Page 9 of Claimed by an Alien Warrior

Bullshit. Why couldn’t he just love me forme?

That deep, consuming hurt spread through her chest again.

“Fuck it.” She opened her purse, pulled some cash out of her wallet, and fed it into the machine.

A minute or two later, she was walking toward her car with a pair of Snickers, a Twix, a Pepsi, and a bottle of water. She thrust aside her pang of guilt; she was going to damned well enjoy this stuff before she let herself feel remorse about it.

A helicopter flew over the nearby desert, shining a searchlight below it. It sent a chill down her spine; she’d either seen the same one pass twice since she got here, or it was a second helicopter. What were they searching for? An escaped convict, a fugitive serial killer? And here she was, alone, at a desert rest stop in the middle of the night with who-knew-what out there.

She glanced around her. There were a few other cars parked in the lot, but no other people in sight.

“Stupid, stupid,” Zoey muttered, quickening her steps.

She reached her car — more aware than ever of the busted locks — and peered into the back seat to make sure it was empty before tugging open the driver’s side door. She tossed her purse and her bounty onto the passenger seat and got in. Fishing her keys out of her purse, she jammed them into the ignition and started the car. It sputtered for a few seconds before finally turning over.

Her nerves eased when she pulled onto the onramp, leaving the rest stop behind. She clicked her seatbelt into place and checked her mirrors as she merged onto I-15. The helicopter continued its sweep of the desert behind her, and another was moving through the darkness up ahead.

Something wrapped around her neck from behind — a powerfully muscled arm.

Zoey screamed, releasing the wheel to claw at the arm around her throat, fingernails scraping a tough, scaly material. The arm tightened, cutting off her scream. The car veered toward the side of the road.

“Control your vehicle, human!” a gravelly, strangely accented voice commanded.

Keeping one hand on the arm, Zoey caught the wheel with the other. Her stomach flipped as she corrected the car’s swerve, directing it fully onto the shoulder, and slammed on the brakes. Her seatbelt locked, digging into her chest as the sudden stop pushed her body forward.

Whoever was in the back grunted, and a great weight pressed against her seat from behind. The hold around her neck loosened briefly.

She threw the car into park and reached for her seatbelt buckle, but before she could do anything more, the man pulled her back. “Move this vehicle, now. In the direction you were going.”

“P-Please don’t hurt me,” Zoey begged. She clutched desperately at his scaly sleeve.

The car’s shocks groaned as the man shifted in the back seat. Zoey glanced at her rearview mirror and screamed again. She fought against his hold, rocking the car with her struggles, and he clamped a hand on her arm — and then, somehow, another on her thigh and one over her mouth, all without releasing his grip on her neck.

He’s just wearing some kind of mask. It’s a mask, and there’s another man hidden back there, grabbing me at the same time.

“Cease your struggles, human!” he growled.

Zoey stilled, squeezing her eyes shut. She just had to breathe, and all of this would go away. She’d wake up from the nightmare and still be in Santa Barbara with a shift coming up at Bud’s Shitty Diner.

But when she opened her eyes, the monster was still there.

She stared at his reflection in the mirror. The light from passing cars highlighted the fine scales on his lower face, keeping his upper face in shadow, and as he turned his head toward her fully, his eyes — allfourof them — met hers. Two of his eyes were positioned as a human’s would be, but there was another set at his temples, higher and to the sides. They glowed green, like cat eyes in the dark.

She panted against his large hand. He smelled like the desert — earthy, dry, primal.

The monster turned his head to look out the passenger-side window. Zoey followed his gaze to see a helicopter searchlight in the distance. Washethe one they were looking for?

“Move this vehicle,” he repeated, swinging his unsettling gaze back to the mirror. “Now.”

Zoey whimpered. She slowly raised her free arm and tapped the back of the hand clamped over her mouth.

He growled but removed his hand.

“Are you going to hurt me?” she asked.

“If you do not move this vehicle, I will have no choice but to harm you.”

“Okay. Okay,” she whispered. “I n-need both arms.”

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