Page 63 of Holiday with the Aliens

Strange.

Her critique of the decor cut off when she made it to the source of light. Despite her hope, nothing seemed to lead outdoors. But there was a small cylinder wedged into a crack in the wall. It was small enough that she could wrap her hand around it, and one quick tug pulled it out.

The light didn’t shut off. In fact, it looked a little bit like one of the flashlights she so dearly needed. Unlike what she was used to back home, there wasn’t a power button and the light bulged out, illuminating a bubble of space around her rather than a straightforward beam. It meant that she had more light within arm’s reach, but she couldn’t make anything out more than a few meters away.

Still, it was much better than what she’d had before.

Stella pointed her flashlight at the crevice that she’d grabbed it from, trying to see if there was a power source or anything else she could pry out. She didn’t know why the light was there and it worried her to think that someone else might have abandoned it.

But it didn’t worry her enough to put it back.

When she couldn’t find anything useful, she continued down the hallway. Now that she had light, it didn’t seem so scary. The sound of her breathing and echoing steps made her twitchy, and she wished there was some kind of comforting ambient noise. But the light made the quiet less terrifying. Only a little less terrifying, true, but every bit helped.

When the hallway forked again, she went right since it had worked so well the last time. The hallway crawled on and on, and there was no light at the end of this tunnel.

But there was a door.

Stella let out a whoop of joy and shimmied from side to side, doing her happy dance. Yes! Just what she needed. She took a steadying breath and stood there for a moment, basking in her good fortune.

Or stalling. Shereallyhoped this wasn’t a supply closet.

She pressed her ear up to the dark metal surface and tried to hear beyond it, but the door was thick and heavy and all she heard was her own heartbeat.

She reached out a hand to test the handle and it took a moment for her to figure out how it worked. This wasn’t an Earth door and it didn’t act like any of the doors on the ship either. But when she found a little latch and flipped it up, a small depressor sprung out and Stella figured all she had to do was press it down and she’d be in.

Wherever “in” was.

Air rushed up around her and she jerked her head back, but she was already moving. The punch of a body slammed into her, rocking through her as the air whooshed out of her lungs.

“Bad!” came the guttural cry of the beast on top of her. He held her carefully, cradling her head so she didn’t bang it against the wall. But when she struggled to sit up, he kept her down, not even straining as she put as much of her weight into it as she could. But he had all the leverage.

Was he one of the monsters she’d seen fighting earlier? The one who hadn’t died?

He pulled back, not quite letting her up, but giving her space to breathe. Stella wedged her light in between them as if it might serve as a weapon or a shield, something to keep her safe. What she saw stole her breath.

He was a man, but not. He might have been human once, but now his skin had turned almost as purple as an Oscavian warrior. His hair was cropped short and kept dark. Claws protruded from his index and middle fingers, and from her angle, he looked nearly seven feet tall. He was all muscle and strength and devastatingly blue eyes.

Stella could barely breathe, but the air she dragged into her lungs carried him with it. She caught a hint of the creature he’d battled in the entrance to the tunnels, and the charred remains of the crash she’d run from. But under that he was pure male, salt and sweat and something she wanted to sink her teeth into.

Huh?

Stella scuttled back and stood, placing a hand on the wall behind her and moving slowly, deliberately. She didn’t want to scare him and send him into attack mode, not when he was watching her with that terrifying intensity.

He still had a hand on her arm and his fingers were like fire, but in a strangely soothing way. She realized he had a bag strapped to one shoulder, which seemed odd. When Stella pulled all the way back, she felt cold and wanted to reach for him again, but she forced herself to stay still.

“What’s bad?” she asked. In the silence of the tunnel, her words wrapped around them, creating an intimate little world where only the two of them existed.

He sucked in a deep breath and nodded towards the door. “Bad,” he repeated.

Okay, he didn’t like something about the door. Did it lead outside? Was he trying to keep her in here so he could… have company? But he was staying still and not moving to take her. Had he stopped her to protect her?

“Why is it bad?” she asked. And if he was so certain, should they really be standing outside the door and talking about the danger?

The man opened his mouth, revealing teeth a little too sharp to be human. They weren’t quite fangs, but they could definitely tear her apart. His face scrunched up and pure frustration poured out of his throat as he looked at her, like he wished she could understand. Finally he scrunched up his face like he smelled a dirty diaper and waved a hand in front of it. “Bad.”

“It smells bad?” She couldn’t tell, but her nose had never been the greatest.

The man nodded, eyes lighting up as she caught on.

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