The Alien's Future: An Alien Warrior Romance

by Ella Maven

  The Alien’s Future

  A Drixonian Warriors novella

  Ella Maven

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

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  Copyright © 2020 by Ella Maven

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means.

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  Copyedited by Edie Danford

  Cover design by Natasha Snow

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  First edition February 2020

  Dedication

  To making your own future

  Contents

  The Alien’s Future

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  The Alien’s Ransom

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  The Alien’s Future

  Jealousy looks good in blue

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  Spaceship travel when you’ve been kidnapped sucks.

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  I don’t get a pillow, there are no snacks, and worst of all—the ship crashes. Except, it doesn’t crash on Earth, or even Mars. Nope, I’m in a whole new galaxy on a foreign planet and some body-builder-looking horned aliens with lots of piercings have decided I’m their new plaything. And not in a good way.

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  Until one alien decides he’s not going to share, and maybe I have a concussion from the crash, because I’m all about the possessive way he protects me. But there’s no way he’ll fight his whole clan for me… right?

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  The Alien’s Future is a standalone prequel novella in the Drixonian Warrior series. It can be read before, during, or after any book in the series. Enjoy!

  One

  Anna

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  I hadn’t signed up for this.

  I was a librarian from a small, southern town with limited social skills and zero self-defense strategies. I wasn’t sure I could even throw a punch. I couldn’t say I’d ever really faced danger other than that time at the beach when something slimy had touched my leg. I’d been sure that I was about to die a grotesque death as a result of a thousand Portuguese man o’ war stings, never mind that they didn’t live off the coast of South Carolina. Anyway, the slimy thing had ended up being just an old, popped inner tube, but for a moment there I’d seen my life flash before my eyes.

  The last characteristic I would identify with was brave, but as I faced off against a gross creature on a spaceship speeding through some unknown galaxy with only my pink gel-tip nails as weapons, I figured, well, this might earn me a courageous badge.

  I shuddered just looking at my adversary. Pale white skin, one eye, and a red slash for a mouth. The worst part was the little hole above its eye which fluttered open and closed like a dolphin’s blow hole. The weapon he gripped in his three-fingered hand was a long metal rod with a bulbous spiky tip, and it reminded me of a medieval Morningstar, except this one was electrically charged. I’d heard the hum when he turned it on.

  The reason for my sudden bout of bravery? Trying to save the woman behind me who, frankly, was not helping the situation. She spewed profanities at Blow Hole, who looked like he really, really wanted to zap us into oblivion. Outside the small porthole to my right, distant stars and closer asteroids whizzed by. I couldn’t see Earth. Heck, I couldn’t see Pluto. We were far, far away from the Milky Way.

  What was I even doing? Even if I bested this alien thing, there were at least half a dozen more behind him with similar weapons. If I managed to miraculously fight them all successfully, what was my genius plan then? Pilot this ship back to my universe?

  “Hit me again, motherfucker. I dare you!” Potty Mouth yelled over my shoulder. I knew I shouldn’t have been judging her cursing, but I was most likely delirious. My brain had already began disassociating from terror, hence my reminiscing about the beach. We were both clad in plain gray shift dresses made of some weird slinky material, like a polyester blend which I normally disliked. Why was I thinking about fabric now?

  “O-bey,” Blow Hole said. Behind that slash of a mouth was a jagged row of crooked teeth. I assumed they were teeth. I couldn’t be sure because they were gray and pitted like the moon.

  Potty Mouth had an injured wrist because she’d woken up screaming and thrashing. She’d cracked her hand on the metal walls of the ship and then wailed louder. Time was hard to keep track of, but that had to have been a day ago. Or maybe it was hours? I didn’t know. I’d fallen asleep under my weighted blanket in my townhome after watching Friends reruns and woken up here with no memory of the journey. The only clue was a needle prick in my arm.

  There were two other women on the ship too, but they were past the point of protecting—they were no longer alive. Just remembering their still bodies had my eyes stinging with tears. I’d kept hoping they’d wake up. But as their skin dulled and their bodies stiffened, it had been apparent that whatever the aliens had given us to put us to sleep in order to snatch us from Earth and put us on this godforsaken ship was just a little too permanent for them. If kidnapping Earth women turned into a habit for Blow Hole and his buddies, they might want to work on the dosage.

  To be honest, Potty Mouth wasn’t looking too good either. Her breathing was labored, and her skin was turning a gray color. She could barely stay on her feet, and her words were beginning to slur.

  Maybe the only reason I was bothering to protect her was because I was terrified to be the only one left with these things. Which made me feel like a horrible person, but my sympathy was pretty well used up on myself at this point. I didn’t have much for anyone else.

  Potty Mouth had shuffled her way toward the cockpit, so we were in front of a panel of lights and buttons. A pilot sat off to the side, but he had no weapon and his hands were clenched on a U-shaped steering apparatus. His one eye was wide, shifting between us and the screen like he was a distracted father driving with his toddler in the car.

  Through the large front window of the ship loomed a massive planet, atmosphere swirling with greens and blues and turquoises. I might have thought it was pretty if I were… you know… back on Earth watching a NASA report and not seeing it up close and personal. I hadn’t bought tickets for this space adventure.

  Blow Hole jabbed his weapon at us. The ship lurched and the weapon missed my side by an inch. Potty Mouth gave a weak scream and collapsed. Her eyes fluttered shut, her chest heaved, and a distinct rattle burbled from her throat. Shoot, shoot, shoot. If I wasn’t mistaken, she was a goner like our other two companions.

  I turned to face Blow Hole, and his eye narrowed on me. I was alone with these things, and—I risked a glance out the front window—we were speeding toward the surface of that strange planet. Despair swamped me, just as Blow Hole came at me again, his pudgy arm held high, weapon aimed to smash into the side of my head. I crouched into a ball, arms cradling my head.

  Crash.

  Hiss.

  Alarms blared. Lights flashed. I peeked through my fingers to see said electrically charged weapon smashed into the ship’s console. Where the controls were. Blow Hole and his friends were emitting high-pitched shrieks of panic as the ship rocked. Then rolled. Then the entire space craft pitched forward, hurtling toward the surface of the looming planet at a rate that seemed… lethal.

  For a moment I stared helplessly at the ship’s glitchin
g front monitor which showed the fast-approaching planet. This was it, wasn’t it? No way in hell I was surviving this. But then…my spine straightened. No. I didn’t want to die. I wanted the chance to get back to Earth. I wanted to taste strawberries again. Be with a man. Laugh with friends. I wanted to live. And I was going to do it. Or at least give it my best college try.

  None of the Blow Hole aliens were paying attention to me, too focused on squeaking and wailing and pressing ineffectual buttons on the busted console. I leaned down and pressed two fingers to Potty Mouth’s neck. I couldn’t feel a pulse. I placed my hand on her head, said a few words in mourning, and scrambled backward.

  The ship wasn’t large—a back room where us humans had been kept, a center area, and then the cockpit. I fell on my knees twice as the ship undulated like a roller coaster. I hurtled myself into the back room and glanced around frantically for any way I could secure myself to possibly survive this crazy crash. I didn’t have much hope, but maybe there was a chance we’d plop in an ocean all calm-like. If the planet even had oceans.

  A deafening bang sounded off to my left, and the entire ship rocked, taking my feet out from under me and sending me sliding headfirst into the side of the ship. My head hit metal with a crack, and pain exploded in my skull. My vision dimmed, and I fought for consciousness. If I went under now, then this was all over. My arms flopped like wet noodles and my legs wobbled like jelly.

  What had caused that bang? Maybe the engine had blown. Did this thing have an engine? Whatever. I was pretty sure it had been an explosion, which did not spell good things for my future.

  I managed to get onto my hands and knees and lifted my throbbing head. Focus, Anna. In front of me was some sort of metal chest. I remembered now that the Blow Hole things had unlocked it to provide us with our shift dresses. It was huge, about the size of a love seat, with strong metal clasps that locked the lid place.

  I crawled toward it, sliding along the way as the ship continued to lurch. I unhitched the clasps, lifted the lid, and hauled my body up and over the edge. After landing on piles of soft material, I let the weight of the lid drop, plunging me in darkness. The locks clicked into place, and I began to twist, surrounding myself with the fabric, hoping it provided some sort of barrier for when this whole ship hit something solid. I huddled in my cocoon of fabric, my eyes squeezed shut, and dreamed of strawberries. That was the last thing I remembered before my entire body jolted, pain streaked through my limbs like wildfire, and my brain blanked out.

  When I next opened my eyes, I thought I’d gone blind. I saw nothing but inky black. My head throbbed viciously, every muscle ached, and I was pretty sure I’d broken a few fingers. Maybe a hip. Did I still have a spine?

  I blinked and tugged at the thick wrapping around me. A light pierced through the material, and I froze. Was this it? Had I died? Was I seeing the light? I inhaled and smelled… fresh air. Vegetation. The lid of the chest had cracked open, which was a good thing because I hadn’t contemplated how I was going to undo the latches from the inside.

  I banged on the lid with my fist, pain reverberating down my arm with every hit. More fresh air, and I sucked it in greedily, happy to be rid of the stink of the metal and grime from the spaceship. One more blow and the lid flung open to reveal a sky. An actual freaking blue sky with wispy light green clouds.

  I clawed at the fabric, ripping myself out of the cocoon, and scrambled out of the chest. I hit the ground—ground!—with a thump. I stared down at the soil, which looked a bit like chunky matcha powder, and sifted the dark green dirt through my fingers. Tall grass, probably about hip-height on me, grew in thick clumps, the blue-green blades swaying in the slight breeze.

  I lifted my head and muffled a squeak. Ahead of me, on the horizon above a line of blue-leafed trees was another massive planet, so close I could see glimpses of continents and water. I stared in wonder. Two planets side by side? What was this place? To the right of me, a massive orange sun beamed its rays, warming my skin through the thin fabric of my dress. The smell of this planet was different than Earth. It had a fresh soil scent, but there was an underlying sweetness to it. Like nothing I’d ever smelled before.

  The scent of hot metal and smoke wafted under my nostrils on a small gust of wind, and I glanced behind me to see the remains of the spaceship. The front end was buried in the dirt, so only the back half of the ship was visible above ground. The metal was blackened and some of the panels covering the hull had curled and melted from the heat revealing a massive hole.

  I swallowed. How the hell had I survived that crash? No way was anything alive in there. A Blow Hole hand lay a foot from the ship, severed at the wrist. I shuddered, a chill creeping down my spine.

  The bravery I’d felt on the ship fled as I took stock of my situation. I was on a strange planet. Alone. No food. No idea what awaited me in the dense thicket of trees ahead. I had visions of giant spiders and saber-toothed tigers. Beasties eager to eat me. I hung my head. I’d read too many fantasy and sci-fi books. My imagination knew no bounds in envisioning all the ways I could die a gruesome death.

  I saw no signs of intelligent life. No shelter. No E.T. eager to help me. Maybe I should scavenge around the ship for food or weapons. What would a heroine in my favorite novel do? Well, she’d probably have flowing, dark hair and wise eyes. She’d be cunning and strong. I had a curly red mop and freckles. I knew the Dewey Decimal System by heart. And I could bake a heck of a blueberry pie. I’d won first place in a South Carolina fair a few months ago.

  I took a deep breath. I’d come this far and survived a spaceship crash. I puffed out my chest. I could do this. Whatever it was.

  Deciding to scavenge what I could from the ship, I pulled some fabric from the trunk. Ripping it into strips with my teeth, I wrapped my hands to protect against the hot metal of the ship. I had no shoes, so I also wrapped some fabric around my feet as makeshift slippers. Feeling rather clever, I trudged over to the wreckage. The grass, despite its thickness, was surprisingly soft as it tickled the back of my knees.

  I entered the ship through a convenient massive hole in the side of the hull and began my search. I mourned the loss of the women who’d traveled with me. There weren’t many bodies to be found, most had burned up, but I tried to give their final resting place as much dignity as I could. The front end was mostly blocked off by metal panels that had scrunched up in the crash. I could see glimpses of the cockpit and some Blow Hole bodies. I shuddered and turned away.

  I managed to find some thin white things that looked like a type of cracker, and a thick paste that smelled slightly edible. I hoped it was some sort of protein, because crackers weren’t going to cut it. I might still have been alive, but hunting my own food was a whole challenge I had no idea how to tackle. Honestly, I’d been considering going vegan until… well, until I’d crash-landed on a strange planet.

  I was deep into the ship, rummaging through a knapsack when a low humming sounded. I whipped my head to stare at the cockpit, wondering if I’d somehow flipped a switch, but there were no signs of life. No lights. No engine.

  Where the heck was that humming coming from? It grew louder quickly, vibrating through the air and walls around me. A metal panel shrieked somewhere, probably knocked off a hinge by the aggressive sound waves.

  Icy fear slid down my spine to settle in my belly where it churned like acid. I risked a glance out the window and froze solid, too terrified to even scream. First, all I saw was green dust, then I could make out black shapes gliding over the surface of the planet. Bikes with handlebars. Motorcycle-looking things without wheels hovering over the ground and moving at breakneck speeds. At least a dozen of them. I couldn’t quite see who rode the bikes. I caught glimpses of blue masses and black horns, and that was enough for me. I ducked, hoping they didn’t have amazing vision to be able to see my face through the small window.

  My lucky chest was at least fifty yards from the ship. They’d see me for sure if I tried to hide in there. All I had was this
wreck of a ship that had been my prison once but was now my saving grace. Maybe they were coming to salvage parts or to check for survivors to eat with gnashing canines.

  “Oh lord, oh lord, oh lord,” I chanted as I whirled around, searching for somewhere to hide.

  A cabinet door hung loosely from the ship’s side. I ripped out stacks of cords and circuitry from inside, then squeezed my body into the narrow crevice. I shut the door just as the roar of the bikes stopped, and a voice called out a command in a language I didn’t know.

  Sweat dripped down my temples, matting my hair and slipping down my cheeks to drip off my chin. The metal was still hot as heck, and I felt like a lobster in a pot. Still, I sucked in a breath, squeezing my eyes shut as the first footstep clomped onto the metal floor of the ship. The footstep was loud, heavy, and I couldn’t imagine who the foot belonged to. Could they smell me? My sweat, my fear?

  More footsteps followed, along with deep voices and a low tsking sound that might have been laughter. I jerked with each thump and scrape as they searched through the ship. Footsteps approached my hideout, and I opened my eyes, wishing I’d grabbed a weapon before hiding in here. Where was that medieval Morningstar when I needed it?

  A large shadow stepped in front of my hiding spot, blocking the light filtering through the crack in the door. I held my breath as the shadow stopped. I heard a deep inhale, and then a rumbling voice.