Page 237 of Scorching the Alien Empire
But I breathe deep. This isn’t Sandra’s fault. It’s Bitch Brick’s.
I wipe my eyes, smile through the cracks, and cup Sandra’s face gently.
“It’s okay. I forgive you,” I whisper. “I know she’s controlling your mind.” I sniffle, nodding solemnly—my Elerium promise. “Don’t worry, I’ll beat her. And then you’ll be my ginger-in-waiting again.”
Sandra slaps my hand away like I’m contagious. Clearly mind-controlled. Her freckled face twists with rage. “What mental shit are you on about now?” she sneers, twisting the stiletto heel deeper. “If anyone’s mind-controlling me, it’s you.”
“Shush, Sandra. No more words.” I place a finger to my lips, my words calm, understanding. “You’ll understand soon. And then you’ll thank me,” I murmur with sad, infinite patience. “Don’t worry—I’ll not hold this against you. Because we’re best friends.”
Sandra’s mouth works soundlessly, utterly flabbergasted.
Without another word, I hoist the Divine Cherub’s half-sleeping, slightly less plumpness onto my shoulders—the universe’s angriest, stinkiest scarf.
I wish I could say more. Set her mind at ease, but it’s too risky. I need to keep the billiards close to my chest, now she’s a double agent.
“We’ll talk soon,” I promise cheerfully, already halfway to the door, feeling lighter, freer, moredeterminedthan ever to beat Bitch Brick.
As I pass through the stomach-churning holographic barrier, Sandra finally calls out after me:
“Ugh! What the hell is thatsmell?!”
I smile to myself, never breaking stride.
Victory.
Chapter 44
Alexandra
Zen
Icheckmyselfoutinthe mirror.
And by mirror, I mean the polished silver mural depicting Smurfs crossed with Rambo’s bloodthirsty cousins as they battle red monsters. Impressive—but not nearly as impressive as what it’s reflecting: Todd and me.
I mean, someday they’ll teach this moment in history class. Right after Cleopatra and Catherine the Great:The Glorious Ascension of Cosmic Boss Babe Lexie.The moment when everyone who underestimated me finally received their long-overdue eviction notice.
Although, honestly, this garish orange-and-blue lighting is doing me zero favors. I look like someone lost a bet—half hungover, half walk-of-shame chic.
My eyes are raw and glistening, hair a golden, frizzy halo of chaos, black ceremonial robes a size too small. Okay, that last part was on purpose. What atragic accident.Guess I’ll just have to lean in even closer.
I wipe my eyes, smooth my hair into something resembling a style. Todd, meanwhile, croaks softly in his sleep, the absolute embodiment of squishy perfection.
It’ll have to do. Time’s running out.
Nibs scuttle past me in the corridor, their tiny heads swiveling, their beady little eyes prickling like nails against my skin. No doubt nodding with approval, assuming I’m admiring their grand historical mural—probably based on some old movie they forgot wasn’t real.
Smurf Apocalypse: The Reckoning.I’m rooting for a sequel. Starring yours truly.
I straighten, inhale deeply, and flash myself a wicked grin.
Right. Showtime, Lexie.
I tap my wrist console. A burst of blue holographic light floods up, offering way too many useless options. Luckily, I made sure to memorize two very important locations.
Two Big Chiefs. Two quarters. Two missions:Seduce Surfer Bro. Convert Big Belly.Easy. Like convincing boring, Human Todd to do my math homework back in the day.
But... which one first?
