prey. Devin gives us a mock salute and slips out the door.

  My body heat slowly returns to sub-nuclear levels.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  Hayden’s shoulders stiffen. “No problem.”

  “Guess I owe you, again.”

  He slowly flashes one of his rare, beautiful smiles. “Didn’t know we were keeping score.”

  “We are now.”

  I hoist my backpack over my shoulder, and we walk out into the corridor, making our way toward the student parking lot.

  “So, did you talk to your people?” I ask, halting just shy of the double-doors.

  He raises his eyebrows. “My people?”

  “Yeah, you know, your cousins and creepy Agent Dixon.”

  “Right.” Hayden turns away and sighs. “I told them we were just friends because I can’t claim you publicly. It’s too dangerous.”

  Major suckage.

  I frown. “Um…wait, did you just say claim me?”

  Hayden clears his throat. “Some adult hybrids can get permission to claim homo sapi
ens as…” he trails off, his voice mild yet laced with unease. “As a sort of human companion and they’re protected by the Brotherhood.”

  Noteworthy.

  “Did the other hybrids believe you?” I ask.

  “Yes, but Arcane looked somewhat skeptical about us only being friends. So we need to keep up the pretense for now.”

  My head hangs down. “Yeah. Got it.”

  He moves closer and lifts my chin. “Don’t pout. I had to lie to protect you from being taken by the Brotherhood. To protect us.”

  Us. Such an unpretentious word, but to me, “us” means we are in this together now. My heart does a funny flip. Hayden and me. I like the sound of that. My lips quirk into a hopeful smile that hurts my cheeks.

  I bump his shoulder with mine. “Us?” Just saying it aloud fills me with all kinds of happy.

  “Yeah. As in you and me, Peaches.” He bumps back and sighs again. “But...”

  My happiness deflates like a beach ball with a hole in it.

  “No buts, Hayden. Please.”

  “I just don’t want you to get hurt.” His tone is soft, but there is rawness to it, an edge.

  Does he mean mentally or physically?

  “I’ll only get hurt if we stop seeing each other.” My voice comes out throaty and rough. It doesn’t even sound like my own.

  He takes my hand and squeezes my fingers. “Then we’ve got to be careful.”

  “I can live with that.” I move closer, but his hand stops me.

  “As far as the world knows, we’re just friends, so we’re going to have to act the part.”

  “I know...” I swallow hard, my lunch turning into a brick in my stomach. “But I don’t have to like it.”

  “It’s for your own safety, Sloane.” Hayden rubs the back of his neck. “It’s either that, or walk away now, but I don’t want to lose you.”

  “Then don’t.” I grasp his hand. “Come with me.”

  We walk back down the hallway and sneak into the private senior lounge. Thankfully, it’s empty of students.