Page 1 of Guardian's Soul

HANNAH

I thoughtmy life was over when the Cryons abducted me. Compared to what was happening now,thathad been a cruise—the food might not have been up to par, but what did I know? I'd never actually been on a cruise ship.

My mind was its usual babbly self. That happened to me a lot when I found myself in a stressful situation, not that I'd ever been in a situation like this. Nothing could have prepared me for this. The worst thing that had ever happened to me before was when my mom died when I was eighteen—eight years ago. Despite her sickness, she held on for two years until I reached legal age so I wouldn't be forced into foster care. It was her worst nightmare since it was just her and me. I had a dad somewhere, but Mom never said who, only that he wasn'tin the picture. The second worst thing happened when I was five and brought to the hospital after I drank an entire bottle of cough syrup. I didn't have many memories of it, but I did remember being scared when they moved me into a different room that my mom wouldn't find me. She did then, but I doubted she would have been able to here and now even if she were alive. I hadn't exactly grown up sheltered. I mean, I knewthat bad things happened in the world—or universe as it turned out. But knowing of the existence, reading an article, or watching a movie cannot prepare you for the harsh reality of it.

"Move it!" The Cryon prodded me with his cattle stick. Although not activated at the moment, its mere threat pushed me forward despite every instinct inside me screaming not to. I didn't want to walk through the mass of tables ahead of me. Tables filled with alien customers, most of who resembled creatures from the worst B-rated movies ever made. But the Cryon didn't leave me a choice. I had been on the receiving end of that cattle stick more than once, and I didn't look forward to a repeat.

Slowly and trying hard to avert my eyes, I passed a table that was occupied by four alien men. One openly leered at me with his four eyes, and I quickly looked away. He slapped my ass as I passed him, and tears stung my eyes at the thought of why I was here.

Sex trafficking. My worst nightmare on Earth, but here, it seemed to be a thousand times worse, judging by the kind of creatures sitting around the many tables inside what looked like a bizarre fusion of a high-tech and medieval tavern. My eyes roamed the large area, but I didn't see any other humans anywhere. Probably one of the reasons why every eye in this place was on me. The other reason I blamed on the fact that the Cryons had forced me to wear scraps of clothing that barely covered me.

During the past few weeks? Months? I came to accept the presence of aliens, but until a few hours ago, the Cryons—the ones who invaded Earth and kidnapped me and millions of others—had been the only kind I had seen. All of us prisoners had been held in cells before five Cryons took me and several other women to be auctioned off like cattle, not unlike what I had watched in movies. But having this happen to me felt tenthousand times worse than anything I could have ever imagined, especially with an audience filled with… aliens.

Some had four arms. Some had metallic skin or feathers and scales. I even saw a few with tentacles. They came in all colors and sizes, overwhelming my brain as I stood on the stage, clinging to the other women as our group, one by one, diminished, taken by the highest bidders. Never to be seen again. Just like it happened to me next. I didn't even know whoboughtme. It happened, and then I was all alone, and the Cryons took me here to this tavern.

Here, now, I was unable to stop staring and swallowing down the bile rising up my esophagus at the thought of what my future held. My mind was whirlpooling with fear, and I tried hard to fight the current that threatened to sweep me down to the abyss, leading toward a complete mental breakdown. Certain that once I reached that point, I wouldn't have the will to come back out.

What for?

The answer to that question terrified me because accepting it meant surrendering. I refused to do that, clinging instead to the thread of hatred simmering inside me for the Cryons and everything they inflicted on us—on me. That thread unraveled more with each passing hour. The human mind could only endure so much before shutting down.

I forced myself to remember the Wednesday night classes. I had worked as a fitness instructor at a gym, and every Wednesday night, the karate instructor held a self-defense course for battered, sexually assaulted, or even trafficked women. When his usual assistant called in sick one week, he asked me to step in. He needed me to be hisvictim, to demonstrate to the women how to fend him off since none of them—for obvious reasons—ever volunteered to be the one he could demonstrate his tactics on. Optimism defined me—I embracedlife with a bubbly, glass-half-full attitude. If I excelled at anything, it was motivating people, pushing them beyond their limits, and making them enjoy the challenge. So when my fill-in Wednesday class turned into permanent volunteer work, I incorporated some changes. I started the class with a warm-up exercise while I played songs likeRoar, Unstoppable, Survivor,and so on. Then I made Danny, the instructor, less fearsome. I forced him to brighten up his outfits, and I used some playful banter. When he pulled my hair and I turned to show how to kick him, I yelled,This is what happens when you mess with my hair. Or when I jabbed him in the kidneys, I announced,See, ladies? This is how you take down someone who tries to steal your coffee!When Danny flipped me to the ground, I lamented,Note to self: Stop volunteering for this part.I even got some to volunteer by challenging,So, who's next? Come on, don't let me have all the fun!I spent a few hours each week looking for more lines, anything to get more women in and to enjoy the classes that could save their lives.

Especially once I saw how they improved and how their self-esteem and confidence grew.

If they had been able to survive, so could I.

Or so I tried to tell myself.

Until their stories came back to me in that tavern. Stories filled with horror of what human beings could do to each other. So again, I asked myself.

What for?

What did I want to survive for? I had nobody. My mom died years ago, and I didn't have any close friends. Lots of acquaintances but no real, close friends who might actually miss me. The Cryons had even torn me from the few people who shared my fate. I was alone in an alien world. So what in the hell did I want to stay alive for?

My eyes flicked around the patrons' faces, searching for something familiar, anything. Searching for a pair of eyes thatmight hold a sparkle of compassion, that might be inclined to help me.

There were none.

Instead, the eyes were filled with greed, lust, and sinister lechery as they roamed over my half-naked body. To these beings, I was an alien—and a piece of meat at that.

I shivered under the lecherous gaze of all these men and not from the cold. I noticed a waitress, as scantily clothed as me and very human-looking, except her skin shimmered, metallic-green. She stopped in the middle of serving drinks, staring at me with curious, cold eyes.

The skin by the nape of my neck prickled, automatically making me turn my head to find the source. I did. In a dimly lit corner sat a man, his face obscured by a hood, creating too many shadows to distinguish his features clearly.

He stared at me like all the others. Still for whatever reason, my already beating a mile an hour heart rate sped up, and for a fraction of a second, hope seared through me. Hope that this man might be human, but it died as quickly as it rose when he made no move to help me. He only lifted the glass in front of him to call the waitress for a refill. The movement exposed shimmering silver-gray skin. No, he wasn't human either. Not that it mattered. Plenty of humans were just as lecherous as these aliens seemed to be here. I held no hope that any of these patrons would be inclined to help me.

The Cryon pushed the cattle prod deeper into my lower back to move me on. I hadn't noticed that I had stopped walking, staring at the mysterious alien in the corner. The reminder of where I was and the fear of what was to come made me take another reluctant step forward. The conversation below only picked back up when the Cryon and I reached the top of the stairs. That's when everyone in the tavern seemed to find their voices at once.

Thanks to whatever the Cryons had implanted into my headright before the auction, I understood what they were saying and wished I didn't.

"I'm next."

"Put my name down."

"That's one tasty morsel."

"How much?"

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