I’m about to say something about Stockholm Syndrome when I feel a strange heat at my back. For a brief moment, I wonder if I’m on fire and I whirl around.
To come face to face with a wall of iridescent red scales. Not just a wall. This is a chest, a heavy muscular chest which goes up and up as I lift my head until I’m looking into a pair of burning eyes, the pupils slit like a crocodile’s.
Eyes I’ve seen before…in my nightmares.
“My spark.” The words reverberate through me as they almost drop straight into my brain, dripping with coal and rust. “You are awake.”
GILLIAN
This is not the alien I was expecting.
Huge, yes. One hundred percent not human, yes. Terrifying fangs, yes. Cheekbones you could cut yourself on…full lips set in a handsome face scattered with scales…long, dark hair with the occasional grey streak flowing like satin over his shoulders…no. Not expected. Not at all.
He, because this is most definitely a male, is vast. Minimum seven feet, but more likely seven and a half feet tall. He’s broad too. That I can tell by how much chest is on display. He clearly isn’t one for clothing on his upper body, given the acres of abs.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch something moving…and this is what causes me to take a step back.
He has a tail.
A long crocodile tail, spines running the full length, spines which seem to run, as far as I can tell, up onto his back as well. He is, perhaps fortunately, wearing a pair of leather pants and a set of stout boots.
But he has a tail.
I think I might make a squeaking sound before I turn to the two women behind me and finally, finally, my voice returns.
“Run!” I hear myself scream.
My legs begin to respond to my brain and pounding heart.
“Run!” I’m scrambling to get away, to get to them, to make themmove.
“Don’t worry,” the slimmer one says. “It’s only Dalox.”
I’m just about to reach them when I’m yanked backwards, the blanket going tight and then slack as I tumble over…but I don’t hit the ground.
Insteadhecatches me. For a moment I flail my arms until I realize the blanket is no longer attached…anywhere.
“Here you go, little spark,” the huge alien…Dalox…says, handing me my blanket as I’m cradled in his arm. “I believe humans like to wear clothing.”
I half expect him to be looking at the other women, but he is not. He is staring intently at me.
At very naked me.
I snatch the fabric from him and cover myself as best I can.
“What do you know about humans? Been abducting them a long time, have you?” I growl at him.
Dalox bares his fangs. Briefly, it’s like looking a T-Rex in the mouth.
“Little female, I do not have to abduct any females,” he says, his voice a mix of syrup and gravel. “I am Sarkarnii.”
“It’s true,” one of the women says. “We were abducted, but not by the Sarkarnii. They gave us a home and protection.”
I glare at Dalox, not daring to take my eyes from him.
“You could be being made to say that.”
“Fuck’s sake. I’m pregnant by a Sarkarnii,” the pregnant one says. “He’s my partner…my mate.” She sounds English. In fact she sounds like she comes from London.
