Page 14 of Claimed By her Alien Prince

"Oh for crying out loud, you stupid ninnies, don't you know anything?" Sara fumed.

"Sara!" Homer warned.

"We are to be sacrificed to the aliens," she pointed up at the ceiling and I felt cold claws rake down my spine.

"Sara," Homer's voice boomed.

"Then you tell them I'm not going! I will not. I made that perfectly clear to Sergio."

"What is she talking about?" The new girl, Phoebe, who seemed much younger than us, cried.

"Sacrificed to the aliens?" Judith sniffed.

I grabbed the first chair, which just happened to be in front of one of the vanities, to sit down, because deep in my bones, I already knew where we were going and what this was all about, even though I had no idea how. But this room, no, not this room, the arrangement of it, seemed familiar.

I swallowed and in a barely there voice, said to Homer, "Tell us."

"If you would please just get ready," Homer pleaded. "I swear I will fill you in, but with every minute you linger, people will die."

I automatically reached for a pot of cream on the vanity. I didn't even notice the brand or anything, barely registered that it was an expensive label, before my hand switched to a soft cloth and cleansing milk.Got to clean the face first, the words of one of my many instructors filled my head.

Slowly the others found chairs as well, even Sara did, muttering to herself, but she sat down.

Homer took a deep breath. "Some of you may already know about your rare blood types."

I began to swipe my face with the cotton ball drenched in cleansing milk and thought of the gallons of blood I must have donated over the years. This was one thing my parents had been adamant about. From when I was little, they told me about my rare blood type, the rarest, and that I needed to tell the doctors if I should ever be in an accident or need surgery.

My fingers trembled as I remembered my research on it. Most people in the world were Rh positive, a few Rh negative, but what not many people were, or had ever heard of, was the third type, one so rare, that only a handful of cases had ever been reported over the last fifty years, with more in recent times: Rh null.

"You, my dear children, are all Rh null, the direct descendants of the Nayphyllym, who fled to Earth over ten thousand years ago." Homer's words dropped like a bomb.

I put lotion on my face before I reached for a foundation that seemed fitting for my pale skin and applied it. That's when I realized I forgot the primer and started all over.

Homer's voice droned on from far, far away, and I only picked up bits and pieces, too numb to allow them in for my brain to process. All while I prepared my face and body, to become the sacrifice Sara mentioned. If I had to be a sacrifice, I wanted to be a pretty one.

I did, however, make connections with Homer's words, as they did slowly penetrate my mind, making a terrible sort of sense.

According to him, the Nayphyllym had lived on Earth for over ten thousand years, had even interbred with the humans, shaping them into their image. Over the many years since, most Nayphyllym blood became diluted, and only a very small group remainedpure. My parents, me, the other girls here, they all belonged to that group.

They lived wealthy and in high standards among the humans, hiding in plain sight. Their only responsibility was to produce two children, a boy and a girl, to continue the pure bloodline. After that, they were free. Which, in a fucked up sense, explained why my parents were divorced and in relationships with other people, and why I so seldomly saw both of them, or even one. They just plain didn't care about me, as I had always suspected. I was a responsibility, something they needed to do, like write a report or pay taxes.

Eyeshadow, I thought.That's what I need next. And with shaking fingers, I dipped a brush into a light colored eyeshadow to apply it evenly over my lids.

"Sara, please," Homer pleaded.

"Not doing it," Sara said, rising. "I'm going back to my family."

"Your family will be punished for what they did, Sara. Your parents were never supposed to become attached to you or you to them," Homer chided.

Wait, what?

My fingers shook even harder as I mechanically accentuated the eye shadow with a darker color to bring out my piercing, light green eyes.

They weren't supposed to get attached to you or you to them, my brain informed me matter-of-factly, and for some reason, that made me actually feel a little bit better.

"If you don't go," Homer sighed, "millions of people will die."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Azubah asked.

---