Page 86 of Her Alien Neighbor

I lean my forehead against the bars. “Of course, I do. I’m yours, Axil. Always. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.” I thought he knew. It felt like I had made it clear that we were partners in this. I didn’t run away when he admitted to killing Trevor. I stuck around. But still, I should’ve told him. “I know your eyes haven’t turned, but I’d be honored to be your mate, if you still want me.”

His eyes turn watery. He covers my hands with his. “There will never be a day I will not want you. You are my heart.”

“Hey!” a voice calls from the end of the hallway. Officer Burton’s stern, unpleasant face appears, and the moment he sees me, he groans. “Jesus Christ.” Over his shoulder, I hear him mutter to his partner, “Cuff that crazy bitch. I’ll deal with the others.”

When I look back at Axil, his eyes are a bright, bone-chilling red color where they should be white. “Axil! Your eyes!” I shout. He backs up as far as he can inside the cell and ducks his head down.

Everything happens so quickly. Zev is still struggling to open the lock, and Luka is just standing there with a strange, narrowed gaze on Officer Burton. We’ve been caught. The jig is up, and we’re all about to be arrested. Why isn’t anyone reacting appropriately?

The only thing I can think to do is distract them. I don’t have any nude selfies to share, and I wouldn’t even if I did. Acting sexy doesn’t come naturally to me. But I don’t need to be sexy to hold their attention. I have other tools at my disposal.

They think I’m crazy? Might as well lean into it then. I open my mouth and let the chaos out.

CHAPTER 25

AXIL

Iwant to look away in an effort to hide my eyes, but I cannot. Vanessa is far too captivating to look away from. My draxilio is equally enchanted by her, letting out a steady purr as he watches in awe. I am not sure what she’s doing, but it is very clearly a performance as she sounds nothing like herself. What is this called when a person delivers a long string of uninterrupted speech? Ah, yes, a monologue. Lady Norton told me about this.

The monologue Vanessa is reciting is unfamiliar to me, but now that I am hearing it, I am desperate to discover the source. It is a poem, and it is written for someone specific, that much is clear from her words. She begins to cry halfway through it, looking utterly heartbroken at the raw emotion she is revealing.

The authenticity is not the most fascinating part of this display, however. No, that would be her voice. A voice that is not at all hers, but an impression of someone else. Someone whose voice is lower, and possibly suffering from chronic congestion. It is a voice that also sounds a bit like a horn, with a hollow honking quality to it.

I decide I do not care what this is from or who she is doing an impression of. She is clearly trying to distract the cops with how ridiculous, yet earnest it is, and it is working. That is the level of her talent. If we ever do get out of here, I will offer to move to Los Angeles with her, so she can keep pursuing her dream. Her talent is too grand to be wasted.

At a certain point, Luka steps in between Vanessa and Officer Burton, not saying anything, just holding Officer Burton’s gaze. Vanessa notices and quiets her voice as her monologue comes to an end.

I can tell the moment Luka has Officer Burton under his spell. The way Officer Burton’s features soften, and the glazed look of his eyes is a dead giveaway.

“Officer Burton, is it?” Luka asks, smiling.

Officer Burton just nods, his movements robotic.

“A pleasure to meet you, sir,” Luka says, his voice sickly sweet. “I am Axil Monroe’s lawyer.”

Vanessa looks at me, confused. I shake my head, indicating she shouldn’t worry about it. This is the ability Luka carries as a result of his modifications and has used it more than once to get us out of trouble. It is why he was so reluctant to help us now. We have relied heavily on his ability to influence the decisions of others, and he grew tired of exploiting humans for our own gain.

Luka’s gaze shifts to the officer behind Officer Burton, pulling him in. “And you are?”

“Officer Freeman,” the man replies, his tone dreamlike.

“Wonderful. Now, my client here has been wrongfully imprisoned, and I am going to insist you let him go.”

Officer Burton glances at me, then back at Luka. “He confessed to murdering my nephew.”

“No,” Luka replies flatly, “he did not. You misunderstood him. Isn’t that right?”

“Right,” both officers reply with a robotic nod.

“You do not have enough evidence to charge him, but regardless, there was no crime committed here, you see, because your nephew was a reckless, entitled little prick, and his death was an accident.”

“Right,” they repeat in unison.

“Trevor Burton was speeding down that curvy road, in the dark, at the beginning of a snowstorm,” Luka says, leaning in close to Officer Burton. “He lost control of his bike and went off the road, where he died. There are also several witnesses who can attest to him drinking at the reunion before getting on that bike. And Trevor has a history of driving under the influence, right?”

“Right.”

“Perhaps if he had been wearing a helmet, or sober, he might still be alive,” Luka adds. “But I suppose we will never know.”

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