Page 157 of The Alpha

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Peter stood in his new cell and jumped when two Muiraran guards shut the door in his face. Both scowled at him, turned as one, and marched in sync to a door at the end of a long hallway. One wall of said hallway was made of stone blocks, the other was lined with cells. Peter wondered if he was alone. He hadn’t heard a peep when they entered this area of his prison. Not that he minded being alone. But Peter didn’t relish being by himself for the rest of his life.

He gulped. “Hello?”

Nothing.

Peter sighed in resignation, went to the cot behind him and sat. “I’m doomed.”

“You said it, partnah.”

Peter’s head came up, his eyes wide. “Hello?”

“Howdy.”

He left the cot and went to the bars. “Who are you?”

The man chuckled. “Who are you?”

“Peter Oswald. Doctor.”

“Hmmm, doctor, eh? Thaddeus Slade. Swindlah. Among othuh things.”

Peter gulped. The man had a Cajun accent. “What sort of other things?”

“Well, let me see,” the man drawled. “Abduction, prostitution, robbery, attempted murduh…”

He gulped again and tried to peek down the long hall through the bars. The Muirarans had stuck him in a cell about midway. Their other prisoner couldn’t be but a few doors down. “That’s… quite a list.” At least he didn’t say murder. First degree that is.

“Yeah, I suppose.”

Peter gulped again. “Um, where are you from?”

“The glorious state of Louisiana originally.” He heaved a sigh. “I doubt I’ll ever see it again.”

Peter’s heart sank. “How long have you been in here?”

“Hmmm, that’s a good question. Hard to tell when ya haven’t seen the light of day in months.”

“Months?” Okay, he didn’t say years. That had to count for something.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” the man snapped.

“Oh, um, sorry,” Peter said. “I’m sort of new at being taken prisoner by aliens, locked up, and questioned by gorgeous men that turn into beasts…”

Silence.

“Uh, sir?”

“How big was the beast they tortured you with?”

Peter frowned. “Oh, maybe a little bigger than my fist.” He smiled as he thought about how cute “Tylahs the Terrible” as he began to think of him, was. “Make that the size of a kitten.”

“What?!” The man laughed. “Son, they tried to feed me to a creature the size of a covered wagon!”

Peter blanched. “You mean there really are big ones?” Wait a minute, did he say covered wagon?

“Big? Oh yeah. I hear there are some even bigger than a wagon! Try having one of them gnaw on you like you’re a soup bone.”

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