Page 5 of Claimed By her Alien Prince

Suddenly the car was filled with the sounds of the National Emergency Alert System coming from the radio and our phones.

My fingers shook so badly while I searched for my phone inside my purse, I fumbled it to the ground.

Milo moved the car to the side before paging through his, but then the sound on the radio stopped and a robotic, emotionless voice announced, "Imminent threat, seek shelter immediately. Imminent threat, seek shelter immediately."

The message repeated over and over until Milo turned the radio off. Just then, his phone rang.

"Hello?... Mr. Vanderkamp… Yes, sir… mmhmm… Yes, sir…"

I tried my hardest to listen to my father's end of the conversation. Milo's blanching face didn't bode well however. When he hung up, he was silent for a long time and everything inside me knotted and stopped me from asking. Whatever it was, I feared deep in my bones I didn't want to hear it.

"Your father… Mr. Vanderkamp… he wants me to take you to the airport. The private airport," he finally said, but his voice didn't sound like him any longer.

"To go where?"

Milo turned to the front of the car, unable to look me in the eyes. "Home, Miss Lilith."

"Home?" I didn't understand. Home was here, in New York.

"Guatemala," he said.

"Guatemala?" I echoed.

It didn't take long before chaos reigned over New York. We witnessed several more car accidents, a shootout, looters, and heard sirens that wailed nonstop.

"What is happening?" I asked subdued.

"They're back," Milo responded cryptically, and I sent a sharp glance at the back of his head, where the effect was unfortunately lost on him.

"Who is back?"

Just then a humongous shadow fell over us, so large, it drowned out all the light and made it appear as if night had fallen over New York. Most people ran screaming across the streets, looking for shelter, but some stood rooted to the spot, looking up like frozen pillars of salt.

As much as I craned my neck, the window didn't let me see and Milo must have activated the locks, because I couldn't roll it down either.

Something slammed into a man standing by the side of the road, something gray and large and frightening, and I screamed.

"What is happening?" I cried again, but Milo remained quiet. Grimly clutching the steering wheel, he drove on at criminal speed, honking at people who didn't get out of his way quickly enough.

"We might need a chopper extraction," I had no idea who Milo was talking to, "Roger that," especially in this clipped military tone.

He paused, "We are still fifteen minutes out. Hostiles are—"

He swerved and I shrieked as something heavy hit the car with a thud.

"Shit, we need extraction. I repeat, we need extraction."

What the hell was happening?

My heart beat in my throat as I held on to theoh shithandle, as Milo was now driving on the sidewalk and not slowing. Panicked people screamed, jumped out of the way, and I saw a gray shadow rush by.

Milo maneuvered us back onto the road, but then we stopped. The motor just died.

And so did everybody else's. Even inside the well insulated car, I heard the sounds of metal hitting metal, as stalling vehicles hit one another.

I tried the door handle, but it was locked. "Milo!" I complained. "Let me out."

"I'm sorry, Miss Lilith, this is for your own safety."

---