Anger flashes to life inside me. Something comes over me and, in a flash, I’m twisting my arm from the guard’s grasp. The urge to fight is a sudden and all-consuming impulse that I can’t control. But the bonds around my wrists stop me. One wrong move and I’ll be zapped and brought to my knees again.
Oh, wow, I really want to kick some ass. Where did this feeling come from? I hate confrontation. Angry people make me uncomfortable.
But right now, anger feeds me, makes me feel invincible and strong.
The guard slices me a deadly scowl and pulls harder on my arm. Indignation and pride flow through me, and man, I am pumped up. They can’t touch me. They don’t know what I’m capable of. I’ll kill the one on the left with the tip of my pinky finger and the one on the right with the heel of my left foot.
Go ahead, overestimate my willingness to follow orders.
There isn’t a lick of forethought in my head as I suddenly spin and duck and pull myself free from the guard’s grasp. How I manage to do so without shocking myself again is a mystery.
Both men come for me, one pointing his spear, the other pinching his lips together as if gearing up to unleash some alien whoop ass.
“Bring it, boys,” I hiss. Crouching, I set my arms in a fighting pose and then realize what I’m doing. I don’t know what to do after the fighting pose. Why am I encouraging them to rush me?
They don’t. A beam of light flies from the tip of the guard’s spear and enters the wound where the female stabbed me. The force of it makes me rock back on my heels, my entire body vibrating as electricity courses through me. I fall straight back. My brain knows what’s happening, that I’m going to hit my head on the hard, unforgiving ground. But it doesn’t seem real and there’s no way to prepare so I flinch in anticipation of pain.
But I fall softly against something that cradles my upper body and lowers me carefully to the floor. Holding my hands in front of my chest, I open my eyes and see the white alien’s eyelids blink, the fan of his thick lashes making me ridiculously envious. He looks pointedly at the guards.
“You are careless! Go, I will deliver this creature to the King.”
The harsh, fierce tone of his voice makes me tremble a little.
“She tried to kill you.”
“Go. Leave us!”
The guards bow their heads and with a last glance, leave.
“For the record, I never tried to kill you. And thanks for catching me, Gamalt.”
His lips twitch. “It is Ga-ma-ult.”
“Gama-a-hult.”
He shakes his head and repeats his name. It sounds like he’s swallowing half his name while also making a guttural sound. My tongue isn’t capable. It gets tangled in my mouth and the resulting sound is akin to a cat hacking up a hairball.
“How about Gam? I’ll just call you that.”
He shakes his head again, distaste contorting his features. “No.”
“Gam,” I whisper. Realizing I can’t push myself up without being fried by my electric handcuffs, I thrust my wrists at him.
“Either take them off or help me up.”
He grips my upper arm and helps me to my feet. He towers over me, his chest wide enough to block two of me, and yet he won’t take off the cuffs? Does he think that I can actually hurt him?
“Walk agreeably or you will force my hand, which I do not want.”
Every bruise and pain in my body flares to life as I follow him down a hall and out a metal door, but this discomfort is short lived. Odd, considering a paper cut forced me to use a sick day once. Brilliant sunlight assaults my eyes. I want to rub them but stop myself thanks to the stupid cuffs. A warm, humid breeze caresses my face and tugs at my hair. There’s a peaceful vibe in the air and I take a deep, slow breath. My lungs happily expand as if I’m nourishing them after a long famine.
My eyes adjust to the light, and I get a good view of my surroundings. I once again reminded of a lush tropical island. A community is cut from the sick confines of massive palm trees. An enviable forest surrounds long, thatched roofed houses. The buildings are both modern and rustic, with stucco-like exteriors framed with wood, and roofs made from a mixture of metal and thick fibers. I’d like to take a closer look, but I must hurry to keep up with Gam. Reaching his side, I suck in a quick breath.
A literal palace rises above the trees with a golden exterior that gleams in the sunlight. Intricate patterns decorate the walls. Beads of sunlight catch in the circular motifs and appear to roll around in the designs. We approach on a paved walkway. I’m so busy gawking that I don’t realize we’re at the massive, turquoise blue doors.
“Welcome to my home.”
“You live here?”
