Page 2 of Shadowed By the Alien
Despite my dad telling me I’m seeing things—ironic as that is—I’m positive someone’s following me. Though I can’t imagine why anyone would follow me for months and not approach me.
Then again, I don’t hear the downed sticks and branches from last night’s storm crunching beneath a stalker’s feet. It’s possible I’m making this all up in my head as a subconscious way to avoid Noah’s party and all the assholes that will be there, Noah included.
I sink into the swing, grab hold of the chains, and start pumping. My hair flies behind me, as does the cape to my costume. Cool air washes over me as I go higher and higher, close my eyes, and dream I’m a bird. This is as close as a girl can get to flying, without a magic broom of course, and I revel in the freedom.
Until that scent hits me. I stop pumping and slow down enough to dig my feet into the dirt. That scent isn’t my imagination screwing with me.
I hop off the swing, turn 360, and inhale deeply. It’s gone.
Or it was never there.
Maybe Iamimagining it.
My subconscious is creating a reason to avoid another boring, awkward party at Noah’s, where he’ll be sarcastic with me and I’ll ignore his condescending ass. I’m the obligatory invite. The cousin he’d avoid if our parents would let him.
I don’t want to go, but it beats staying at home on Halloween. Besides, I like monster music and scary costumes, though it’s rare I come across a creative one. The costumes are homemade, using everyday materials and face paint. Usually, I can’t figure out what the person’s supposed to be, and I have to ask, but I enjoy the challenge. According to my mom, the costumes nowadays aren’t as good as the ones from when she was a kid, before the occupation.
The wind shifts, and a hint of cloves hits me. There it is! That scent!
I’m tired of being in the dark, figuratively speaking. Technically, I don’t know anything else, but that won’t keep me from solving this mystery. Iwillfind out who’s following me and why.
I chase the scent until the wind dies down. That’s when I realize I’m in trouble. The ground beneath my feet is no longer the spongy grass of the park, or the hard yet crumbling sidewalks on the way to Noah’s. And I don’t hear a single trick-or-treater nearby. I have no idea where I am. It’s like I slipped through a portal to another world.
I’m outside my safe zone.
Alone.
The one place I’m not supposed to be. For good reason.
Calling out for help isn’t an option. That will only attract the wrong type of attention.
I wish I had taken a broom as part of my costume. It would have helped me navigate the terrain and double as a weapon.
Fuck, I should have gone straight to Noah’s. In a rare moment of impulsiveness, I ran without regard for my safety… all because of a scent that’s been haunting me for months.
I can barely walk unaided in uncharted terrain. Reality has clipped this raven’s wings.
I take a deep breath, put my hands out, and inch forward with my right foot, praying I’m not near any bomb craters, or worse, any men who will realize I’m the perfect target. The woman who can’t identify an attacker because she’s blind…
CHAPTER TWO
RENIKK
It kills me to see Raven struggling as she walks through the abandoned lot that borders the park. I don’t know why she ran off, but she did. It’s not like her to be reckless. Or to leave the zone she knows so well. And I can’t ask her why she ran. I must not allow her to learn of my presence at all costs.
She didn’t run out of the park from fear. Of that, I’m certain. Every facial expression, every tilt of her head… I know them all. What she’s feeling, thinking, except what made her run.
In six months, I’ve learned much about this beautiful female. From her favorite places to walk and preferred paths, to the tunes she whistles. She radiates happiness, despite her circumstance.
For as much as I wish she could see and not be limited by her world, her blindness is the only reason I can follow her as closely as I do without her knowing. Usually, I remain ten or twelve feet behind her, so she’s less likely to hear me, though I have a soft walk. All zyanthan warriors do; it’s part of our training. Tonight, I got closer than usual to intercept her friend Charlotte andmotion her away before she could tell Raven that she has a six foot-two, blue alien with horns following her.
I gave the card to Charlotte to read, the one I give all the humans who see me following Raven. It explains who I am and gives them instructions to carry on with their business without revealing my presence. The only way I can keep Raven safe is if she doesn’t know I’m watching over her.
Except now she’s off her usual path. Lost. I must return her to the zone she knows before she endangers herself, which I would never let happen. I’d sacrifice my cover, even my life, for her, without question or hesitation.
“Where the hell am I?” she whispers. I’m standing only two feet behind her. No male will dare approach her if they see me following. Given the hazards in this area, broken glass, metal rods jutting out from slabs of concrete, and deep craters that she could fall into, I must remain close.
Drekk. She’s walking deeper into the debris field. I see no way to turn her without touching her, something I’ve longed to do for months but will alarm her and require explaining who I am.
