Page 7 of Claimed By her Alien Prince

Milo was still sprawled over the car's hood, and with trembling fingers I reached for his neck and sent a thankful prayer when his pulse pushed against them. But he was out cold.

Before I had time to contemplate what to do, I was tackled to the ground. The gun flew from my hand, my elbows and the back of my head made painful contact with the pavement, and for a moment, I saw black.

Only the adrenaline spiking through me saved me from falling unconscious, and with growing horror, I stared into the face of the most hideous gargoyle I had ever seen—not that I had ever seen one alive and moving before this morning. It looked like its stony counterparts decorating buildings all over the world. Even down to its ashen coloring.

I screamed as it hissed its foul-smelling breath into my face, exposing sharp, long fangs and teeth. Claws dug into my skin, and I waited for it to rip my throat out.

Instead, it lowered its head and… sniffed me.

It reared back, regarded me through black, dead, slitted eyes and grabbed a handful of my hair to pull me away. That's when my fighting instincts kicked in, and I threw my leg out to kick it in the stomach. It felt as if I had kicked a rock. Pain reverberated from my toes all the way up my thigh. Being barefoot didn't help.

I pummeled the gargoyle's chest only to recoil when my fists made contact with the creature's rough, sandy skin, that reminded me of warm sandpaper.

Loud noises from above made me look up just as the gargoyle's grip on me tightened and it began to spread its tremendous wings.

The chopper!

But then my heart stopped when I saw what had caused New York to go dark in the middle of the day. Above the buildings, high up in the sky, hovered a spaceship. Black and large and foreboding, it looked more like a moon than a ship.

I loud noise rang out, and the gargoyle let go of me as black blood showered me. I realized somebody must have shot it from the helicopter, straight through the head. A one in a million shot or the work of the world's most renowned marksman.

I kicked against it, and it fell back, just as a line dropped from the chopper and a dark figure rappelled down at dizzying speed.

A tall and muscular man hit the ground. "Lilith!"

I managed to get on my feet. "Do I know you?"

"Come with me." He held out his hand.

I hesitated for a moment. "Not without him." I pointed at Milo.

"Agent Padreas will be fine, you have my word, Lil," the man said, urging me forward.

Stubbornly, I held my ground. "Him first, or I'm not going."

He must have read the determination on my face because he narrowed his eyes and relented with a curt nod. He said something into the lapel of his shirt and made his way quickly to the unconscious Milo.

Right before he reached Milo the stranger pivoted and grabbed me around the waist. "I'm sorry, Lil."

"Let me down," I screamed as he slung me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

I squirmed but was forced to stop when he stepped onto the rope, holding it with one hand, while his other rested on my waist to hold me in place. The rope retracted back into the helicopter, pulling us up, and if I didn't want to topple off the stranger's shoulder, I needed to hold still as Milo's body became smaller.

Hands pulled me into the chopper, and I turned on whoever they belonged to.

Theroundedwallsofthe great atrium had turned into a large screen projecting real life feeds of the atrocities taking place all over Adama.

My so called father, Behlial, had unleashed the gargoyles on one city after sending a power beam through Adama's atmosphere that instantly destroyed most powered machinery, computers, and gadgets around the globe.

Behlial cheered and informed us that in all the thousands of years since he had been making the voyage, this was the first time he ever had an opportunity to use the lasers.

Adama had surprised us with its technological advancement. From what mother and father told us, Adama was a primitive planet, and after a mere seven hundred years, nobody had expected Adamas to be able to fly, albeit in primitive ships. Or have weapons that were capable of inflicting major damage to theAsphodel'shull.

Some of their nations sent some archaic looking fighters into the air, but the few that survived the power beam were no match for our smaller fighter crafts. Within hours, nobody challenged us any longer, at least not in the air.

It was a different story on the ground as the Adamas fought the gargoyles heroically and even killed many of them.

"No matter, we have seven hundred years to replenish our stocks," Behlial pointed out.

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