Page 7 of My Big Alien Bodyguard

I am melting as I look up at him with newfound admiration, and okay, yeah, lust. Wait. Am I making this weird? I don’t want to make this weird. He’s probably into dragon chicks with cool scales. There’s no way anything that looks like him would be into anything that looks like me. Right? Right. Of course not.

“I need a moment,” Simon Scowl says, gathering himself. He stalks out of the suite, leaving Zayne and me together.

Zayne turns around and looks me up and down. I can see the concern in his eyes, and perhaps a little shock. I don’t think any of the three of us actually expected that to happen. Even Simon seemed instantly ashamed, not that it fucking matters, given he was trying to kill me in the moment.

“You alright?”

I’m alright, but is he? There’s blood coming from between some of his scales, a neon green exude that slowly trickles down his incredibly muscular torso. I reach out for him, stopping just short of actually touching him.

“He cut you.”

“I’m fine,” he says. “Don’t worry about me. It’s just a scratch.”

It doesn’t look like just a scratch. It looks like Simon Scowl unsheathed his claws and made an upward swinging motion that would have absolutely crushed and decapitated me if it had made contact.

“You just saved my life.”

“Yes,” Zayne agrees, plainly. “And I need you to keep that in mind next time you decide to get mouthy with your manager. His threats are not in vain.” He pauses for a moment. “I am going to tell you this because I want you to live. You should run. Now. As far as you can. You should go into hiding until a new starlet is announced. With your temper, you are not going to survive this tour.”

He’s right, of course. I should run from the predatory manager, but I think about the money I’ve earned so far, and the money I’m yet to earn. I think about the fans, the crowds, and the performances. I think about the opportunity of several lifetimes. And I can’t walk away, even though the wages of sin in this deal are apparently death. And of course, then there’s Zayne. Big. Brave. Hot Zayne. If I run now, I never see him again. That suddenly seems like more of a pity than I can bear.

“Thank you,” I say. “For saving my life. That was actually pretty cool of you.”

He doesn’t say anything, just nods.

The moment is starting to feel uncomfortably and uncommonly awkward. Like there’s something else I need to, or want to say, but I can’t, because I’m not entirely certain what it is, and what Ihave the impulse to do — throw myself into his arms — just feels wrong.

“I’m, uhm. I’m going to get cleaned up,” I tell him. I need to get myself together, breathe, think, clear my head.

“Alright.” Zayne starts to follow me toward the hotel bathroom.

I stop and swirl on my heel. “Wait. What are you doing?”

“Last time you went to the bathroom, you climbed out the window. I’m making sure you don’t fall to your doom.”

“You just told me to flee.”

“Not out the window,” he says. “I’m coming with you.”

Zayne

This isn’t strictly appropriate, but neither was anything else that happened so far today. I had a feeling this tour would be chaotic. They always are. But Simon Scowl doesn’t often try to kill his talent in a temper, and never on the first day. This woman is adept at getting under the skin, and something else is going on with Simon, I’m sure of it.

I did not think twice when he went for her. Moving into harm’s way is a reflex where I am concerned. I saw the look in his eyes, the way he was moving with pure instinct. He did not think about that swipe. He simply took it. Pure instinct. His claws were largely still retracted but still by chance did some minor damage. It doesn’t hurt, but Lyric is clearly feeling very guilty.

“If you’re going to come with me, then I’m going to dress that wound. God only knows what bacteria have been installed in there.”

I do not object, though it is entirely unnecessary.

“Sit down,” she says, pointing to the broad edge of the bath. “Let me patch you up. I always have a first aid kit.”

She brings her first aid kit into the bathroom with a certain sense of pride that I find quite adorable. It is quite well appointed for the kit of a private human personage, but it is, of course, woefully inadequate for anything of my size. This does not stop her from trying.

I let her work on me because it is rather sweet, and for the first time today I know where she is, and she’s not actively getting into trouble. She seems to enjoy playing nurse.

Lyric

He’s just so big. When I touch his scaled flesh, it is tough, but not fully hard. It’s not easy to bandage him, largely because human bandaids are both too small and not at all sticky enough to grip the texture of his skin.

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