Page 12 of Gravel and Grit

The sound that came from her mouth was not a noise he’d ever heard a human make. Not that he had much experience with them, but he honestly hadn’t known they were capable of such a… warble. As best as he could discern, it sounded like a half-swallowed scream, mixed with a very high-

pitched squeal, and a few vowels thrown in as if she’d attempted to say words.

Seeing as he’d learned almost every language humans spoke during his many, many years trapped on this planet, he should have recognized what she said, but he didn’t, which led him to believe they weren’t actual words but rather a reaction to seeing an alien.

Better than screaming.

We should have shot her.

NO! That would have hurt her.

When she didn’t make any further noises, or move for that matter, Zaek decided he must have stunned her to insensibility. Dropping his still-aimed gun to his side, unable to bring himself to use it, he holstered it and peeled his gaze off of her with an effort, looking over her head into the room. He immediately found his beacon set on a table, half disassembled and hooked up to at least two dozen wires.

Zaek turned narrowed eyes on the motionless female. Adorable and sexier than anyone he’d ever encountered or not, he was thoroughly peeved to discover she’d tried to destroy his beacon. She blinked up at him rapidly and sucked in a sharp breath, her first since she’d opened the door to find a six-foot-nine, horned, winged, tailed, dark grey alien with an ugly mug, even by Khargal standards, standing on the other side.

Worried she’d start the screaming he hated so much if he gave her the opportunity by just standing there like a dunce, he hurriedly slid past her, keeping his tightly folded wings against the door frame, then the wall, so there was as much distance between them as possible.

Unfortunately, him moving seemed to be what she needed to snap out of her comatose state.

“I have until morning! Y-you aren’t supposed to be here,” she stammered, her voice shaking and breathy, as if she were close to passing out.

Zaek didn’t have any idea what she was talking about with ‘having until morning’, but thought the fact that he wasn’t supposed to be there was pretty obvious so didn’t bother to respond. He was still holding onto the hope that he could snatch up his beacon and get out of there before he was found by the men in black or the pretty female started screeching.

She must have noticed where he was headed, because he heard her make a little cry of what sounded like dismay before her footsteps rushed up behind him.

His first thought was that she was going to attempt to tackle him, something he found himself not completely opposed to, even if he also thought she should know how ineffective that would be.

In an instinctive effort to assist her, Zaek halted and relaxed his wings, so she’d have a softer surface to crash into, while readying himself to spin around and catch her if she reverberated off and fell to the hard floor. Why his first impulse was to protect her, he didn’t know.

Further proof that I have become completely unhinged.

The impact never came. Instead, she used his hesitation to dart around him and block his path to the beacon, leaning her body back over it and spreading her arms wide. Her running past wafted a stronger gust of that scent over him, making the tingle in his mouth grow more intense.

Refusing to acknowledge the ailment affecting him for the moment, he glared at the human, both irritated she was trying to block him from retrieving his beacon and a little secretly miffed she hadn’t tackled him.

“Move. That is mine,” he demanded lowly.

“N-no. This is the pr-property of the United States government!” she countered.

Zaek raised the skin over his brow, giving her his favorite human expression, one that conveyed just how absurd he found that statement.

Her eyes widened even farther before a bit of confusion bled across her features. Whether that meant he’d performed the expression correctly and she understood his message, he had no idea. He’d only ever used it on Roc, and it never had much effect on that impertinent male.

When he took a step closer, she blurted panickedly, “Finders keepers, losers weepers!”

That stopped Zaek in his tracks. For a second they just blinked at each other before she snorted out what sounded like a hysterical laugh, which cut off just as abruptly as it started when he narrowed his eyes at her. Her face went white, and he heard her gulp.

For a human, particularly such a minuscule one, she was brave. While that was a trait he admired greatly, he was more than a little offended she suggested he squall like an Earthian infant.

Straightening to his full height, he glared down at her and growled, “I do not weep, human. Move aside oryouare the one that will be bawling.”

Satisfaction spread through him at delivering such an exemplary and clever retort, even as he felt a twinge for threatening her.

“Only if I lose the device,” she squeaked. “They’d probably kill me.”

Zaek reared back slightly at that statement, his immediate reaction at the thought of her death one of violent refusal, before good sense kicked in and he decided she, like Roc, must be fond of exaggerating. He huffed and, tiring of the delay, however interesting he might find it, stalked up to her and cupped her narrow shoulders in his clawed hands, intending to move her away from his beacon.

However, the second he was standing close enough to get an undiluted whiff of her scent, the tingle in his mouth—the one he’d refused to acknowledge—changed to a swelling sensation.Thathe could not dismiss as some random aliment.

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