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My Alien Beast (Draci Alien 3)

Page 13

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I take a few more furtive steps forward. My ears strain listening in the dark. After several moments, I hear it again.

My voice is tremulous as I say, “Not funny, First. If you’re here, just come out. I get it. You’re the big bad hunter. I’m a wimpy human.”

But then I hear a noise.

And it doesn’t sound like anything that’s ever come from First’s mouth, or Shak’s, or Ezo’s for that matter. It doesn’t sound Dragon at all. But it does sound animal.

Oh shit. I’ve been so busy concerned only about my alien captor that I didn’t even stop to think about—

A low feline growl breaks the silence and First’s voice comes from nowhere.

“Run!” he shouts and then I’m knocked off my feet. I scramble and crabwalk backward, screeching when I finally see the scene in front of me.

First is— Oh my God, he’s—!

He’s fighting a freaking mountain lion. A mountain lion!

The huge cat lunges again and the two of them roll down a slight hill, each obviously trying to get purchase on the other.

At the bottom of the small hill, I see it sink its teeth into First’s neck and shoulder.

“First!” I scream. Why isn’t he using his fire on her?

He roars and the smallest spurt of flame lights the night. The cat yowls but doesn’t back off and it doesn’t let up on its grip at his neck.

The two of them roll over one another down a small slope. First is on top, and then the mountain lion, and then First again.

He grabs the animal by its head and rips it back from his own neck. Then he jerks it harshly and with a snap, breaks the mountain lion’s neck. It slumps dead onto First’s body.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” I run over to them and try to help pull the mountain lion off of him.

First doesn’t say anything, but together we manage to get the huge animal off his torso and onto the ground beside him. First is breathing heavily and when I look closer, I see blood pouring down his neck from where the mountain lion bit him.

“Oh my God,” I say again, but before I can do anything else, First staggers to his feet.

“What are you doing? You’re hurt!” I cry.

But First ignores me and then the stubborn bastard grabs me around the waist and his huge wings extend.

I shriek as he jumps into the sky.

His wings flap lethargically and we swoop dangerously toward the ground.

“Put us down!” I scream. “You’re hurt and you’re going to get us killed!”

He ignores me, his grip around my waist tightening as he flaps his wings more determinedly.

The blood from his neck smears all over the side of my face. He’s losing more every second and the last thing he needs to be doing right now is expending the effort to fly.

I don’t remember a lot about our first flight, I was so damn freaked out, but I’m pretty sure he wasn’t huffing and puffing with effort like this. Each time he breathes in, there’s a wet, wheezing noise.

“First! For God’s sake, put us down before we fall out of the sky!”

But I’ve never met a more stubborn man and he just keeps going until finally our cabin comes into sight just as the first rays of dawn break over the landscape.

He finally drops down, but we aren’t slowing and he flips us at the last moment so that when we crash into the ground, he takes the impact and I’m cushioned by his body.

“Jesus Christ, was that really necessary?” I struggle up into a sitting position and turn to glare at First.

But his eyes are rolled back and the blood from his neck is all down the front of his chest now. He’s completely passed out, his wings crumpled into the earth at awkward angles behind him.

Ten

GISELLE

I blink in shock and horror for a long moment.

And then comes the voice in my head: This is your chance. He’s hurt. His wings are damaged. He won’t be able to follow you this time.

I turn and start to run, the opposite of the direction I went last night. But I barely get three steps before I’m remembering the way he flipped so that when we hit the ground, he would take the impact, not me.

But I wouldn’t have ever even been in that position if it hadn’t been for him flying so recklessly in the first place. I told him he was in no shape to fly. But would he listen? No.

Because he’s a kidnapper bent on world domination.

Running right now is the only logical thing to do.

But I’m a pacifist. Does that just mean that I’m against war or does it mean that I have an obligation to help those in pain? Okay, I’m not a doctor and I never took a Hippocratic oath, but still.



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