Falling for the Alien Prince

by Hannah Davenport

  Except me.

  Unless Uncle David wouldn’t speak up.

  Asshole.

  I glanced around the fallout shelter: a dirty floor with several plastic blue chairs sitting around a square metal table. Wooden shelves filled with jugs of water and some canned goods, not many, only enough to last about a week. The shelter itself was about a 12 x 12 room.

  It came with the property. Thankfully, someone had left the hatch open, making it easy to spot. The only thing that worried me was the musty-smelling air. I wasn’t sure how they pumped it in from the outside. Hopefully, this wasn’t an oversight on their part. It was bad enough to hide, but the last thing I wanted was to die locked underground.

  After about three hours, restlessness crept in and I couldn’t take it any longer. This many people crammed into a small room, it felt like the walls were closing around me. I’d rather take my chances against the Andores.

  “I’m going to see if they’re gone.”

  Jenna clutched my arm. “Are you sure that’s wise?”

  Her worried eyes caught mine, but staying here was not an option. Three hours crammed into this tiny space, with this many people, was a long damn time. Yet I understood the extra precaution, especially when kids were involved. That’s why I didn’t say anything about the exaggerated length.

  “I can’t stay down here any longer. I’d rather take my chances up there.”

  Jenna blew out a slow breath, let go of my arm, and stepped back. “Good luck.”

  I nodded, then grabbed the metal rings. When I reached the top, I unlocked the hatch and cracked it open. I didn’t see any feet, nor felt the breeze from the solar boards, and everything was deathly quiet. After lifting the hatch all the way, I hoisted myself up and quickly climbed out, before softly shutting it again. I heard Jenna lock it into place.

  I blew out an uneasy breath. Realistically, I knew they’d moved on a long time ago, but this was the Andores, and you could never be too careful.

  The leaves crunched under my feet so I tiptoed to the edge of the trees, trying to make less noise. Stepping into the back yard and shielding my eyes from the sun, I looked toward our house; no movement. After checking both directions again and finding everything silent and empty, I headed over.

  Circling the house, everything looked the same until I spotted a shattered side window. Shielding my eyes again, I peered through the broken glass, saw the destruction.

  “Those sorry bastards,” I silently mumbled, biting the inside of my cheek angrily.

  Pictures broken, furniture tossed around—someone was looking for something. Either that or they were having a bad day and took it out on this poor house. Yet as many times as the Andores had searched this area, they’d never messed with anything.

  Until now.

  I circled back, checked the other two houses and found the same thing. They had indeed left the area though, so there was that at least. I hurried back to the fallout shelter, knocked twice on the hatch and yelled, “All clear!”

  Slowly, they climbed out one by one. Looking at my family, rage burned from the inside out. This new Earth with its new laws was not fair. They shouldn’t have to suffer that way.

  We shouldn’t have to live like this!

  Jenna stepped up beside me and I felt the anxiety and fear radiating from her. She pretended to be strong; everyone did. Everyone but me. A long time ago, I had turned my fear into rage, then vengeance. Now I had a purpose in life, a mission which fueled me onward.

  I pivoted, placing my hands on her shoulders. “They’ve left. You will be safe now.”

  She lifted narrowed eyes and scrunched her nose. “You’re leaving?”

  “Yes. I have to go.”

  “But it will be dark soon. And where? Where are you going?”

  “I just have to get some air.” I smiled, hoping it didn’t look fake. “I’ll be back soon.”

  And then I turned and walked away.

  2

  Murda

  Feeling restless, I paced the cramped office. Things were different here, always leaving me on edge. Even though the Humans had given us a place to live, their demands were insufferable. This constant act of civility grated on my last nerve.

  Humans were an odd lot; thankfully I had learned to read their body language and ignore their sly tongues. They were master deceivers, just like the Andores.

  So, with hands laced behind my back, I paced. Ten steps forward…turn…ten steps back.

  “Murda, what troubles you?” my second officer Gar asked.

  My eyes slid briefly to his keen eyes, stern jaw and military styled hair, and then quickly dismissed him. In the silence, I thought about home, the people left behind, and how we were stuck on this planet with two other species, neither of which had honor.

  At least, none that I had met.

  They used sugary words even when they wanted battle, and called it “negotiations.”

  Gar sat in a plush ivory leather chair facing my desk. The Humans certainly required their precious comforts. The color ivory turned my stomach. How could they stand so many bright colors?

  I stopped, turned and faced Gar at last. “Any word?”

  “Still nothing,” he replied, before averting his eyes.

  Of course not.

  During a long-fought battle with the DuFo, we had limped the victorious ship to the nearest survivable planet: Earth.

  Constructing a beacon, we sent a message and for over a year, we had waited for our people to arrive. Something was clearly amiss; it should not have taken this long.

  They would never abandon us…

  “I need to get some air,” I said abruptly.

  What I really meant of course, was that I needed to get away from here for a little while.

  Gar slowly rose from the chair. “Is that wise?”

  No, it wasn’t. But I needed to get out for my own sanity. Practicing civility with master deceivers left me somewhat exhausted.

  Of course, we had the same type of people as well, but only with low dwellers. Officials were held to higher standards, but not here; Earth’s entire government seemed to be filled with low dwellers.

  “I have made my decision,” I replied.

  He stepped forward. “I will come with you.”

  “Alone.” After a deep breath, I straightened my shoulders. “Give me until sunrise, and then find me in the Neutral Territory.”

  He nodded, but I could still see the worry in his eyes.

  I turned and briskly headed out of the office, stepping through the door into a world of concrete. When the stale air hit my face, my lips turned down even further. Why did Humans feel the need to cover everything in this hard…what did they call it… pavement?

  If they had found the balance, perhaps they could have saved their planet instead of destroying most of their natural resources. And by the looks of this city, they were trying to repeat the process. Large buildings, some ten floors high, sat close together. And roads used up most of the good sod, creating difficulty in growing their own food.

  Wasteful.

  I headed away from this territory that they had so graciously given us—for a price—and strode further into the Neutral Territory, as they declared it. I had never been there, never been out of our territory, except for the meetings with the alien liaison. What a joke. But tonight, I felt the need to go somewhere new.

  Of course, what I really wanted was to go home, but for now, this excursion would have to suffice.

  The air smelled entirely manufactured and sickly, with something else I could not identify. It only added to my ire over being stuck here for so long.

  As the smog-filled sky gave way to stars, my senses came alive, eyes adjusting easily to the darkness. Animal sounds heightened my instincts, and I longed for home even more.

  The trees were small spindles, but would soon grow into thriving massive monuments, providing fresh air and healthy fruits for years to come.

  Unless they find a way to destroy them too
, I thought bitterly.

  An hour or two into the woods and I stopped short. I was not alone. The moon shone down, casting a light that streaked across the pond. Seeing the silhouette of a cloaked figure standing near the water, I hesitated, and was about ready to turn around and leave, when...

  “I know you’re there,” a musical voice said.

  Human.

  I hesitated for a moment, then sighed. “I will leave you in peace.”

  She glanced over her shoulder and I got my first look. Large round dark eyes glittered in the moonlight. A thin chin with plump cheeks.

  The rumors were true.

  Her gaze tried to see past my own cloak, but I hid within the hood. She did not seem even remotely unnerved by my presence; a first among her kind.

  “Stay.” She turned and faced the water. “This is the Neutral Territory.”

  Cautiously, I walked up and stood next to her, staring at the water. Croaks sounded loud in the silence.

  “The pond frogs have made a tremendous comeback.”

  Pond frogs, I mused, wondering what they looked like.

  After another moment of silence, she continued, “You are a Tizun.” Then she turned to face me. “I’ve never seen your kind before.”

  Of course not. My kind are feared, talked about, and rumored to be monsters.

  “They say you’re evil, that you kill for the sport of it.”

  Everything she said was true. The Humans spread the lies of the Andores, and we never rebuked them. Sometimes it was best to invoke fear in a potential enemy.

  Lowering the cloak so she could see the scar, I lifted my chin, wanting her to shriek and run away. When she held still, her eyes roaming over the scar calmly, I clarified.

  “We kill for reason, but never for sport.”

  She laughed, the sound sure and confident. “Are you trying to scare me?” Then she turned back to the pond.

  Yes, I was. And it did not work. “I am only speaking the truth.”

  “Sometimes,” she briefly glanced my way, “there is a good reason.”

  Her reply surprised me, a difficult feat. “Is that why I smell blood on your hands?”

  She held them up for my inspection. “There is no blood.”

  Perhaps, but the smell of wildflowers with an undertone of blood tickled my nose, making it twitch. Did she not realize how great the Tizun sense of smell was?

  Perhaps that is another well-kept secret…

  The Human gestured to a nearby bench and surprisingly, I wanted to talk with her more. I could not explain why; this rarely happened. Idle chitchat with strangers on a foreign and somewhat hostile planet was something I would never participate in.

  And yet, I followed her to the bench.

  Sitting next to me, she crossed her arms and reclined against the hard metal. She seemed unaffected by my presence. Odd.

  “Have you ever met a Human before?” she asked without looking at me. She seemed distracted.

  “Yes.”

  That seemed to surprise her.

  “Really?”

  “I have. In my position, I must meet with officials at certain times. It is a…requirement.” One that I loathed. We only allowed the Humans to believe they were in charge; but the reality was that this was a fight between us and the Andores. The Humans were merely an inconvenience.

  “Ah, I see. Have you met any Human women?”

  I stared out over the pond, drinking in its beauty. Here, nature remained untouched by the so-called “progress” the Humans were deluded by.

  Turning my head, I faced the female, once more allowing her to see the full depth of my scar. On my world, it was worn as a badge of honor; here, it was considered a badge of terror.

  “Why are you not afraid of me?”

  She studied my face without flinching. “Why should I be?”

  “Do you not believe I would kill you?”

  “In a heartbeat.” She lifted her eyes to mine. “But not without provocation.”

  Those dark eyes held much conviction, an intriguing strength with a hint of sadness that revealed she had known pain.

  “Indeed. But that is not the opinion of the Earth officials.” The Andores had filled their heads with glossed- over lies, made them believe we were barely better than animals, and the Humans had fallen for it.

  She waved a dismissive hand. “Most of them can’t see past their own noses.”

  And for the first time in forever, I actually laughed. She startled at that, but I didn’t care—it surprised me also. It felt good to relax, if only a little, while still remaining alert.

  She intrigued me enough to want to ask how she felt about the Andores, but I dared not. Better to just enjoy this fleeting moment with a peculiar Human.

  “Do you miss your home?” she asked, voice distant.

  “Yes.”

  She turned those dark eyes back on me. “Do you have family there?”

  “Yes.”

  She scoffed. “You don’t talk much.”

  My eyes briefly slid her direction. “I find…” I inhaled deeply; not wanting to offend her, I thought about how to phrase my words. Curious… “Humans do not like the truth and often draw false conclusions.”

  “Well,” she said, turning back to the pond, “feel free to speak truthfully. I rather enjoy not having to decipher everything.”

  “We read body language more than we listen to words.”

  She tilted her head, studying me. “And what does my body language tell you?”

  Even though I already knew, I contemplated her. She portrayed what she wanted others to see, but subtle movements such as the constant tensing and release of her shoulders, betrayed that she held things locked within, shutting others out.

  “You want others to see you as happy and confident,” I answered finally. “But the anger you hold inside verges on rage. There is also an undertone of deep sadness.”

  She laughed dismissively. “I’m sure that’s how most women feel. Since the arrival of the Andores, women have been cast back to the dark ages. I mean, a protector? Really?”

  “Why are you not afraid of me?” I asked again. As many times as I had met with the Human liaison, our kind still made him uncomfortable. And yet, this female sat alone with me in the night, without even a whisper of fear.

  Her smile faded. “Because you have a good heart.”

  “You think I would not kill? Because I would, and I have. Without hesitation.”

  “I didn’t say that. I think we don’t know enough about your laws to know what is right or wrong, so you’re judged by our standards, not yours. But you do have a good heart.”

  “You cannot be certain.”

  She laughed. “You would be surprised by what I know.”

  My shoulders stiffened, distrust settling in deep as I glanced her way. Who was she? And why was I sitting here talking with this Human? Everyone else I had met was the same, liars…master deceivers. Why would she be any different?

  I heard the light buzzing of the solar board before the female, and glanced over the top of the trees. The first rays of the yellow sun streaked the sky.

  Pushing up from the bench, I raised the hood to cover my head. “Thank you for speaking with me, Human.”

  “You’re leaving?” She sounded disappointed, and I wanted to smile. Yet I could not allow myself to trust her; Humans were not to be trusted.

  Gar maneuvered the solar board through the trees. As the leaves rustled, she glanced that direction, surprised. “Oh.” She stood, pulling her own hood over her head. “I didn’t realize it was so late. I also must go home.”

  Without waiting, she turned and walked away.

  Gar glided up beside me, his eyes on the female’s retreating back. “Who was that?”

  I watched until she was out of sight. “I did not get her name.”

  His eyes flicked to mine. “Are you ready?”

  “I am.”

  3

  Millicent

  Standing near the edge of
the pond, I had just finished washing my hands when I felt his approach. Not really felt, but everyone knew when they were no longer alone. Something like a sixth sense.

  In my case of course, a seventh or eighth.

  I tensed, slid my hand around the hilt of the hidden dagger, and waited. When I glanced over my shoulder and saw his light grayish-pink aura, I let go of the dagger. He was no threat to me. At least not right now.

  Light gray meant that he was a good person. Pink, however, could easily turn to red; then he would kill.

  A good killer, I chuckled silently.

  It had taken me a long time to learn what the different colors stood for, although over the last few years, I’d quit looking so hard. Now I spared glances at the bands of the aura. If it wasn’t made of dark colors, I immediately dismissed the person as a threat.

  Once upon a time, I would’ve said there was no such thing as this…ESP? Psychic powers? I didn’t know what to call it. But now that I was older, and more experienced, I understood that I wasn’t imagining things—this was real.

  He tried to frighten me, and if I’d been someone else, it might have worked. But I didn’t scare easily and unless his aura changed, he couldn’t intimidate me. Even the jagged scar that ran the length of his face didn’t bother me. It couldn’t take away from his looks; unlike the Adonis-like Andores, this guy was average, verging on homely. Or at the very least, strange.

  Average height, around six feet tall, ash-colored skin, brimstone eyes, a sharp pointed nose and sunken cheeks… He was mysterious, and I enjoyed talking with him—more than anyone I had met in a long time.

  Shocked at how late it was, I quickly left him and his friend and headed home. Jenna would surely be up and full of questions. What would I say? We’d always told each other everything, mostly, but I’d already kept one secret from her. Not the aura thing, she knew about that.

  She’ll want to know where I’ve been all night, what I’ve been up to, I mused. That’s the problem staying with friends, they know your comings and goings and eventually start asking questions.

  I wasn’t the answering type.

  By mid-morning, I made it to the clearing. Jenna sat on the front porch with a steaming mug of coffee in both hands.