

Fatal Alien Affection

Natasha House

Books by Natasha House

Rebirth of the Prophesy Series

Fatal Alien Affection

Fatal Alien Attraction

The Jade Series

Curse of the Dragon (Coming Soon July 2016)

Touch of the Dragon (Coming Soon)

Rebirth of the Dragon (Coming Soon)

Copyright © 2016 by Natasha House

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author/publisher

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Café House Publishing

This book is dedicated to all my fans

# Chapter 1

A cry woke Jonathan from a dead sleep. A crackling noise filled the small one room hut, making his mother stir. The little moonlight that filled the room illuminated her blonde hair that was a tangled nest about her face; her normal calm disposition filled with instant dread. Flickers of blue light shadowed the area in eerie images that made Jonathan's mind go instantly into nightmarish thoughts.

"Jonathan," whispered his mother, her voice catching. He slid his feet out of bed, the touch of the wooden floor cold against his bare toes. He was going on twenty and had adopted the role of protector of his family. Jonathan held a finger to his lips, even though his mother and two younger brothers probably couldn't see what he was doing. Strangled cries came from outside, making his chest tighten with anxiety. He pressed his ear to the wooden door, carefully listening to what was happening beyond. You know what it is...

A shock of fear struck him, and for a moment he felt like all his limbs were frozen. The creatures from the sky, those who'd taken over the Earth hundreds of years ago, were attacking their village. Since the initial invasion village after village had fallen. Jonathan's fingers curled around the spear his father had made last year before he'd been killed by a pack of wolves. He continued to press his ear against the door, his muscles growing taut.

"I'll be right back," he said in a hushed voice as he stood in front of the door.

"Citizens," his mother said in a whisper. Her skin grew sickly white as she gathered her two younger boys close to her side. Jonathan fought against the need to stay and protect his family. What would Dad want me to do? He looked at the helpless expressions on his family's faces and clenched his jaw. I can't just leave them here.

"Get under the bed," he said in a harsh whisper. His mother scrambled to do what he said, dragging his younger brothers under with her. His family now hidden from view, Jonathan looked around the room to find somewhere he could hide himself. He heard screams next door and he felt his body tighten with dread. We are going to get captured. He spotted a cluster of cloaks hanging in the corner and ran to hide behind them. A low thud sounded outside, and Jonathan's mind painted images of the blue-skinned aliens known as Citizens. A group of Citizens known as Guardians worked for a company called Human Co; it was their job to hunt down and capture humans in the wild. The nearly seven foot winged aliens were far too strong and fast to out run or fight.

"No matter what happens, remember I love you, boys." He heard his mother's desperate whisper from beneath the bed. Jonathan sucked in a deep breath as the door creaked open. As if a death shroud covered the entire space, he felt the presence of the alien enter the room. He heard a low chuckle as if the creature was amused that they were trying to hide for their lives.

"Come out, come out, little humans...I know you're there."

Jonathan cringed, his fingers still tightly curled around the spear. What good was it though against a creature such as this? He heard a crackle, and even through the cloaks he could see a blue glow lighting up the room. An ominous feeling filled his entire body. We'll be seen. Rather than be plucked out like a helpless lamb, he stepped out from behind the cloaks. Spear in hand, he stood ready to fight no matter the cost. If he could get the alien away from his family, he didn't care if he was taken.

"Ah...You are a rare looking one." The creature's eyes lit up at the sight of him, a flame dancing in the Citizen's blue, webbed hand. With dark red hair, green eyes, and what his mother had told him was Irish skin, he probably was strange looking to the creature. "You will be a collector's item." The Guardian threw him a smirk as he took a step forward. Jonathan lowered his spear, eyes narrowing.

"It's rather hilarious how you humans think a stick will defend you." The Guardian's wings snapped out, filling the room with a translucent black and blue leathery substance. A sick, twisted expression filled the thing's face. "You're just embarrassing yourself now, dog. If you come quietly less damage will be done to your beautiful skin." Again, a smirk spread across the Guardian's face. "We like our merchandise flawless."

Jonathan's body moved fluidly, years of training kicking in. He saw the look of shock on the creature's face. The spear came up and toward the Guardian's chest. The Citizen took a step back just in time, the sharp tip grazing his black tunic-like clothes. Instead of growing angry the creature just laughed.

"You got some spirit. I underestimated you, red dog." The Citizen moved with quick speed to stand in front of him, his webbed fingers cold against Jonathan's throat. "Perhaps a red dog isn't worth my time—even if you are pretty."

Jonathan gagged, his fingers loosening from the spear. It clattered unceremoniously to the floor, making wooden chips fly. The Citizen lifted him off his feet, his body a rag doll in the air.

"Please!" a desperate cry rang out. The Citizen's head turned toward the bed, a deranged smile spreading.

Jonathan's mother climbed out, her face a mixture of pain. "Please...take me...leave my son."

The Citizen eyed her up and down. Soft blonde hair, blue eyes, and a shapely figure for a forty-year-old woman. "Very nice indeed." A cold laugh filled the room. A breath passed and a whimper came from beneath the bed. No! Be silent! Jonathan thought. The Guardian's eyes snapped downward. He dropped Jonathan and dragged his two younger brothers, screaming, from beneath the bed. His mother fell on her knees.

"Please! Please just take me. Leave my boys! Please!"

Another shadow filled the doorway, the blue flame from the first Guardian making the features of the second alien look nightmarish. The creature stepped inside, his black leathery wings stretched out around him, his black tunic-like clothes hanging around his legs. In his hand was an overly large weapon called a tranque gun. The aliens used the guns to capture humans without seriously damaging them.

"Leave the younger ones," a short-haired alien commanded the first. "We're wasting time."

Jonathan managed to get to his feet, tenderly touching the portion of his neck where the Guardian had held him. The first Guardian raised his hand toward his younger siblings, crackling blue lightning gathering on his fingertips.

"No, please, they're just children!" his mother cried. Everything slowed down as the Citizen laughed, shooting a bolt of crackling fire at his two little brothers. Jonathan's body instinctively moved forward. A blur passed in front of him nearly knocking him off his feet. His mother threw herself between the alien and his siblings.

Before Jonathan could react, the blue fiery-lightening hit her chest. With a sizzzz her body slumped to the floor, smoking.

"No!" He ran toward her and bent over her form. His brothers grabbed for their mother's burnt body. Several more blasts erupted from the alien's hand cutting off their cries. Something cold grabbed Jonathan and dragged him back from the carnage.

"Moy, you dog! She was good merchandise!" The short-haired alien's face twisted in displeasure. "You should have known she'd try to protect her young."

The hulking Citizen turned on Jonathan, a dark smile crossing his face.

"You want to join them?"

An empty sucking feeling filled Jonathan's heart—it had all happened so fast he didn't even know what to feel. His family's smoking bodies lay curled on the floor. Cold fingers snaked around his chest and pinned him down on his back. A sneering face leered in front of him.

"If you want to join them, I'm game."

"You've ruined enough merchandise for one day," the commander said, shoving the first Guardian aside. He picked Jonathan up by the front of his shirt. "This one should catch a fair price."

Jonathan's entire world crashed around him. He was forced from the only home he'd known his entire life, his family a smoldering death cloud behind him.

# Chapter 2

The sunshine caressed Zahara's skin; a warm glow cast through the branches of the trees above her. The smell of the woods always made her think of mushrooms. Every year she'd take out her little brother, Ray, into the woods and they'd make a day of hunting the delicacies for their mother to cook up later. She bunched her long blonde hair and tied it off her neck. She stood in the center of the woods inhaling as deeply as possible, closing her blue eyes. Zahara's mother had always told her she had the face of a pixie—an ancient myth of humans long ago. The men in the village had been chasing after her since she'd bloomed into a woman. Her mother had been pressing her to settle down for the last two years. Girls typically got married at age sixteen and she was eighteen now. She had a hard time wanting any of the men in her village. Most had the intelligence of a rock.

She wanted a man who could think for himself and she didn't have to point out the obvious. Plus, something burned inside her, something deeper than just marrying and contributing to the population. Why have children at all? They only end up as slaves. The thought left her feeling unsettled. She knew several women in her village near birth, and she could feel their judgmental stares for not helping the tribe grow. There were one or two men that had been trying to convince her to marry them for years—offering her a lifetime of smelly laundry and cooking. Like that was flattering. She had an image of the perfect man in her head, and none of them came close to matching it in the slightest. Whoever he was he needed to have hope that they could defeat the aliens one day—someone with a backbone.

A flutter of birds filled her peripheral vision startling her momentarily. Her skin prickled, and she turned around sharply, pulling out her hunting knife her father had given her. Nothing was there, but still she couldn't shake the ominous feeling that was spreading in her gut. She briefly thought of her little brother Ray. He should be back at home. Something felt off. Her heart slowly picked up speed. A cold feeling trickled down her neck.

Run!

The urge was so strong that she jolted forward. She could hear the flutter of wings, but something else filled the atmosphere. Air caught in her throat as she hid behind a large tree, her eyes going upward. A cluster of the blue-skinned aliens were flying high above her, and the rumble of one of their vehicles was making the ground quake.

Ray! She gripped her hunting knife, eyes wide. She looked at the weapon, realizing how small it was and how big the bat-winged creatures were. Pull yourself together, Zahara. You can't just let them win. Her mouth turned into a determined line, her body bristling. An animal instinct took over, and she ran toward her village, her blonde hair a wild mess around her face. She got to the edge of the woods to see the creatures dragging the villagers out of their homes and loading them up into one of their vehicles.

Heart pounding she assessed what was going on. There was no way she could jump into that without getting captured. She saw two, seven foot creatures go into her parents' hut. They dragged her entire family out, her little brother clinging to her mother's waist, screaming in terror. Something gut punched the air out of her lungs. "Ray," she whispered as she felt his anguish. Her eyes were locked on her family as the two Citizens tried to pry Ray off her mother. Anger boiled in her blood. Flashes of steel caught her eye—knives appeared in both her mother and father's hands. They plunged them into each other's chests, pulling one another close for a final kiss, dark stains spreading.

"NO!" Horror at what she was witnessing consumed her. No...no...no. How could they do that? How could they just leave Ray like that? She remembered hearing her parents whisper at night, and she'd catch words like Citizen and death. But she had no idea they'd rather die than be an alien's slave. Where was their fight? Something burned in her chest. Hatred. Not just hatred at the creatures that had destroyed her entire world—but her parents for taking the easy way out. The Guardian stared with disgust at her mother and father as they slumped to the ground.

"Weren't you watching them?" one of the creatures said to another, kicking at the bodies of her parents.

"What about the boy?" A blond-haired Guardian grabbed Ray by the scuff of his collar.

"He's useless to us. Destroy him or leave him, it doesn't matter to me."

Ray continued to scream, reaching down toward the bodies of her mother and father. Zahara had never felt such pain in her entire life. What do I do? What do I do? Her hands quaked as she stared at the scene before her.

"He's getting on my nerves." The Guardian sneered at Ray, raising a hand toward him, crackling energy bouncing.

Zahara felt something snap inside of her.

"Get your hands off him!" She bolted from her hiding spot, plunging herself in front of her little brother. The creature made a strange scoffing sound.

"You humans aren't very bright are you? Is this your coward family?" He pointed to the bodies of her parents, a dark smirk on his face. "I suppose one is better than nothing."

Zahara's hunting knife soared through the air. The Citizen let out a startled gasp as the tip of the blade caught him in the shoulder.

"Ah! You crazy little dog!" He moved out of her range as she swiped at him with the knife again. She heard a scoffing laugh as the other Guardian watched. Zahara shifted directions, slicing at the first alien's wings. She caught some of the leathery substance with the blade, and the thing let out a grunt of pain.

"You got yourself a little fighter, eh, Moy? Let's see what she can do." He crossed his arms, amused by the fight. "This is almost as good as the Quarry. Come on, Moy, she's just a little girl."

"Shut your filthy mouth," Moy said, his shoulder clearly smarting from the knife's dig, his right wing folding from the wound. His eyes suddenly turned to Ray. "I know how to kill a little girl's spirit." A blue ball of crackling energy materialized in his webbed hand. Zahara saw it a split second too late. It soared toward Ray, the air around it filled with blue sparks, lighting up her brother's face for one moment before striking him.

Ray's scream filled Zahara's mind. She watched as if in slow motion her nine-year-old brother's body slumped to the ground, smoke sizzling off his chest. His screams intensified. Another three blasts silenced him. Every ounce of her fight drained from her. A suffocating feeling filled her chest as she watched the last member of her family die in the dirt. The knife clattered from her hand.

# Chapter 3

Jonathan woke with a gasp, sweat drenched across his chest. He'd had the same nightmare again, but the worst part was that he knew it wasn't a nightmare. His mother and two brothers were really dead, and he'd been brought to a giant warehouse along with the rest of the humans who'd been captured from his village. That had been nearly two weeks ago now. A memory played in his subconscious.

He'd been shoved through the door, along with several other villagers. Scared. His security of home shattered. They'd been corralled forward, the Guardians laughing as they pulled the handmade clothing off each of the villagers. Shame burned his cheeks as the other slaves in the warehouse openly stared at them.

"Two at a time!" A Guardian stood outside a glass door, where Jonathan could see metal objects stuck to the walls. Two at a time the humans went in, where they were sprayed all over with a strange smelling fluid. When he was forced through with a woman he tried his best not to look at her. He let out a small groan as the blast struck his bare skin—a burning tingling feeling making his teeth clench. After that the Guardians had given each one of them a tunic to wear and assigned them a cot. Women on one side. Men on the other.

What had woke him from his nightmare had not been the nightmare itself, but a strangled cry from across the room. Several women and men were being led toward the sanitizing chamber. The Guardians must have raided another village shortly after his. The room filled with the thick suffocation of hopelessness.

The creatures corralled the new humans, sparking little balls of energy at their feet, making them tremble in fear of being burned. His heart twisted in his chest at the sight. He knew everyone else in the warehouse was watching as well. They always did. Every time a new human or a group of humans were brought in, it was as if the Guardians put on a show to prove that they had power over all of them. Despite the group of over fifteen slaves, his eyes were drawn to a blonde girl whose face was completely void of emotion. One of the Guardians, who he knew by the name of Moy, grabbed at the girl's ragged dress, pulled it off in tatters, and let it flutter to the ground before all the men in the warehouse.

The girl didn't flinch. The other Citizens ushered the rest of the humans over to the other side of the warehouse, but Moy stared the girl down. Why is he degrading her? Jonathan's heart panged in his chest. Moy was getting sick pleasure knowing the girl was being shamed in front of everyone. The blonde girl continued her blank stare, refusing to react to Moy's antics.

What happened to her? He'd rarely seen such composure on anyone. Moy ran a finger down the girl's cheek, licking his lips.

"What are you going to do now, little princess?" Moy bent down to the girl's face as she stood there exposed in front of everyone. "Want to take another hit at me?" He turned his cheek toward her, tapping the side of his face. "Come on. Try me."

Jonathan's mind was hopping. What did she do to him? He suddenly noticed how the alien was favoring his right arm and right wing. She wounded him. A small smirk spread across his face at the thought. I like this girl.

"Hand me a knife and let's go," the girl said, her face still stony. "Oh wait. You're afraid of a little girl."

Moy's face twisted into a sneer. "I wonder if I can make you squeal like that little dog did when I burned him alive."

The girl launched herself at the creature, jamming her fingers toward the big alien's eyes. Moy let out a surprised grunt, throwing her off him before she could reach his face. She landed on the ground with a dull thud. She wasn't a small girl, but neither was she huge, and if Jonathan was guessing he'd say she was roughly five foot six. She looked fairly strong, but then again most women who lived in the wild built up muscle to survive the hard labor.

He couldn't take his eyes off her as she rose to her feet. A stone sat in his stomach. If she didn't stop her behavior something really bad was going to happen. Moy's hand crackled with energy. The girl stared openly at him.

"Moy!" another Guardian barked. All the other humans were at the sanitizing chamber by now. Moy's mouth turned into a frown as he shoved the girl forward. She nearly stumbled off her feet but caught her balance before she hit the floor. The muffled groans of the other villagers rose as they went under the sanitizing chamber, ridding them of pestilence on their hair or body. Moy shot a small burst of power at the woman. Jonathan heard a soft cry at the fire that hit her bare body. A patch of skin on her back bubbled at the burn. Jonathan's hands tightened into fists. Don't cry, don't cry, he'll hurt you more, he mentally told the girl.

He'd seen these creatures get mad before, and if they did, no amount of begging would put a stop to the torment they could inflict. A few minutes later, the woman was put into the chamber. After she came out, one of the Guardians threw her a tunic. Jonathan had learned that the Citizens called them a pala. All of them wore it. It was a simple gray material that hung like a dress around their body.

Once the woman was clothed, they assigned her and the rest of her village a cot and walked out of the room laughing at their distress. Anger boiled in Jonathan's chest, and he tried his best to ignore the feelings that were pumping through him. Men couldn't associate with the women, they'd be punished for crossing to the other side of the room. The man sitting on the bunk next to him turned over, ignoring the sounds of the women's sobs. Once the Guardians left, the heart-breaking blank expression of the blonde girl dug deeper and deeper into his chest.

I can't take this. He rose from his cot, casting a nervous glance at the door where the Guardians had gone. At any moment they could be back, but he couldn't just sit there. Men whispered behind him as he quietly made his way across the floor. He stood before the blonde girl's bed not knowing what to do or say for that matter. Her head was buried in her arms, and her entire body was shaking uncontrollably. God, what do I do? he thought the silent prayer. After a moment, Jonathan simply touched the woman's back. She jumped, startled by his gentle touch. Her face flew upward, and he saw her hand go to her side, as if she was used to drawing a weapon. She let out a soft sound, and his heart tore in half. She had to be around eighteen, her big blue eyes betraying the pain she was feeling.

"Hi."

"Hi," she said, her voice raw and scratchy sounding.

"I'm really sorry about...what Moy did. Can I do anything?" He hoped she could hear the compassion in his voice.

He could see she was trying desperately to control herself. Her lower lip started to tremble.

"Please go away." Her face turned a shade of pink.

"What he did was wrong. You didn't deserve that."

"That doesn't matter now does it? Everything about those things are wrong." Her eyes narrowed.

"I'm sorry." Jonathan wanted to reach out and touch her again but held himself back.

She closed her eyes, inhaling and exhaling slowly.

"Everything is going to be alright."

Her eyes flew open. "How can you say that?" Her voice sounded raspy. Her blue eyes sparking with heat. "They stole everything from us. Everything. Why do we even have children? Why? Why do we even marry? What's the point?" Her voice sounded harsh. "Mother wanted me to marry two years ago." Her voice dropped into a whisper.

Jonathan listened to her. He'd felt the same way these last couple weeks. He'd beaten himself up over not marrying. She wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes closing. He remembered something his mother had done when he or his younger brothers were upset.

"Listen, this is going to sound strange, but can I hug you? I know you don't know me, but it might help calm your nerves down."

She sized him up for a minute, looking skeptical at his suggestion, but then without another thought she launched herself into his arms. He cast a nervous glance toward the door as she wrapped her arms around him, trembling like crazy. "What...is happening to me? Why can't I stop shaking?"

"Shh..." He tried his best to soothe her, his own emotions swirling around the nightmare he'd just had about his family's death. "We'll figure something out. It's not over until we're gone."

The girl looked up at him, trying to get ahold of herself. "What do you mean?" Suddenly the door opened again and two Guardians strolled in. They spotted Jonathan and the girl right away. He carefully released her and took a step back. Within seconds a hand shoved him against the wall, webbed fingers pressed up against his neck. Black wings rose around him, a dark cloud suffocating him, a blue face crinkled with hatred. Pointed ears protruded from the Guardian's hair. The creature's webbed fingers twisted into his thick red mane of hair, holding him captive.

"What do you think you're doing, human?" Dark brown eyes bored into him. He knew it was best not to answer the nearly seven foot creature that was hulking over his five foot eleven frame. Of course the alien had to be Moy. The Citizen threw him down onto the cement floor, pressing his foot against his back, the barrel of his weapon up against Jonathan's head.

"You know the rules. Stay on your side!"

Jonathan grimaced, expecting the icy blast from the tranque gun that would leave him immobilized for hours. The new girl was laying on her bed, shivering, but had stopped making any sounds at the attack against him.

"Please...it was my fault." she whispered to Moy. Jonathan knew pleas wouldn't work, so he stayed utterly silent under the mercy of the alien. He could hear the caulk of the weapon.

"I'm going to enjoy this," Moy said.

"That's enough," a firm voice said. Jonathan could feel the presence of the powerful Citizen the moment he walked into the room. "Put your weapon down, Moy." The creature walked over to where Moy was standing. "We need to preserve the merchandise." A powerfully built Citizen with hair as black as raven's feathers stood beside Jonathan's head. "Let the human go back to his cot. How many times have I told you icing is only under extreme cases? It can damage their skin, and my customers like a pretty slave."

The Guardian backed away, but Jonathan was still afraid to move.

"Get up." The dark-haired Citizen grabbed him by the back of his pala and yanked him upward. Jonathan half stumbled to his feet, feeling the lack of nutrition in his body. He'd arrived at the warehouse only two weeks prior, and they went through a process of cleansing their merchandise before selling it. That included what they thought was a proper weight. His once well-muscled body had lost mass. No Citizen wanted an extremely strong human for fear of resistance, even though a Citizen was at least three times as strong as a normal human.

He was half shoved across the room until he landed on his bunk, a tranque gun shoved in his chest.

"If you cross the line again, next time the boss won't be around to stop me." Moy's lips curled back slightly. The boss, who Jonathan had heard mentioned as Jeol, went bunk to bunk inspecting each one of his merchandise. When he approached Jonathan's bed he paused.

"If he breaks the rules again, give a discount to Holten, and let him sign him up for the Quarry."

Moy's mouth curved into a satisfied smirk.

"If he can't obey, there is no point in selling him to a household." Jeol's eyes danced with dark authority. Whatever the Quarry was didn't sound good to Jonathan.

# Chapter 4

"Zahara, watch me! Watch me!"

Zahara stirred out of her sleep with Ray's voice drifting in and out of her mind. A sharp pang hit her as the memory of his death replayed in her mind. She'd never felt more alone in her life. She rolled on her side, her stomach a knotted mess inside. Her thoughts drifted to the man who'd held her yesterday. Why did I allow that? That's not me. I'm not some weak female who needs a man to coddle me. She couldn't exactly explain why, but for some reason she had a natural trust of the red-haired man. Maybe it was because he knew he'd be punished for his actions but still reached out to her when she needed it most.

"Don't cry in front of them."

Zahara turned to see a girl on the cot beside her with a face as blank as a sheet of ice. "It makes them hurt you more." The girl was pretty looking with brown hair and brown eyes, but Zahara could see the deep pain hovering beneath the girl's expression. All of them had lost someone or something precious. She sat up on her bed, observing the different women who stirred from their sleep. There were no windows in the room, so it was impossible to see what time it was or if it was morning or evening.

"I'm Olive," the girl said to her. "You were crying in your sleep."

Zahara remembered tiny bits of her dreams—they were filled with Ray.

"I'm Zahara." They both stared at one another for a few seconds. "Where did you come from?"

"We called it River Village." Olive adjusted her pala, as if it was a fancy gown. Her big brown eyes were transfixed on nothing in particular.

"Umm..." Zahara watched the girl closely, noticing the deadness in her gaze. "I lived near there."

"That guy—" Olive pointed across the room at the red-head who'd held Zahara the day before. "He's from my village. He acted like he was too good for any of the girls there."

Zahara could see the bitterness on her face and figured Olive had been turned down by the man.

"Are you married?" The girl faced her, again adjusting her pala as if she couldn't sit still too long.

"No, I never was." She tilted her head down, now wishing she hadn't been so stubborn and had taken her mother's advice and married at sixteen. At least she would have had a few years of bliss.

"How old are you?" Olive turned her head, observing Zahara's features.

"I'm eighteen." For some reason she felt ashamed saying it, but again she'd had her whole future ahead of her in the wild.

"I'm surprised you've never been married. You're very pretty. Unlike my sister who had the face of a horse." Olive had a look of disgust on her face. "I had children you know." She turned her head away from Zahara. "Two boys. Keltin and Mosh. They were terrible children..." She shook her head with a laugh, and a soft sob came out her throat. "Every day they got into so much mischief." Olive's eyes misted over, and Zahara saw her shoulders shake as if she was crying. "It's stupid really." She turned her face toward the opposite side of the room. "To have children. It's stupid. You just get your heart ripped out watching them die."

Pain washed over Zahara. Despite this woman's somewhat stuck up demeanor she was still in grief.

"I'm sorry," Zahara said, and put a hand on the woman's back to comfort her.

"It's fine. I should have known not to marry like you did. It would have been far less painful not to lose anyone." Olive lifted her face and watched the men on the other side of the room. "He was smart too."

Zahara saw that Olive was looking at the red-haired man who was just starting to wake up.

"He was smart to not marry either." Olive walked away at that point, and Zahara felt pity for the woman. Her chest ached inside as she thought about what Olive had said to her. The girl was wrong. Zahara had lost someone. Three some ones. Even if she'd never married, she'd poured her entire life into her little brother. She'd vowed from the moment he was born to watch over him. Every time Ray had been upset, hurt, or wanted a hug, he'd run to her instead of her very busy mother, who'd lacked affection in general for her or Ray. She could still feel his little arms wrapped tightly around her waist. He'd been growing this year and was nearly up to her chin, even at age nine. Their father had been six foot two, and she was roughly five foot six like her mother. She remembered Ray running up to her and tucking his head underneath her chin and saying, "Am I as tall as you yet, Zahara?"

She gave a sad smile at the memory, feeling like someone had stepped on her chest. You would have been, Ray. The other women moved around the room, shuffling, eyes looking as vacant as Zahara felt. She looked up again to see the redhead staring at her, but she turned her face away. She wouldn't allow him to get hurt again, not on her account.

# Chapter 5

Thwack!

A smack across the face jerked Jonathan out of sleep. Moy was standing there with another Citizen who looked like a business man.

"This the guy?" the business Citizen said, reaching out and grabbing Jonathan's chin and tilting his head side to side. "He looks healthy enough. And Jeol wants what for this bag of flesh?"

"He's willing to cut some costs for you, Holten. Of course he said if the human broke the rules again, but I thought you'd like to at least take a look."

The business creature looked thoughtful for a few seconds. "Question is can he fight?"

"I know a way to get a rise out of him." Moy held up a finger and walked to the other side of the room. He dragged the blonde girl off her bed and shoved her toward the middle of the warehouse. She was barely awake, stumbling, trying to understand what was going on around her. The business Citizen simply watched with slight boredom.

"Any day, Moy," he said.

"Trust me. Watch." Moy reached for the girl's pala to degrade her, when Jonathan came undone. He suddenly found in his hand one of the metal spoons that went with his meal. He turned it around so the end was facing out and shoved it up into the creature's stomach. Moy, not expecting Jonathan to move as fast as he did, grunted, taking a step back, releasing the girl. She brought her foot up hard against the Guardian's groin. Moy let out a howl of pain, almost toppling from where he stood. Apparently they are more like us than I knew. Jonathan got in another jab to the creature's ribcage.

"Bwuhahaha!" Holten was bent over laughing, slapping his thigh. "Oh wow, that was beautiful."

Jonathan pressed his foot against Moy's throat, his eyes flashing with hatred. "Don't you dare touch her again." His heart was hammering in his ears. He wanted to laugh at how he and the girl had just knocked the cocky creature off his feet and made him scream.

"Get off me!" Moy's fingers curled around Jonathan's foot and with a flap of his wings slammed Jonathan onto his back. He let out an oomph, his head smacking the floor. The blonde girl was on Moy in a moment, her fingernails coming after his eyes. He twisted away from her and flapped his wings again, knocking her back with the impact.

"Why are you just standing there and watching, Holten?" Moy said, annoyed, and obviously still in pain at the girl's kick.

"This is too hilarious. My customers get bored really fast, and you've more than convinced me to take one or both of these two." Holten crossed his arms over his chest, still looking amused. Moy was back on his feet, scowling at Jonathan and the blonde both.

"Fatten the man up a bit more, and I'll be back in two weeks—discount or not I'll take him. I'm still thinking about the girl." Holten laughed, turned, and started toward the door, the Guardian following behind him. Jonathan watched them leave, wondering what was about to happen to him. Something was digging inside his chest. His mother had raised him to believe in an all-powerful God—and something buried inside said, this isn't the end.

A few minutes passed by when Moy came back into the warehouse. He grabbed the girl by the hair and dragged her to the other side of the room. He threw her onto her cot.

"You'll pay for that one day." He leaned in close to the blonde, his big wings spreading like a dark cloud around her. Jonathan saw fear spread across her face. Not if I can help it, you dick. Moy left the warehouse after that, obviously ashamed that he'd let two humans get the best of him. Jonathan felt a small sense of satisfaction.

After Moy departed, one of the Guardians slapped two bowls full of some kind of mush on Jonathan's small table beside his cot, giving him a wink. "Eat up, we've got to fatten you up a bit for your new father."

The food looked utterly disgusting, but Jonathan was starving so he quickly devoured it. He could hear the slurping of all the other humans gathered around him. It was the one time of day where he felt remotely normal. The Guardians all cleared out after a few minutes, leaving the humans to eat without disturbance. Jonathan found his eyes straying to the blonde girl who hadn't touched her bowl of food. He remembered that feeling well. In fact, some of the slaves had died of malnutrition because they had refused to eat. Whatever the Citizens fed them was packed full of vitamins so that they would come to a healthy weight for their new masters.

Something tugged at him to go check on her. If he was already in the process of being sold what could the Guardians do to him now? He finished off his second bowl and quietly made his way across the floor, all eyes on him. The girl was sitting in a ball at the end of her bed staring blankly at the wall. He approached her like he would a trapped animal, each footstep careful. When he got to her side, he knelt down in front of her and took her hands.

"You need to eat. It'll only feel worse if you starve yourself."

"He deserved that. Even if it kills me, god, he deserved that and more."

He knew she was talking about her getting a shot at Moy. "I know."

The girl turned to look at him. "He killed my brother in front of me. My nine-year-old brother." A flash of intense pain briefly crossed her face. Jonathan felt all the air leave his lungs as the memory of his own family's death washed over him. He couldn't breathe for a moment, panic filling his eyes. He could sense the girl's physical ache in his chest.

"He was the one that killed my mother and my two little brothers." The words came out robotically, but he felt every ounce of the pain of their deaths all over again.

"This can't be happening...this can't be real. Just a few days ago I was hunting in the woods with my brother. I was teaching him how to catch a rabbit."

It was obvious she was holding back a flood of emotions. The women around them murmured, because for the second time they were breaking the rules. Jonathan looked over at the door, but no one was there.

"What's your name?" he asked her.

"Zahara."

"It's going to be okay." He let her go, looking back toward his bunk. He saw a few tears escape her eyes.

"Thanks, Red," she whispered, trying to dry them. She picked up her bowl of food and took a tentative bite. He gave her a weak smile.

"I like that name. I might just have to keep it." He hurried back across the warehouse just before the Guardians came back in and retrieved the empty bowls.

***

Several slaves were sold the following morning, and the boss of the warehouse came and visited to make sure his merchandise was being treated healthy. Jonathan was forced onto a strange contraption where he had to run for most of two hours. By the end he was so exhausted that he practically fell into his cot. He figured they were trying to get him into decent shape for whatever the Quarry held for him.

"I overheard where they are sending you," one man said to him. His brown hair hung in his eyes. "I'm Maverick." He shook his hand, a sad look on his face. "I've heard the Guardians talking about it." His skin paled of color. "It's brutal."

"I'll be okay." Somehow speaking the words out loud felt right. Even if he knew from what this man was saying that it definitely wasn't going to be alright. Maverick gave him a piteous look as if he knew Jonathan was in total denial.

"I don't know what's worse though. Being a slave to one of them for the rest of your life, or getting it all over quick." An empty look filled Maverick's eyes. Jonathan had to turn away from the sight. Something buried way deep inside of him said, don't give up. The voice sounded like his mother. If she was here right now she'd tell him not to lie down and quit. After his father had died, he'd been the man of the house, and the one thing he'd learned was not to give up easily. He needed that now more than ever.

Jonathan could feel the restlessness of everyone around him—the knowledge that they could be sold at any time. He tried to shut out the faces of his family, but every time he closed his eyes he saw his two little brothers. Be strong, Jonathan, for them. You have to make it out of here and do something. A strange feeling washed over him. Words he hadn't heard since he was a child played through his mind.

There will be one. One who rises above them all. A man of valor and great strength who will free us from the fall. Others will join his name that will ring, will stand beside him, beating the enemy with a great wing. A strength will come in the strangest of ways. An unknown source of power will break through the haze. Every human captive will be set free. Don't lose heart just wait and see.

The words sent a shudder up his spine. It was a prophesy. His mother had made him recite it over and over as a child. Why am I remembering this now? Who is the one? He had no idea why, but he felt he had a hand in the prophesy. Suddenly he felt a presence hovering over his bed. A hand touched him, and he nearly jumped.

"Sorry...I just...wanted to..." Zahara's voice whispered. Jonathan's heart nearly stopped. If any of the Guardians found out about this they'd both be punished. Her hand brushed his bare chest, and again he nearly jumped out of his skin. "I just..." She couldn't seem to finish anything she said.

"Did you want to lie here with me for a minute?"

"Yeah." The word was so quiet he almost didn't hear it.

Despite his inner turmoil, he let the girl into his bed.

"Are you okay?" he whispered. The feel of her soft body against his and her hand over his chest made his heart ache.

"I think so."

He hadn't had a wife back home, even though he was nearing on twenty. Most of his tribe married when they were sixteen, since the human race had been so depleted over the years.

Zahara softy touched the side of his face. "I'm sorry, Red, I hope you don't mind," she whispered into his ear. He could hear the inner struggle in her voice. She had appeared to be the strong, independent type. But even the strongest person had a breaking point.

"It's okay. I don't mind." He drew in a deep breath. There was nothing sexual about their touch, it was pure affection. They lay there for several moments in complete silence, hearing the sounds of everyone around them. Soon he noticed that Zahara's breathing had deepened. He knew he couldn't let her sleep long, but he didn't have the heart to wake her up right now. It reminded him of when his little brothers would fall asleep on his chest, and the pain of loss hit him all over again. Tears trailed down his cheeks as he held Zahara close to him.

After a long while, he gently shook her awake.

"I'm sorry, did I fall asleep?"

"It's okay, but if we are found like this it's not going to go well for either of us."

She unfurled herself from him, bent over, and softly kissed his cheek. "Thank you." Her voice broke as she said the words, and he heard her quietly walk to the other side of the warehouse. Her kiss remained imprinted on his cheek.

# Chapter 6

Heat filled Zahara's cheeks at the thought of what she'd done last night. She'd never done that type of thing before, and now several thoughts were roaming around in her head. What does he think of me now? A poor, helpless woman who needs a man. That's not me. She cycled through the past when men had tried to convince her that she needed a strong protector for the rough life they led. From the moment she could grip a weapon, her father had taught her how to swing a knife or wrestle down a wild animal. Now here she was coddling to her weakest form.

Olive walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder. "I saw you get up last night." Her eyes narrowed. "Where did you go?"

The girl's brow was furrowed as if trying to figure Zahara out.

"Something happened to me. I did something stupid."

"It's called trauma. We all do stupid stuff under it." Olive appeared to be absorbed in a past memory. "I lost my first child." Her lips pressed into a firm line. Zahara could see how painful the thoughts were for the girl. She cleared her throat to keep herself from crying. "I was going to drown myself, but my husband caught me in time. Something...snapped. I can't explain it." She waved her hand in a circle, her fingers fluttering. "Sorry." She looked away from Zahara as if she couldn't believe she'd just revealed such a painful secret.

"I slept with him."

Olive's face paled. "They'll kill you for that. I've seen it done."

"No...not...that...I just laid beside him for a while. It was stupid." Zahara couldn't keep her eyes off Jonathan. Maybe she'd completely lost her mind—maybe this was a form of drowning herself.

"You don't get it. It doesn't matter if you didn't have sex, if the Guardians found you—they wouldn't think twice." Olive's face began to turn a sickly yellow color.

"Are you going to vomit?" Zahara put a hand on the girl's back.

"I've seen them..." She looked at the sanitizing chamber for a long moment. "I've seen them..." She shook her head. "Just don't do it again. Please. For both your sakes." Olive quietly wandered away seemingly lost in thought.

Zahara tried to reason with herself the entire day. She ate and paced around the room trying to keep herself occupied. What made me cling to him? Why now? She found herself sending Jonathan small glances throughout the day. There was something different about him. It wasn't just his red hair that made him stand out amongst the men. His voice did something to her—as if he held something powerful buried inside of him. She shook her head, dismissing her own thinking.

Olive came back over to her and sat on the edge of her cot. "Customers are scarce today." Her eyes dully swept the room. "Whenever I don't get sold I thank God and I'm terrified at the same time."

"Why?" Zahara noticed the stress lines on the girl's face.

"I think they do something awful to humans who don't get sold after a while. They figure we're defective merchandise and discard us." Olive's fingers were intertwining into the folds of her pala. At her last statement, the door to the warehouse opened and in walked several customers. Zahara noticed how they would stop for a few seconds at each cot and whisper.

When the customers paused in front of her, again they whispered to one another before moving onward. These Citizens looked like teenagers with their soft faces and hair that was styled different than most. They carried on and continued around the circle of humans until they stopped in front of a tall, ruddy-looking man with a good-natured expression on his face. Some people handled captivity better than others. The customers smiled at one another and looked at his tag. They whispered again to each another before stepping out. A Guardian came a few moments later and led the good-natured man out. A sick dread filled Zahara at the sight of him leaving.

"What do you think it'll be like?" Olive said absentmindedly.

"I don't know." Zahara was staring at where the man had been. Where will Jonathan go? The thought made her stomach clench inside.

# Chapter 7

The following several days took on a routine for Jonathan. The Citizens made him exercise and shower. He was given a new pala to wear every few days and fed the mush that started to taste worse and worse. Every night he was surprised to feel Zahara's presence beside his bed. The darkness felt suffocating at times, but her very essence filled him with a hope for a future outside of this place. Something desperate must have erupted in both of them—some kind of trust was beginning to form. Is that why I comforted her that first day I saw her? God knew I needed her?

Jonathan smelled Zahara before she came to the side of his bed—her sweet fragrance like the lilac bushes back home. He felt a sharp twist of pain—he used to gather the purple flowers for his mother during their short blooming season.

"Hi," she said. He could hear the uncertainty in her voice. "I hope you don't mind this. Maybe I'm crazy."

"It's fine. Please." Jonathan reached out and brushed her hand with his fingers. He heard her soft intake of breath as he moved to let her cuddle up beside him.

As she lay down she whispered, "Why do I trust you? I barely know you." Her breath against his cheek made his entire body tingle.

"I can't explain it either." Jonathan brushed her face gently, sweeping the curls that were resting on her forehead. "Tell me this." He drew in a soft breath. "Were you the one who took care of your family?"

"Yes. And part of me knew that my parents were weak. It's why I took care of Ray like I did. I taught him everything about hunting, even though my father taught me, part of me knew deep down dad was a coward." Her body shuddered lightly. "I think I knew he wasn't willing to die for us. He was too afraid of the Citizens. And now here I am being weak—allowing myself to be comforted by a stranger." Zahara scoffed, but it was obvious that she'd reached the point where she didn't care. "Is it dumb that I trust you?"

"No," he said, because he felt the same way and couldn't put it into words. "It's not dumb. My mother used to tell me how you could know almost immediately if someone was trustworthy." Jonathan held her close to him and felt her body sigh. Something deep down inside him truly cared about this girl, despite only having known her for a short time.

Is God trying to tell me something here? He'd heard stories from his mother about what true love was like. After his father had died, she'd told him more and more what it felt like to meet the person you would love forever. What is it about her? He continued to stroke Zahara's skin, loving how soft it felt beneath his fingers.

"How could they just leave Ray like that? Why were they so selfish?" Zahara's entire body was taut with anger at the memory of her parents' suicides. "They didn't have to watch him scream and suffer—they didn't even try to save him."

Jonathan pulled her closer, trying his best to comfort her. He was thankful that at least his mother had attempted to save them all. He could tell Zahara felt betrayed by her parents.

"You need to forgive them, Zahara. They were selfish in their actions. I'm sure they thought you'd take care of Ray if anything ever happened to them."

Her entire body grew stony. "I tried. And look where it landed me? Him dead and me a slave..."

He wanted to say more, but he still struggled with his own nightmares of his family's death. After a moment he said, "I'm really sorry they did that."

"You talk about God right?"

"Yah."

"You truly believe there is a savior that could rescue us all? I mean truly?"

"Yeah I do. It's the lack of hope in the human race that is killing us, not just the Citizens. People have stopped trying to find a solution, but I know...there is something or someone who can help us out of this mess." He really believed what he said to her. There had to be something or someone out there. There had to be. His chest burned with a passion to find the answers.

"How can you believe that? How?"

"Call it stupidity. Or faith. I don't know." Jonathan gave a soft laugh. "If we don't have hope, we have nothing and we might as well do what your parents did."

Zahara stiffened at the mention of her parents.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. What they did is a symptom of lack of hope. It's a disease in the human heart. I'm sorry." Silence stretched between them for a few seconds before she shifted deeper into his arms.

"It's okay. You're right. They had no hope." She drew in a deep breath and let it out. "But when you look at our reality, Red, hope isn't easy to find."

Jonathan smiled, even though she couldn't see it. He liked when she called him Red. "That's why I live outside of reality."

"Maybe that's why I like you. You're a bit insane." Zahara touched his bare chest, and his heart began thumping harder. How did she do that to him?

"It takes one to know one," he said. Her hand slapped his chest lightly.

"I should get back." She climbed out of bed, pressed her hand once more against his cheek, and walked away, her footsteps softly fading.

Jonathan woke up the next morning already aching for Zahara's touch. He knew it was dangerous what they were doing, but something in him was beyond reason. From across the room Zahara looked over at him, a soft smile on her lips. Her blonde hair was curling around her face, and her blue eyes had taken on a new shine since the first time she'd been brought into the warehouse. Maverick came over to him, looking full of concern.

"You're only torturing yourself, man," he said.

"I know, but if I'm going to die in a few days I might as well enjoy life." Jonathan's lips twitched into a smile. He continued to watch as Zahara moved around, talking to the other women. She had told him that she'd been encouraging some of the other girls lately. Telling them that this wasn't the end, to have hope that God could one day rescue them from their oppression.

The warehouse door flung open and a customer walked in. It was a female Citizen with lovely golden blonde hair that hung down her back in waves, her black wings tucked away as she strolled across the room with a Guardian at her side. Jonathan's throat closed as she approached the girls and browsed one after another.

Please, please, don't pick Zahara. Please.

She shook her head at most and nodded at some. He wished he could overhear what the woman was saying to the Guardian, but they were too far away to catch it. The Guardian was tagging beds as they walked, until they came to Zahara's cot. The blonde girl was standing in front of it with her head looking down. The woman took her webbed finger and lifted Zahara's chin. At that point Jonathan finally could hear bits and pieces of the conversation.

"She looks healthy, but does she have any unique qualities?" The woman Citizen twirled her finger. "Are you an artist? A singer?"

"I can sing," Zahara said.

"Sing me something."

A sweet voice filled the warehouse as Zahara began a melody. Everyone paused to look at her. The golden-haired woman clasped her hands together with delight.

"Beautiful! But I want a closer look at this one. The last girl you sold me had some damages," she told the Guardian.

Jonathan knew exactly what that meant. He turned his head away at Zahara's soft sounds of embarrassment as the Guardian allowed a full check over. He knew the Guardian was being rougher than he needed to be, and his anger rose for the girl. Something about Zahara yanked at his insides, but what could he do for her? The powerful-looking Citizen woman gave a firm nod after the inspection and waved her hand.

"Get her ready. I don't have time to waste." The Guardian gave a wicked smile and proceeded to redress the girl, who was already trying to dress herself anyway. He shoved her forward, and Zahara nearly tripped over her pala. Jonathan watched her be led away, his stomach churning. I'll find you again, Zahara. Before she was led out the door, she turned and gave him one final look, a strange mixture of fear and determination on her face.

"I told you, man, torture," Maverick said, his eyes misting. A chunk of Jonathan's heart throbbed. Despite trying to feel hopeful about the future, at this moment all he saw was that final look on Zahara's face. How will I ever find her again? Can I really do anything to save anyone?

He swallowed the thick lump in his throat as more customers came in. A cold feeling washed over his mind as the business Citizen that had first saw him approached with a Guardian at his side.

"Is he to your satisfaction, sir?"

Holten narrowed his eyes, examining him for a few minutes.

"Get him ready." Without another word, the creature turned and walked away. The Guardian marched Jonathan over to the sanitizing chamber and he was stripped, washed, and given another fresh pala to wear before being led out of the warehouse. He caught eyes with Maverick one more time before the door closed behind him.

The lady Citizen at the front desk had dark purple hair, her blue eyes downcast as she checked over some final paperwork for each purchase. Within ten minutes, he was being led outside and into a waiting vehicle. The backend overflowed with nine other men, their faces blank as they sat against the sides of the vehicle. He found a spot on the opposite side trying not to look at the haunted expressions in the men's eyes. They all knew what they were facing.

The sucking emptiness tried to overwhelm him, but he shoved it aside, trying to focus on his mother's voice from the past. She used to pick him up whenever he'd fall to the ground, brush him off, and say 'Keep going, Jonathan.' He couldn't shake her words if he tried. The vehicle moved forward. A look of terror swept over the faces of the men seated across from him. No matter how big and strong they were they didn't stand a chance against a Citizen.

"We're dead," one man whispered. Jonathan looked away from them, feeling everything around him far more intensely than he wanted. He watched the city blur by—faces of aliens, humans carrying packages, and flashing lights amongst the smells that were seeping in through the windows.

They got to the Quarry and unloaded in single file toward a majestic stadium. Jonathan could feel the mixture of fear and excitement beyond the borders, beckoning him to step into its jagged white teeth. Several Citizens led them down a long narrow hall where they were put into small cells to await their fate. The room was painted gray, a small cot in one corner, along with a pot on the floor for relieving himself. Nothing else sat in the bleak room. This is where I live my final moments?

Keep going, Jonathan. Again his mother's voice came to his mind. He sat down on the cot, hearing the sound of the seven foot creatures walk away, talking amongst themselves about the games that would begin in the morning.

God, is this the end? He bent over the edge of the cot, his face pressed between his clammy fingers. Tingles of fear swept over his skin, until his breath became short. I'm going to die. His mind flashed to the faces of his mother and two brothers. God...please... Out of nowhere, a warm sensation filled his chest as if someone was reaching down and holding him. If he didn't know any better he'd swear his mother had swept him up into her arms just like she used to when he would fall down.

Keep going, Jonathan.

# Chapter 8

Zahara was jostled in her seat. She sat in the back of a vehicle which she'd overheard called a speedcar. She was the only one the golden-haired Citizen had purchased. As they drove, the city became a smear of color, blues and greens mixed together, the sounds of the speedcars whirling as they passed.

A few minutes later, they were pulling up to a house with large windows, its white pillars rising up like giant legs. The golden-haired Citizen waved at a girl that was waiting on the steps of the house. She came rushing down with a grin. She opened the door and ushered the Citizen woman out, then opened up the back for Zahara.

"Oooh, new girl?" the girl gushed, and Zahara could see a genuine joy on her face. She likes being a slave?

"Moon, she can sing!" The golden-haired Citizen was waving her hands. "And her voice is as beautiful as Fawn and Raven. Can you get her something pretty to wear and get her settled?" The alien started walking toward the house, her wings tucked against her back, her golden-blonde hair blowing in the light breeze.

"Of course, Mistress!" Moon ushered Zahara through the front door, chattering as she did. "I'll get you settled in your room as soon as possible. You are going to love Mistress. Her husband is a bit of a stickler, but he's not such a bad fellow once you get to know him." The girl's light brown hair was in a loose bun on her head, her blue eyes bright with excitement. If Zahara had to guess she'd say the girl was twenty. She was in awe of her surroundings as Moon led her through an airy entry way with glistening statues, sparkling lights, and wooden furniture that looked like it was well taken care of.

"Some of the humans here have made these beautiful pieces." Moon's hand brushed over a trunk. "Mistress gets giddy about it all."

The girl led her down a long hall, where Zahara noticed more statues and decorative glass shaped into various things. Moon stopped before a door and opened it up.

"You'll be sharing a room with Fawn, but don't worry, she's very nice."

Zahara walked into the room, her breath catching in her throat. It was decorated with golden instruments on the wall, a soft fur rug, and two beds that were on opposite sides of the room.

"You'll meet Fawn soon, but first let's get you something pretty to wear." Moon headed toward a wardrobe and rifled through several dresses. She finally pulled out a light purple one and held it out. "Here. I think this one will be perfect."

Zahara took the clothing and gently held it against her. "Thank you, Moon." Her uncertainty must have shown on her face, because Moon leaned in close to her.

"Don't worry. Out of all the Citizens to be a slave of, Mistress is the best. Just sing as beautifully as you can, and you'll be well taken care of." The girl gave her a warm smile and headed out the door. "I'll be back to check on you later. Mistress will want her tea soon. Once you change feel free to explore the house." She walked out, humming under her breath as she did.

Zahara stood in the center of the room, overwhelmed with everything. She wasn't sure how she felt at the moment. Slavery wasn't exactly something to be happy about, but despite it she couldn't help feel a little bit of Moon's joy. There was something in this house that honored talent, and she could live with that for the time being. She slipped on the purple dress, loving the way the soft material felt against her skin. She walked over to a mirror and grabbed a brush that sat on the low dresser attached. After a few minutes, she started to feel half way decent again.

Maybe this new life will be okay after all.

She headed out the door, the purple dress swishing around her feet. She could hear voices drifting in and out of several rooms. Zahara peeked in the first one to see a man leaning over a canvas, splashes of color sending euphoric feelings through her. She turned her head to see several other paintings on the wall making her breath catch in her throat. Beautiful...

As if not wanting to disturb a butterfly in the process, she closed the door again. Her feet continued to pad down the hall, but she couldn't help pausing before the next door. Inside she could hear several women chattering, giggling, making happy squeals, accompanied by a whirling noise.

Zahara's fingers tucked around the door, and she opened it just wide enough to look inside. Women had shimmering material over their laps, their fingers flying with precision as they sewed, knit, and laughed with one another. Shades of blue, purple, gold, and silver were spread out over laps and chairs.

"Hello there!" one called to her with a cheery smile.

"Hello!" she called back, blushing at having been caught.

"Oh, don't fret! We are all a friendly bunch! Except Matilda there—she is quite a grump!"

The one who was Matilda scowled and continued her sewing, ignoring the comment. Zahara put a hand over her mouth stifling a giggle. She gave a wave to the group of women and hurried on her way to explore more of the house.

Zahara stopped at the next door and opened it easily. Inside a man bent over a machine that was creating bubbles of glass in colored patterns. Wow... She eased the door back shut, her heart swelling. This place...is another world.

# Chapter 9

A cold laugh woke Jonathan out of a restless sleep. A blue face peered through the bars, taunting eyes that said you're dead.

"Look at this one. He's red." One of the male Citizens slipped into his cell, cracking his fingers. "Let me take a fine look at him. I'd wager fifty that he lasts longer than cell three over there."

"I don't know. He's got less muscle than cell three," another Citizen said, his long brown hair braided down his back.

"But look at that hair!" the first Citizen said with a loud laugh. More aliens filtered into the cells taking wagers with one another on each human. Most of them were fascinated with his red hair and commented on it.

"Look at this beauty, oh wow. Lon, I think we should buy the poor thing. He's awfully rare looking." A female in a golden pala stood before him, her outfit glittered beneath the lights. Her face was beautiful for an alien. What he assumed was her spouse stood beside her.

"Oh, Fanna, he's not a pet, he's a man. What would you do with him? We are here for the games not to buy another human for you."

The female pouted, her golden-blonde hair swept back from her face in large curls. "You never let me have fun, Lon." She followed behind her spouse, arms looped through his. She gave Jonathan a final sad glance before parting. Something churned inside him. He tried to force it back down, but it rose anyway. There was something familiar about the female Citizen. He wasn't quite sure what, but if he could just survive long enough...maybe he would find out. A strange sense of hope stirred in his chest. Though he was not sure why.

Pretty soon the crowd had filtered through and bets had been placed on each one of the humans locked up in their cells. His heart hammered as one by one the spectators left.

The Guardians came around an hour or so later and fed them. Jonathan tried to force the food down his throat, but his stomach kept churning.

"One more hour, pretties!" one of the Guardians said with a laugh. He stopped for a moment longer at Jonathan's cell, making a kissy face. "You're going last. Most of our customers really like you."

Jonathan sat on his cot, thoughts moving in and out of his head like cobra strikes. What if I die? What if...this is the last hour of my life? God, aren't you listening to me? He could hear some muffled cries from the cells next door and his heart began to ache. Was he a fool for even thinking there was a Savior? Each minute that ticked by filled him with dread until he was almost consumed by it.

"Alright, dogs! Time to fight!" The first cell was opened. A tall, skinny man was led out toward the door at the end of the hall. Jonathan felt the fear thick in the air, tasting the salt from his own sweat.

"Focus, Jonathan," he whispered to himself, blocking out the feelings, sounds, and smells as best as he could. The first man didn't last long. Soon the Guardians came back for the man in cell two. One by one they were led out, every few minutes another one being brought to face his death. A sense of peace washed over him after the fifth man. If he died he would be with his family again. He saw an image of his father smiling. Be brave, son, be brave.

Something inside him snapped. He couldn't just lie down and die. What about the countless slaves, the children who were slaughtered? He couldn't just give up like a worm and die. Determination made his jaw tighten, his fists curling. The Citizens led cell seven out. The more that left, the more resolve grew in him. He saw his brothers' faces, heard his mother's cries, and thought about the people in the warehouse that would always be captives.

Zahara. The thought of her brought a pang to his chest. I can't lie down like a dead dog. I have to fight. Before he knew it, the Guardians were at his cell door. He heard the dull thud of footsteps coming down the hall and turned to see Moy approaching.

"Now for what the crowd has been waiting for." Moy gave him a wicked grin and unlocked the cell. "I'm going to enjoy this far too much." He grabbed Jonathan by the arm and led him down the hallway. The other two Citizens followed behind Moy, letting him have his moment. Jonathan stood before the door at the end of the hall, his body breaking out in a sheen of sweat.

"For old time's sake." Moy grabbed a spear that was leaning up against the wall. He thrust the weapon into Jonathan's hand, laughing. "Say hi to Mommy for me."

Jonathan curled his fingers around the object as he walked through the door. Warm air blasted against his skin for a moment, and the light was so bright he couldn't see. When his eyes adjusted, he saw thousands of blue-skinned aliens sitting in the crowd. At that moment a cheer resounded around him. "RED!" It made him think of Zahara, and his fingers tightened even further around the spear. If he was going to die at least he wasn't going down easily. The dust beneath his feet swirled into little puffs as he walked forward. An overly-large Citizen was standing across the arena, a smirk on his lips. The creature's wings were tucked up against his back, his dark brown hair was pulled into a bun. Jonathan looked out at the eager faces of the crowd. There were high bets on him to last less than three minutes with this monster.

A smaller Citizen approached, a bell in his hand. He motioned for Jonathan and the giant Citizen to approach. Jonathan carefully moved forward, sweat dripping into his eyes. He swiped his hand across his forehead.

"Let me introduce to you our opponents! Our beloved MOG!" A cry resounded throughout the crowd, some of the creatures standing to their feet. "And our volunteer fighter today..." The announcer gave Jonathan a look up and down. "RED!" The crowd went wild with excitement as if Jonathan was a god. His mouth fell open slightly at their enthusiasm at his impending death. Despite all the stories he'd heard about these heartless creatures, it was hard to comprehend any living thing could be so cruel.

"At the sound of the bell you will begin your fight. But put on a good show, boys, or the crowd will be very disappointed. Good luck to you both." The smaller Citizen winked at Jonathan and moved away—like his death was some sort of joke to these aliens. The announcer lifted his bell up in the air. He brought it down, and the arena exploded with applause. A snapping sound brought Jonathan's eyes up. He saw the creature high above him, flapping his massive bat-like wings and blowing dust all around the arena like a tornado. He back pedaled, dodging as the big creature shot down lightning bolts—the heat of one of the strikes nearly nicking his heel. The crowd roared with applause as he used the spear to launch himself forward into a tumble. The brown-haired Citizen landed with a loud thud, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

They faced each other now, Mog grinning, Jonathan gripping his spear. I need to get closer to do any damage. Unless I throw it. But then what? As these thoughts passed through his mind, blue fire danced on Mog's hand. The crowd leaned forward as the two of them stared each other down.

Mog smirked, puffing out his chest. "You run like the girls they throw in here."

That's it! The best way to get at this guy is his pride. If he could catch him in a moment of distraction he might just have a chance. But what to aim for? Arm? Wings? Heart? Do these things even have hearts? He didn't know for sure, but he had to try.

Mog made a big show with his hands, lighting up his fingers with balls of blue flames, crackling lightning revolving around and around. Mog turned away from him for a split second. Strike now! His body moved on its own, as if someone else had taken hold of him. He tumbled forward, sweeping the spear at the creature's feet.

Thud!

Dust swirled around the Citizen as he landed on the ground, his arms and wings flailing. The crowd didn't even have time to react as he climbed on top of the alien. Mog's face drained of his boasting laughter. A flicker of fear swept the creature's eyes. Jonathan's heart pounded in his ears as he gripped the spear and drove it downward. He prayed he was hitting some sort of vital organ. Mog looked at the spear in his chest, then back at Jonathan.

A strangled gasp escaped the alien's mouth, followed by a gurgle. His webbed fingers tried to grab at the spear, but the look of death was already on his face. Jonathan had seen enough of it over the years to know.

The balls of fire in Mog's hand were still hovering in the air. He struggled beneath Jonathan's weight, and let the fire fly from his fingers. Jonathan momentarily froze, only twisting away at the last possible moment. He heard rather than felt the blows that knocked him backward. His skin sizzled and popped, but for some reason he couldn't feel any pain. The crowd was in an uproar as he struck the ground. Never had they seen a double death match before. Suddenly the screams began. Who is screaming? Jonathan's hands went to his chest. Something was burning.

"I...WANT...HIM!" A woman's voice suddenly rose above the noise. A flutter of wings was around his face, and cold hands pressed up against his chest. "He won. He won, and I will pay full price for him."

Who is that? The pain was beginning to build now, but the woman's cool hands had put out the flames that had engulfed him. A flutter of wings and voices filled his head. His eyes began to close. What is happening? Nothing was making sense anymore. Someone picked him up and was carrying him. His eyes rolled back as the pain from Mog's fire spread like a disease.

"Hang on, Red, I'm bringing you home." The female Citizen's face looked down at him. It was the same one from his cell who wanted to buy him earlier. Suddenly everything went black.

# Chapter 10

Zahara could feel someone staring at her. She was just rousing from sleep, tendrils of her dream drifting in and out of her mind. Her eyes opened to be looking at a woman with dark brown hair and the largest, roundest golden-colored eyes she'd ever seen.

"Good morning," she said with a smile to Zahara.

"Good morning."

"I'm Fawn. I will be your roommate as well as teacher. Mistress tells me you have a beautiful voice, and my partner Raven and I are happy to have you join us." She gave her another inviting smile, moving about the room straightening a few things. She brushed out her long brown hair, and Zahara couldn't help but stare at her. For some reason her presence reminded her of her own mother, and a pang of sadness struck her. She tried to push it down, but the woman heard her intake of breath.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm okay. You just remind me of someone." She tried to ignore the feelings that rose within her.

"Your mother?" The woman came over to Zahara and took her hands in her own. "In this place we aren't ashamed of the pain we went through. Raven and I both will strive to help you be happy—to find your place amongst this household. I know it's hard to let go of the past, but you must try to remain joyful. Mistress thrives on happy humans. For your own sake, let go of the pain of the past. Forgive. Move forward." Fawn gave a gentle smile, her golden eyes filled with warmth. "Give yourself a good cry, wash your face, and then we shall meet you down the hall in our music room. Alright?"

"Thank you." Zahara watched the woman leave, wondering how she had come to accept her fate so easily. She allowed the emotions of her family's death to hit her for a few minutes, sobbing quietly against her pillow. After the moment of weakness subsided, she pushed herself off the bed, splashed her face with some water that was in a basin on an end table, and walked out of the room.

Other slaves were busy cleaning, humming, and smiling. Something didn't seem right. How could they just accept their fate, despite how kind their Mistress and Master were? Was it a survival thing? Was that how she was going to be in just a short time? Pretending that what happened to her and her family wasn't real? That this world of fashion, glitter, and lights would make her happy and content? Zahara's dad used to tell her she was too stubborn for her own good—but she knew he'd also admired that about her as well. She didn't ever want to settle for some man who would coddle her. She wanted a purpose. She wanted to be able to fight for herself.

The music room was full of windows, filling the area with a warm glow. Fawn and who she assumed was Raven were waiting, quietly talking to one another.

"There she is," Fawn said, with hands ushered out. She gave Zahara a hug. "Has the Mistress named you yet?"

Zahara stared at her for a few seconds. "Named me?"

"Oh yes. We all have names that were given to us. You didn't think my mother would call me Fawn now did you?" The woman gave a soft musical laugh. Zahara had in fact thought that, but she wasn't going to say anything.

"No, she hasn't named me. My name is Zahara."

"Well, that shall do for now. I suppose Mistress will go about naming you later," Raven said from behind Fawn. He had dark black hair with strikingly blue eyes. His face wasn't extremely handsome, but his eyes made up for it.

"Shall we begin?" Fawn said to the both of them.

Zahara was in awe as Fawn and Raven sang a series of complex notes, filling the air with perfect pitch.

"Try this," Fawn said. She sang out a melody that Zahara matched.

"You're a natural." Raven patted her on the back.

***

Zahara awoke out of sleep, feeling hungry. Perhaps a snack in the kitchen will put me back to sleep. She climbed out of her covers, trying her best not to disturb Fawn, who was curled up fast asleep. Wrapping her hands around her arms, she headed toward the door, stomach growling. I hear you. She shook her head in annoyance at the sound.

Zahara cracked the door open and made her way toward where the kitchen was located. The house had its own musical sounds, creaks, groans, and soft thrumming noises lulling in the background.

Zahara was still in awe of the artwork, fancy furniture, and colorful statues that were displayed beautifully throughout the entire house. She paused before one, gently caressing the face of a statue of a little girl who was dancing.

A momentary pain filled her heart at the sight. Ray... She thought about how she used to watch her little brother dance under the sunlight without a care. I miss you, little one. She shoved the painful thoughts away continuing to walk toward the kitchen.

The sound of footsteps caught her attention, and she had the urge to hide. She tucked herself behind one of the statues as someone approached.

Moon? The young, happy girl drifted down the hallway, her light blue pala brushing the wooden floor. She paused before the music room, looked around once, and slipped inside. Curiosity getting the best of her, Zahara waited; she noticed Moon didn't completely shut the door. What is she doing at this hour? With great care, she walked across the hallway and peeked through the crack.

Zahara saw Moon rest her hand on a white statue of a woman and a man playing an instrument. What is she doing?

Moon grabbed the woman's arm and gave it a gentle tug. A portion of the wall gave a soft thrum, and slowly Zahara watched as it eased into an entryway. What is back there?

Moon disappeared through the wall, a light hum coming from the girl's throat. The wall closed behind her. Zahara would never have known that a girl had just walked through it unless she'd seen it with her own eyes. This I have to see for myself. I'll have to come back later. She quietly retreated back to the hallway, hurried and got herself something to eat, and headed back to bed.

***

Zahara heard Moon go back to her room and climbed out of bed, heart pounding. I have to see what's back there. She quietly walked down the hall and slipped through the door of the music room. The open area was bathed in shadows; white statues that normally looked cheery had an eerie overtone to them. She made her way over to the statue and gave the arm a light tug. The entryway formed, and she quietly headed inside.

The moment Zahara stepped in, she could hear a soft humming noise, like a gentle giant sleeping somewhere down the long hall. The door slid shut, startling her. I hope I can get back out.

The hallway was dimly lit with small glowing orbs, creating blue abstract art along the wall. Zahara moved down the aisle, her motions fluid like a cat on the prowl. She paused before an unmarked door. Here goes... She turned the handle and shoved it open.

The room had shelves lining each wall: food, jugs of water, and other supplies were neatly arranged. Why are Lon and Fanna hiding supplies?

She headed toward the next door. Again, more supplies, mostly filled with the tiny black jars of ointment Lon manufactured somehow.

Zahara quickly moved on once more, opening doors and coming across more and more supplies. She paused before the last door, smelling a strange odor wafting in the air.

She pressed her ear to the door and heard a soft humming noise. There's some kind of a machine in there. With a heavy push, she turned the handle and opened the door. The strange odor overpowered her as she entered the room. It's a garden. Zahara's eyes widened at the sight of growing vines, black plants, and a small stream running through the entire thing. A see-through tube filled with green liquid was flowing up and down like waves in the ocean. This place is gigantic. It must be where he grows his ingredients. Zahara glided through the room taking in the beauty of the plant life. It sounded as if they were humming a quiet tune. Her eyes were drawn back to the green tube in the center of it all.

The longer she studied it, the more she noticed something odd. It wasn't liquid per say. Zahara climbed as close as she could to the clear container, her hand brushing up against it. Skinny tubes raced up the side, traveling along the top of the ceiling and into the far wall of the garden.

What is that? Zahara followed the skinny tubes, until she hit the corner of the garden. A door was embedded into the wall, and a thin slit of glass was installed. There was no handle, nothing to indicate how to get inside the room. She squinted her eyes, peering through. A green fog swirled around inside some sort of clear container, much like the one in the center of the garden.

Zahara concentrated harder and noticed that something appeared to be inside...a...body of some sort. What is that? Her fingers explored the edge of the door, trying to figure out a way to get in. Is Lon and Fanna holding someone down here? She searched around as if the handle would somehow appear out of thin air. She pressed her hand up against a strange flat part of the door and felt several indents as if a key would go there.

Zahara peered through the slit again. The fog cleared for a moment, and she got a better look at whatever was inside the tube. Oh my god! A green face appeared, animal-like, with long ears, fur along the top of its head and down its neck. The fog started building again, but before it did she saw some sort of wings tucked up tight against the sides of the glass. What is that thing? The side of the glass tube read: Zoetic Co.

Zahara turned around, feeling disturbed by the creature. She was about to leave when she noticed a string of vines—a curtain hiding something beyond. What's this? She brushed the plants aside, peeking her head to see. Oh wow! A canopy bed rested amongst a display of trees, flowers, a stream, and golden, blue, and purple vines that weaved their way all over the walls. This is...amazing. Why is this here? Colorful glass statues guarded over the streams, magnificent wooden art was also strategically placed throughout.

She tiptoed into the hidden portion of the garden, drinking in the beauty that surrounded her on all sides. Wow... Her hand brushed the pale blue comforter resting on the canopy bed. I wish... Sadness crept up her throat at the thought of Jonathan. She turned back around, walked out of the majestic hidden room, and left the magic of what she'd just seen.

# Chapter 11

Something soothing touched Jonathan's skin. His eyes fluttered open to be looking into the eyes of a young woman around the age of twenty. Her light brown hair was swept back into a loose bun, her gentle fingers smearing something black against his chest.

"Good morning, I'm Moon. Mistress told me to take good care of you." She gave him a soft smile, making her look prettier. She continued ministering to the burns on his chest, humming under her breath as she did.

"I'm Jonathan."

She gave a nod. "Mistress told me you came from the Quarry." Her brows furrowed as she said the word Quarry, and he wondered if she'd known someone who'd been sent there. "Dreadful place that is. Some of the men from my village were sent there for sport because they'd put up such a fight at the warehouse."

Jonathan felt there was more to the story but remained silent. More than likely she'd lost someone she'd loved there.

"Mistress is wonderful to work for. She is a bit spoiled, but she treats most of us well. She lets me eat her leftovers at the table. She tells me I'm her favorite human in the house." Moon gave him a smile as she finished up with his chest and sat back. "There. That should heal up in no time. Obsidian Gel is some kind of miracle. Master invented it. It heals up the burns very quickly."

Jonathan looked up taking in his surroundings. The room had twelve foot ceilings, with high strung white lights around the top of it that glittered. The bed he was laying on was soft, and a small nightstand was to his right where a glowing orb sat. The wooden floor had a blue furry rug resting on top of it, and a white chest was against one wall. He'd never seen such beautiful things in his entire life.

"We don't all live in rooms such as these, but Mistress said you were special. She told me that you defeated Mog." Moon looked absolutely impressed by the notion. "How ever did you do that?"

"Dumb luck," he said with a forced laugh.

"I guess so." Moon rose to her feet, brushing off the front of her light blue pala. "There is fresh clothes for you to wear lying to your right. Mistress likes to dress us up." She giggled in her hand. "If you treat her well she will reward you, Jonathan. But remember she is still a Citizen, so don't cross her." She gave him one final smile and made her way to the door. "Oh, and one more thing. After your chest is healed up, take a bath. Mistress doesn't enjoy dirty humans in her house. The washroom is through that door. There is soap and running water." She nodded once more and walked out of the room.

Jonathan stared at the door for a solid thirty seconds before shaking his head. How had he even gotten here? One moment he was facing death, and the next moment he was being treated like a pet. Thank you, God, for the second chance.

***

"Look who's feeling much better!" A cheery voice rose in the air as Jonathan walked out of his room, down the hall, and into a sitting area. The area was decorated with off-white furniture, a pale yellow rug against the wooden floor, and sparkling lights hung high.

"Look at those green eyes! Oh, what a beautiful man." Fanna rushed over to him and brushed her finger against his cheek. "Let me see those." She tilted her head back and forth, puckering her lips. Jonathan could smell a sweet floral scent drifting off of her. Her golden curls were falling around her fair shoulders, her pale pink pala drooping fashionably. "I told Lon you were worth saving. I don't care if I have a hundred humans, you're special." She planted a kiss on his cheek, surprising him. She giggled at his expression as she pulled away. "Shh...don't tell Lon about that." She smiled and ushered him over to the sofa she'd been resting on. "Take the chair, take the chair."

He sat down, not knowing what to expect from this creature.

"Don't look so unsure of yourself. I won't bite." She giggled, brushing back her blonde curls off her shoulder. "I'm a collector. Some people collect abstract art or fine palas. I collect humans. Oh, Moon, dear, do bring in my collection for Red to see."

A second passed by when Moon slipped into the room with a smile. "Yes, Mistress, I will gather them all." She hurried out, humming under her breath.

"She's such a beautiful girl. I really enjoy her." Fanna crossed one leg daintily over the other. "My husband thinks I'm spoiled." She fluttered her long eyelashes. "Which I am." She put a finger to her full lips. "Come to think of it, Lon may think I'm a bit crazy for my habits, but he loves me all the same." She leaned back against her chair, smiling.

Roughly five minutes passed until Moon came back in the room, a group of men and women trailing behind her. They lined up as if quite used to this affair of being shown off. Jonathan noticed that they all had a similar look—uniquely beautiful in some way. He'd noticed that Moon had a crescent shaped birthmark on her neck, but also had a fairly beautiful face.

More than twenty-five humans were standing before him. One girl had hair the color of fine white silk, another had eyes the color of the sky with dark rims so that she looked like a wolf. Several of the men had outstanding eyes or uniquely handsome features. His eyes rested on a blonde girl, whose curls were softly falling around her shoulders.

Zahara! The sight of the girl made his heart start hammering in his chest. He thought he'd never see her again. She caught his eye and a pink blush spread across her cheeks.

"This is my collection of little beauties. Lon has chastised me for naming them, because it is against some ancient culture or some nonsense, but I can't help it." She pointed at each human and rattled off their names. Jonathan was fairly sure those weren't their given names from birth. She came to Zahara and fell silent for a moment. Her brow furrowed in thought. "Oh. I forgot to name this one. I'll have to think about her name." She gave a smile, paused, and turned to him.

"I hope you don't mind, but your name shall be Red." She gave a little smile. "Not all that unique, but when I look at you all I see is that beautiful hair, so Red you shall be." Fanna practically gushed as she talked, her eyes bright with excitement.

"I like the name Red." He gave her a smile as she danced in her seat. His eyes fell on Zahara.

"Oh good! Moon, dear, can you please bring me some tea, I'm parched."

Moon gave her mistress a smile and scurried away, the other humans slowly departing as well. Jonathan noticed a look of endearment on the Citizen woman's face as they all left. "A very fine collection indeed." She hummed to herself as she sat back against her chair. She caught his eye.

"Tell me, Red, were their others in your family with your unique hair?"

"My father and youngest brother."

"I'm sure your father is a fine man." She waved her foot back and forth.

"He was."

A look of sadness crossed Fanna's face for a brief moment, but it was quickly replaced with a smile. "We shall find you a position in the household soon. Moon will help me with that."

A moment passed and Moon came back in. She was carrying a tray with a teapot and several cups. She poured the tea and passed a cup first to Fanna, then to Jonathan, then herself. She sat down on another chair near them.

"Oh what a lovely girl you are." Fanna took a sip and gave a content sigh. "She makes the best tea. Moon, I was trying to decide where we should place Red."

"What skills do you have?" Moon asked him, taking a sip of her tea.

"Back home I used to hunt and prepare meals."

"Anything else?" Fanna asked, uninterested obviously with those skills.

"I can sing."

The woman's face lit up at his words. "Well, that is a surprise. Moon, perhaps he can join the evening entertainment. Put him with Fawn, Raven, and the new girl."

"Yes, Mistress." Moon took another sip of her tea. "Anything else you need?"

"Oh, you know me, Moon dear. We shall go shopping tonight!"

Moon gave a giggle. "Once you are finished with your tea, Red, I will take you to Fawn and Raven."

# Chapter 12

The soft sound of footsteps came to the door of the music room, making Fawn and Raven both pause in their musical training. Zahara watched as the door opened. Her heart thumped in her chest. When she'd first seen Jonathan sitting near Mistress and Moon, she'd wanted to run and hug him. Jonathan can sing? There he was—a little weary-looking but standing in front of her. His eyes widened at the sight of her, so that he looked like a child.

"This is Fawn, Raven, and...oh...dear..." Moon put a finger to her lips. "Our newest girl has yet to be named. Mistress may have thought of something by now. Forgive me, Red, I must ask her if she has anything in mind." The girl bolted away for a few minutes, leaving Jonathan to stand there staring at her. Out of all the households in the city what was the chance they'd ended up together? A few minutes passed and Moon came back in looking flushed.

"I have it." She grinned at all of them. "Brook. Mistress says her voice sounds like a pretty, bubbling brook."

As far as names went, it could have been worse, so Zahara smiled. Moon gave a little clap and turned around. "They will tell you what you need to do next. I bid you good luck!" Moon waved at Jonathan and walked out with a bounce. For being a slave she'd never met a more positive person in his life. Fawn looked Jonathan up and down and gave him a smile of approval. Jonathan and Zahara stared at one another for a few seconds, before Fawn cleared her throat.

"You two know each another?" She turned her head to Zahara and then Jonathan.

"We met at the warehouse," Jonathan filled in for her.

"Ah, I see," Fawn said. "We don't have time to teach you our new set today, but we will begin to instruct you for tomorrow's performance." She ushered her hand toward her companion. "Raven?" His light blue eyes were a bit unnerving as they turned to look at Jonathan.

"Copy these notes for me." The man began a series of perfect pitches, to which Jonathan mimicked back. Raven's eyebrows rose with surprise. "Very good. Again." They went through the pitches a second time, to which Jonathan followed once more. "We have ourselves a natural, Fawn. A lot like Brook here."

"Our mistress grows easily bored, so we have to mix up our performances with different styles. She also quite enjoys it when we dance. Tell me, can you dance, Brook, Red?"

Jonathan squirmed slightly. "Not sure. Haven't really been taught that."

"A little bit." Zahara waved her hand back and forth.

"Follow me." Fawn began a series of steps as Raven let out a string of notes for her. Jonathan watched closely, and Zahara figured he was memorizing the motions in his head. After she was done, Raven went through the notes again, and Jonathan danced the steps Fawn had performed.

All three of them stared at him.

"Impressive. We have ourselves a born dancer. You sure you've never danced before?" Raven's head bobbed up and down.

"Only village dancing, but those were rare where I was from." They repeated the dance and song again, and Zahara noticed that both she and Jonathan's movements smoothed out with each pass. After an hour of practicing, Fawn and Raven both grinned.

"Well done. I think you will be ready by tomorrow night for that one. You two are quick learners," Raven said.

"It's probably good to get some rest now." Fawn gave them a gentle smile. Zahara and he walked out of the room, and she felt lighter, despite everything.

"What happened to you?" she asked.

"I survived a fight with a Citizen. I should be a piece of burnt flesh, but instead here I am singing and dancing." He covered his mouth as a hysteric laugh bubbled up. Her lips twitched into a smile as well. It was rather hilarious, besides the fact that it was morbid.

They both made it to their rooms, and Zahara bid him goodnight. I can't believe he's here with me. Her room was far more luxurious and comfortable than her family's hut, but inside she was aching for the familiarity of her old surroundings. The emptiness inside was still there, but something far stronger was beginning to stir. Hope.

She ran a brush through her thick blonde hair, her blue eyes blank, staring at the wall. It had felt like a lifetime ago she was running through the woods with her little brother, Ray. I never thought it would happen to me. That I'd be a slave. That my village would get captured by those monsters. She'd always found it odd how the creatures were like humans in many ways, as if they were distorted views of humanity. The myths over time of how and when the aliens had taken over their planet were so jumbled that no one really knew what had happened.

She sat on the edge of her bed, memories rolling around in her head. Her mother's laugh. Her little brother chasing tiny field mice. Jonathan's face. She pushed him from her mind, but like a wave lapping back at the shore he returned. She climbed beneath the covers, her exhaustion catching up with her. Her head hit the pillow and the world around her faded.

# Chapter 13

"Are you sleeping?" a whispered voice spoke in Jonathan's ear. He'd been in and out of a dream-like state before rousing. He felt a presence beside his bed.

"Zahara?" More than a week had gone by, and Jonathan and she had been dedicating their time to learning songs as well as the basics of the household.

"Who else?" Her laugh was musical, and Jonathan could smell the flowery scent of her hair. "Can I lay beside you for a while?"

They both hadn't touched each other since they'd reunited, and he'd found himself aching for her before going to bed.

"Of course you can." The risk of being seen here was far less than the warehouse, but he still feared upsetting the mistress. Something far worse than the Quarry could still happen.

"I know living in this place is comfortable, but is it just me or do you still want to help end all of this?" She slipped into his bed, and his body eased against hers, hungry for her touch.

"I think about my family's faces every night. I can't ignore what's happening. No matter how nice our slavery is. It's still slavery." He put a hand on her cheek and brushed a curl. He heard her gently sigh, and she snuggled closer to him.

"I missed this. Is it weird? Is this weird?" She suddenly sat up on her elbows looking at him in the dim moonlight.

"Nah, it's not weird." He gave a chuckle under his breath. "I mean, a little weird, but I'm okay with it."

She put a hand against his bare chest. "Good. Oh. I wanted to ask you something." Her warm breath was against his cheek. "Do you like kissing?"

Jonathan's face filled with heat. She wants to kiss me? Not that he wasn't attracted to Zahara, in fact he was extremely attracted to her, but he had thought she saw him more like a brother.

"I've only kissed one girl, and she ran away from me." His body shook with light laughter. The girl, who'd kissed him, had been so shy and embarrassed she hadn't stuck around to see if he had actually enjoyed it.

"Wow. You got moves, Red."

"Shut up."

"I promise I won't run away." Her voice got breathy as she leaned over him, her hands going on either side of his face. She climbed on top of him, and his entire body hummed with the feel of her. This is going to get dangerous fast. She leaned in close, warm against his chest. Her lips gently brushed his, soft at first.

Wow. His arms wrapped around the back of her, and he kissed her back just as soft.

"That wasn't so bad now was it?" she said.

"Have I ever complained about anything you do?" He brushed a hair from her face.

"I think we may have to try that again. Hmm..." Her hands wrapped around the back of his head, fingers intertwining into his hair. She pressed her lips more passionately against his own, and his body filled with ecstasy at the touch. Images of a life they could have shared rolled around in his mind. This isn't fair to either of us. He shoved the depressive thoughts away, pulling the girl closer, letting himself get lost in her kisses. He heard her gasp softly and she pulled back.

"I'd say you enjoyed that," she teased him.

"I'd say I did." His hand gently moved down her cheek to rest against the side of her neck. "Zahara..." If they continued, more would come out of this night than either of them expected.

"I've never..." she whispered. He could tell she wanted more, but part of her wasn't allowing it.

"I haven't either." He wanted to put her at ease. He'd never touched any of the girls from his village, and he'd not been taught anything by his father. She seemed to relax at his words.

"I barely know how to kiss." Her hand rested on his cheek, and she played with his hair. "I'm kind of terrible at this whole romance thing."

"I think you're perfect." He pulled her lips to his, and again found his body reacting to her touch, her smell, the feel of her pressed up against him. She let out small gasps, until he released her.

"I wish I'd met you in my village," he told her.

"Me too. At least we would have had a few years." Her voice turned sad. "I should go back. This was..." Zahara climbed out of bed, and he immediately missed her warmth. "Nice."

He heard her walk away.

***

"There has been rumors," Moon said as she walked down the hall beside Jonathan. "Rumors that have Mistress worried about all of us." The girl's normally smiling face was strained with tension. "We all know how well Mistress treats us, and now Guardians have been investigating some strange happenings in the city. That horrible creature Jeol has been having them investigate some of the wealthy Citizens' homes about an underground facility of some kind." Moon's hands were waving in the air as she talked. "It's silly really. Mistress does enjoy the beauty of humans' gifts, but really, an underground thing? Mistress hates cold, damp places!"

Moon stopped walking for a moment and stared at Jonathan. "Anyways, Mistress wanted me to inform you, Brook, Raven, and Fawn about the upcoming party she is attending. She was asked to bring some entertainment. So tonight you four will be performing for Master Jeol. She is hoping to put that nosy creature's mind at ease." Moon did a little skip as she came to the music room. "Show us proud!"

Jonathan bid her goodbye as he walked into the room, spotting Fawn, Raven, and Zahara. He couldn't get the girl's kisses out of his head. His cheeks turned pink at the sight of her, but he prayed she didn't notice.

"Did you hear the news then?" Zahara asked as soon as he approached her. "We are performing for that creep."

"Yeah I heard."

Her eyes rested on him a moment too long, and he had a feeling she was thinking about the night before.

"We have to perform flawlessly tonight." Fawn was shuffling about the floor looking worried. "Mistress is all in a fit about this Jeol creature, and we need to make sure we show her proud."

Jonathan and Zahara exchanged a look before the four of them all began to work on their performance for the night.

# Chapter 14

The room was abuzz with Citizens smiling, drinking, and talking to one another. Dim lights flickered off blue faces, an open dance floor was dotted with dressed up tables and little bits of diamond-shaped glass for décor. A food table was against one wall and a flowing fountain of red liquid bubbled over into laughing Citizens' glasses. Zahara, Jonathan, Fawn, and Raven were standing beside a small stage awaiting their performance. Zahara had a bad feeling, like she'd eaten something bitter and couldn't get the taste out of her mouth. Jonathan looked just as nervous as she felt.

There was a hidden tension in the air, as if all the creatures in the room were on their best behavior. This creep really scares people. She saw pictures of the business alien on one of the walls, smiling with a beautiful female beside him. They almost look normal. On a separate wall was a picture of Jeol and his wife with two young children. She shuddered inside. If he's as bad as everyone says I wonder what kind of monsters he's going to raise? She brought her attention back as Fanna walked up to the stage and lifted her hands.

"I want to thank Jeol and his beautiful mate Laloa for having me here today. I count it a privilege that I was asked to bring the entertainment tonight. I hope you all enjoy my beautiful collection of singers." The golden-haired female left the stage as Zahara followed behind Jonathan, Raven, and Fawn. The room fell into silence as Fawn opened her mouth and began a beautiful melody. Raven soon joined in followed by Jonathan and finally her. When they were finished, the entire room was deadly still. All eyes were fixated on them.

I wish someone would at least cough. What's with the awkward stares? Suddenly, a burst of applause erupted from one of the tables, followed by the entire room.

"Isn't my Fawn, Raven, Red, and Brook lovely?" Fanna said, rising to her feet, applauding the loudest.

Zahara saw cold stares fall on her mistress. Fanna realized a moment too late what she'd said out loud. From what Zahara had overheard, Citizens didn't name their humans. It was considered unlawful. The golden-haired female's eyes shifted, landing on her husband beside her. "What did I say?"

"Fanna, I've told you not to name those foul creatures." Lon lay a hand on his mate's arm and pulled her slowly toward the door. "You know the laws, darling."

Zahara could hear the strain in Lon's voice, trying his best to convince the crowd of his wife's innocence.

"They are such beautiful creatures," Fanna said. "I don't see what all the fuss is about." Her pretty face turned pouty.

"There has been rumors," Jeol began, stepping forward. "Perhaps they are more than rumors." Tension filled the air. Zahara's heart hammered in her chest as she watched their mistress and master looking more and more intimidated.

"Jeol, Fanna and Lon are dear to us. Please, let's enjoy the party." The red-haired female gently touched her husband's arm. Jeol's body didn't lose its tension as he stared Fanna and Lon down. A blur of blue ran across the room, a flutter of black wings filled the air, tiny feet pattering.

"Mother? Can I drink some?" A young red-haired female alien flung herself at Jeol's wife. Zahara couldn't help but smile at the little child.

"Lila," Laloa said gently. "That is for when you're older. Go play with your brother."

The child darted away, but her presence seemed to break the stress in the air. Jeol visibly relaxed and nodded toward Fanna and Lon, but Zahara could see that this discussion wasn't over.

***

"There is something I need to show you," Zahara whispered in Jonathan's ear.

"Alright." Jonathan, Zahara, Fawn, and Raven sat in the back of a speedcar on their way home. Like splashes of color on a black canvas, the city lights blurred by as they traveled with a soft purr of the engine. Fanna and Lon were silent in the front, and Zahara could feel the tension building. Something is wrong. Our mistress and master are in danger... She wondered if the secret room had something to do with all of this. She wanted to tell Jonathan about it, but now was not the time.

"I will meet you later..." she whispered. Fawn and Raven stirred beside her, and Fawn gave Zahara a gentle smile.

"You both did so well tonight, I am sure the mistress and master are very pleased." Fawn's face softened.

"Don't fret about Jeol," Raven said in a calm voice. "This isn't the first time our mistress and master have been confronted. He doesn't agree with their business." Raven's hand rested on Fawn's shoulder, and Zahara noticed a deep affectionate look cross his features. Does he love her?

"What is their business?" Jonathan leaned forward, interlocking his fingers together.

"A substance Master creates to heal burns and wounds called Obsidian Gel. As you can see, he makes quite a profit from his invention. Jeol has gotten quite jealous of his...brother's creation. He'd do anything to get his hands on Master's ingredients."

"Raven, we don't know that Jeol is related to Master."

"Fawn, dear, they look alike."

"Again, they have never acknowledged that they are related somehow. That is all your assumptions."

"Why else would that sadistic monster constantly attack our household? He's holding a grudge at the wealth his brother carries." Raven looked between all of them. "I'm very good at reading people, darling."

Fawn gave a soft laugh. "Alright, alright, perhaps you are right and Master is Jeol's brother. If they are family, I think we are perfectly safe then."

"You've never met my brother then." Raven's eyes twinkled with laughter. "Sometimes, my dear, brothers hate one another."

Zahara listened in silence. If they are family, and Master's wealth causes such hostility, perhaps that is why there is a secret garden hidden below. But why the supplies? Her eyebrows furrowed in thought. Whatever the case, Jonathan and I need to find out.

# Chapter 15

An intimate caress woke Jonathan out of a light sleep. Whoa... A lithe form bathed in the soft glow of the moon stood before him. Instantly he was awake as the person bent over him.

"You awake?" The whisper came to his ear, Zahara's cheek resting against his own.

"I am now." Jonathan's fingers caressed the side of her face, stroking the soft skin there.

"Good..." She climbed up onto his bed, pressing him down, fingers trickling over his bare chest. Excitement rippled through him at her intimate touch. She bent down and pressed her lips against his.

Jonathan wrapped his arms around her and tucked her body close against his own. His lips traveled to her neck, and she groaned softly in his ear. Her mouth tasted sweet, her tongue gently exploring his.

"I want to try something new," she whispered. "I know we've never...but I want to..." Zahara curled her fingers around his jaw, kissing him deeper.

Jonathan's body heated up, eyes widening. It didn't take a genius to grasp what Zahara wanted. Her hands traveled down his bare chest, her lips brushing against the side of his neck. He was flooded with pleasure at her touch, her fingers slipping further and further until he let out a soft sound as she stroked him. Feather light, her fingers caressed, and pleasure washed over his body.

Something sparked inside, and he let all his guards down. I love this woman. Neither of them had spoken the words out loud, but in this moment he knew they both felt it.

Jonathan drank in Zahara's kisses. His fingers tucked around the edges of the top of her dress, and he gently eased it off her shoulders. Trickling his touches down the front of her, he heard her gasp in response.

"I love you, Zahara." The words slipped out as he continued to kiss her, loving the sounds she was making.

"I love you too." Her hands caressed against him, and tiny tingles swept his entire body. The door handle suddenly wiggled, and Jonathan and Zahara both gasped quietly.

"Get down," he told her. She ducked her head beneath the blankets, giggling lightly. The door handle stopped moving, and whoever was there must have realized they had the wrong room.

Jonathan heaved a sigh of relief, then grinned as Zahara's fingers traveled to the inside of his thighs. She popped her head back out from beneath the covers and grinned at him.

"I have an idea, if you're up for it..."

"Yeah?" He chuckled as she kissed the side of his neck.

"I found a place..." Zahara climbed out of bed and pulled up her straps.

"Whoa...okay." He clambered to the floor, laughing as with a grin she grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the door. Zahara put a finger to her lips as she stuck her head out to see if the coast was clear. He enjoyed watching her, loving how she was still grasping tight to his hand. Finally she gave a nod and slipped out the door.

They made their way down the hallway, Zahara keeping a careful watch.

Where are we going?

Zahara finally came to a stop in front of the music room. She turned to him briefly, winked, and opened the door.

"This is going to be fun," she said with a grin. Jonathan's entire body buzzed with heat as she pulled him inside.

"Are we going to sing as we...?" He chuckled under his breath.

"Something like that." She grinned.

Zahara made her way over to one of the statues and grabbed the arm of the figurine. She gave it a tug. Jonathan watched in shock as the wall gave way and an entryway formed. What's this?

Zahara motioned with her hand, and the two of them quietly headed inside. The moment they stepped in, Jonathan could hear a soft humming noise. The door slid shut with a hiss.

"How do we get out?" he whispered to her.

"It's fine." She grabbed his arm and pulled him forward. With a laugh she ran down the hallway, tugging at him to move faster.

"Where are we going?" he said.

"Just wait." Zahara came to the end of the hall, and with a heavy push, turned the handle and opened the door.

A mixture of smells overpowered him as they entered the room. Wow this is beautiful. Jonathan's eyes widened at the sight of a colorful garden.

"Come on, a little further." She tugged on his arm with a teasing smile. Her fingers caressed his chest, making his body stir.

Zahara approached a stream of vines dangling down from the ceiling. "This way." She swished through the vines, a sensual smile on her lips. Jonathan hurried through after her, loving how playful she was being. He gasped at the beauty of the colors, stream, plants, and figures.

Zahara grasped the sides of his face, kissing him long and hard, sending excitement racing through his blood. She gasped for air, looking up into his eyes a brief moment. He reacted back, coaxing her shoulder straps off, running his fingers down the front of her soft skin, loving the way she groaned in response.

Zahara caressed his muscled chest, feeling down until she rested her touch between his thighs.

"I love you, Red," she whispered. "I want to be with you."

Heat pumped through him at her intimate touch, and he pulled her into a long kiss, making her gasp. He loosened the rest of her dress, and it fell to the ground with a ripple. They kissed deeply, losing reality around them, all the world standing still at their passion. Zahara groaned as he rubbed down the front of her, loving how soft her skin felt beneath him.

Jonathan scooped her up into his arms, his mouth exploring hers with a gentle touch. He put her down on the canopy bed, brushing his knuckles against the side of her face.

"You are beautiful." His eyes drank in the sight of her bare body, in wonder that this gorgeous woman was in love with him. She grinned at him suddenly, removing the rest of his clothes so that he hovered above her bare.

Zahara caressed him, and spirals of pleasure swept over his body. He lay on his side, pulling her tight against him, so that there was no more space between them. They fit together naturally, and Jonathan's heart hammered at the pleasure of this beautiful woman. He drew her in for another kiss, as music between them continued to build. With pleasured gasps they cried as beneath the canopy of vines and flowers they became one.

Jonathan gently brushed Zahara's face as she lay curled up against him. He'd never known someone could make him feel so loved and wanted as this woman. Her body fit perfectly with his as if they'd been created as one. God, please let me protect this woman. The ritual of marriage played through his mind—it wasn't as if he and Zahara could be married the traditional way, but in the sight of God they'd joined together. He'd need to wake her soon, but the feel of her soft skin against his was too satisfying to let go of at the moment.

God, what can I do to save us all? Images played around in his mind. His village. His family. The warehouse. No matter how amazing he felt, he couldn't forget the driving purpose deep inside of him. He knew Zahara felt it too. He wanted to be free to have a family with this beautiful, amazing woman laying curled up against him.

"Jonathan?" Zahara stirred, tipping her head up and kissing his chin. "Did you enjoy that?"

"Is that even a question?" he said with a laugh.

"I'm a bit sore, but that was the most amazing moment of my entire life. And I'm not trying to be cheesy about saying that."

"You're sore?" He gently touched her, feeling concerned.

"I was a virgin, genius." She kissed his neck.

"Right." He gave a soft sigh. "Zahara?"

She snuggled up against him, and his heart melted. "Yeah?"

"I meant it."

"What?" she asked.

"What I said. I love you."

"I meant it too." She eased away and turned over to look at him. A few seconds passed before she grinned at him. "You smell like the mush they used to feed us."

"Oh my god, you're so bad." He gave her a little shove, and she fell onto her back with a soft laugh.

"Red, you know I have to tease you. It's my job." She scrambled from the bed. "We should probably get out of here."

He climbed across the bed and got to his feet. He pulled her as tight as possible and kissed her more passionately than he'd ever kissed her before. It left her breathless.

"My god you're amazing." She stroked his face.

He gently touched her bare body, lingering his fingers for a long moment. "I want you to know I will always protect you. I promise."

"I know." Zahara stared deep into his eyes.

***

Her laugh. It was something that he could listen to all day. Jonathan found himself sneaking glances at Zahara. He caught her gaze back, and it made him smile. What had happened last night had changed something in the both of them. We can't fall in love. This is crazy. He knew the rules—they couldn't procreate, they couldn't fall in love. But how could he not? It was like telling himself to stop breathing. It was unnatural to not love this girl. She was tough. She was beautiful.

He stood in the music room with Zahara learning a new song. He couldn't bring himself to call the blonde girl the Citizen-given name, but for some reason the name Red was beginning to stick in his head. More and likely because it was Zahara who'd first given it to him.

"Earth to, Red, are you listening?" Zahara waved her hand in front of his face, her blonde curls neatly arrayed today.

"Oh...sorry." He laughed at himself, the sweet smell wafting off Zahara distracting him.

"Did you hear the melody I just sang?"

"What?" He looked over at her to see her grinning.

"The melody. I made it up. What do you think?" she said the words slowly as if he was hard of hearing or a bit dense. Jonathan found his face heating up. His mind had got caught up in the way Zahara moved when she sang—not so much the song itself.

"Sorry." He dipped his head down, an embarrassed smile on his face. "Didn't hear anything."

Instead of getting mad at him she just laughed it off. "It's okay. I'll sing it again." She began a fast tune, her words streaming from her mouth in beautiful arcs. At the end, Jonathan had a hard time breathing. What was it about this girl that made him feel like he was losing his mind? She was staring at him again as if saying were you listening now?

She laughed at him. "Where's your head today?"

He gave her a smile back. "Let's see if I remembered anything." He sang the song back to her. She crossed her arms looking rather impressed with him.

"Not half bad for someone who can't sing."

"Oh, I can't sing can I?" He lightly shoved her, making her wobble to the side. She shoved him back.

"You're awful. I mean that pitch...eech..." She made a face at him.

"La la la." He went off-key on purpose making Zahara cover her ears and shake her head.

"You need to get out." She pointed to the door, her blue eyes sparkling. He dropped his head and mockingly walked toward the door. He could hear her giggling behind him. He paused and looked over his shoulder with a grin.

Suddenly, a sharp pound came to the door.

A rush of air swept the room as a Guardian flooded the area, his wings extended. Jonathan's first concern was for Zahara, who was standing frozen, the smile now wiped off her face. Everything within him was urging him to grab the girl and run somewhere safe.

"What's going on?" he managed to say. The creature just gave him a bored look as he moved about the room.

"There has been suspicions that this household is hoarding a hidden safe haven for humans. We have been ordered to search the place." The male Citizen moved about, checking corners and scattering some of Mistress's finery.

"Get out! Who gave you orders to come into my home?" Fanna stepped through the door, her face twisted with displeasure.

"Jeol."

Her face lost color at the name. Two more Guardians came into the room and began to cover every inch of it. By the end of their destruction, Fanna was fuming.

"You're destroying my home! I hope Jeol is paying to have it all replaced!" She stomped her foot, her blonde curls a mess at her distress. After a few more minutes of searching, they moved on, Fanna following behind them still shouting at them. Jonathan exchanged a look with Zahara.

# Chapter 16

The room felt drained of air. Zahara watched their mistress leave, but the sense of dread she felt when the Guardians came into the room hadn't left her. She had a bad feeling they'd be back. What if they discover the hidden rooms? What will they do to Mistress? The thought shook her. Despite the fact that she was a slave, she was thankful that it was to this Citizen woman. She'd been treated kindly here and allowed to sing. There could have been worse ways to be living in slavery. Jonathan looked at her, and she had a feeling he was thinking the same thing she was.

"We need to get out of here now," he said, putting a hand on her back. "What about that secret tunnel?"

Zahara's eyes fell to the statue. Without another thought, she ran over to it and pulled the arm. He was right behind her. Zahara's heart sped up as the entryway formed. Hurry...

They crossed through, urging the door to shut silently.

"Is there an exit? I never checked," Zahara whispered to Jonathan.

"There must be a way they deliver these supplies. Come on." Jonathan came to the first room and started packing a small satchel of food, a blanket, and a jug of water. Zahara picked up a bag of her own and filled it with supplies as well.

"Jonathan, I saw something, I forgot to tell you about it..." Zahara's voice wavered. "I think...Master has a creature he's making the ointment from."

"What?" Jonathan sounded distracted as he finished packing, loaded the bag onto his back, and ushered her out the door and into the hall. "Tell me all about it later. We gotta get out of here."

Their footsteps echoed down the long hall as they ran. They came to the final room, and Zahara turned to look at Jonathan. She pulled him into a fierce kiss, her eyes searching his. "I love you, remember that."

Jonathan gave her a quick smile, but Zahara could see lingering worry. "Let's get somewhere safe." His eyes rested on the end of the hall, his brows furrowing in thought. "Maybe there's another lever like the one in the music room. Check around." His hands ran over the walls.

"I used to hear Moon hum something all the time." Zahara sucked in a deep breath, urging her mind to remember the gentle tune. She let out the string of notes, humming them under her breath.

Jonathan grinned as a low thrum filled the hallway. The wall gave way and slid to one side, a long, dark tunnel leading out. "Zahara, you are a genius!" He gave her a quick kiss, grabbed her hand, and they ran.

Zahara could hear whirling noises above them, as if they were under the streets of Cathrach somehow. When they reached the very end a door loomed before them.

"Let me scout ahead, you stay here." Jonathan kissed her again, opened the door, and slipped outside. Zahara's heart pounded louder and louder as she waited for him. She could hear rustling noises up above her, Guardians tearing their home apart. What do they want? Her mind drifted back to the creature in the garden locked up tight. Is that what Jeol wants? That...thing?

Something banged down the hall, startling her. Hurry, Jonathan! A mixture of emotions played inside her. She had started to enjoy her life in their mistress's home. Once we're free then what? Do we try to run back to our old villages? The thought of that made her stomach churn. They'd never make it that far—plus there was nothing to run back to. Water from a pipe dripped on her face, and she wiped it off with the back of her hand. An echo of voices bounced off the walls, and a wave of fear hit her. I have to get out of here! I can't wait for him.

Zahara slid the door open, cautiously looking, before going through, heart pounding loud in her ears. Where did he go? She quickly shut the door behind her, but dread filled her gut. Something is really, really wrong. The city was a tangled web before her, speedcars, noises, dark alleys with deep shadows making the breath catch in her throat. If I leave here, he'll never find me again. She tucked herself up against the side of the wall, feeling exposed even in the dim light of the streetlamps.

A dull thump sounded behind her. The door! She bolted forward, feet desperately eating up the ground as she ran.

"STOP!" The door was open behind her, and she could hear the flutter of wings.

Sizzzz!

Something hot struck her back leg. "Ah!" Her leg buckled as the pain ran through her thigh. "Jonathan!" She stumbled as another pain hit her other leg, sending her tumbling to the pavement. Rocks dug into the palms of her hands, and she felt the heat of blood as her face struck the ground. Her eyes fluttered once. Cold hands gripped her arms and dragged her to her feet.

"I remember this little princess. I'll take care of her." A twisted smile filled Moy's face as he threw Zahara over his shoulder, half conscious.

# Chapter 17

Jonathan's chest burned like fire as he ran, trying to find a clear path for him and Zahara. A sudden thought struck him. I need to get back. I've been gone too long. He turned around, replaying his exact steps toward the hidden exit. A cold dread coiled through his stomach. Something's wrong. Jonathan pressed his body up against the alleyway across from the door. Can I get back in? Suddenly, he noticed something spilled across the street—Zahara's bag.

Zahara! He drew in some breaths to steady himself. How could I have left her behind like that? Anger boiled inside until his face grew hot. What kind of a man am I? He was about to leap out of the shadows to go find her, when something grabbed him by the arm and yanked him back.

"They are out there looking for you," a soft voice said. A young man stood inside a rundown shop, his face covered by a hood. "Come."

Jonathan looked toward the hidden door then back. He hesitated a moment then stepped inside the shop.

"I saw her get taken," the hooded man said in a harsh whisper. "There is nothing you can do now. I couldn't reach her in time before they grabbed her. I'm sorry."

Jonathan's stomach churned at the thought of Zahara in the hands of those monsters. What will they do to her?

"The Guardians have arrested Lon and Fanna, there is no going back." The young man sounded sad as he looked toward the direction of the hidden tunnel. "If you wait, we can retrieve the girl. But you must be patient." The lowness of the man's voice held surety as if he'd done this many, many times. "Come with me now." The young man faded into the shadows of the shop. Jonathan stood there for a moment. Stunned. Who is this? Something inside of him told him to follow. He took a deep breath and stepped into the shadows. The man's form was barely visible as he walked to the back of the shop. He carefully pulled back a bookshelf to one side where a door was waiting. He opened it and slipped inside, waiting for Jonathan. Jonathan noticed a rope that the young man pulled, putting the shelf carefully back in place before shutting the door. A flight of stairs lay before him.

Once they were down it, a shadowed alley stretched away, small torches along the walls to light the passage.

"I'm Quint."

Jonathan paused for a moment then said, "I'm Red." For some reason keeping the name Zahara gave him filled him with determination that he'd find her again. They came to a door, and Quint led him down another flight of stairs. The air grew colder the further down they went. A soft plinking sound came to Jonathan's ears, water hitting old pipes. At the bottom of the stairs there was a tunnel, shadowed again by the few torches that were held in place on the wall. Once they reached the end, an ancient looking metal box hooked up to some strong cables lay before them.

"Get in. It's safe." Quint ushered him inside, and slowly the cable car moved downward until it reached the bottom. They got out a moment later and headed down another hall until they reached a door that read: maintenance. Quint pushed open the door. A mixture of voices rose around Jonathan as he stepped through. His eyes widened as he took it all in. People lived down here? Large pipes were above his head, and he could smell the faint stench of waste.

"Welcome, to our home," Quint said, pushing back his hood and revealing a very young face. His eyes were nearly black, his skin a shade of blue. Jonathan nearly gasped. What is this kid?

"Everyone has that reaction, it's okay." He gave a laugh. The sound filled the room. "You're safe here." Quint ushered his hand out to the crowd around him. Jonathan saw many different types of faces, but the blue skin of some of the people made him pause.

"What are they?" he whispered more to himself than Quint. Quint was staring at him, amused at his reaction.

"You've never seen a Halfsie before have you?"

"Halfsie?" Jonathan couldn't help but stare at the mixture of people who looked happy.

"Listen." Quint put a hand on his arm. "I'll show you." The young man removed his hooded jacket and set it on a nearby bench. He removed another layer of clothing, and Jonathan watched as a pair of black, leathery wings unfolded from the boy's back. He tried not to let his panic show, but he knew the color was draining from his face. Suddenly it struck him. A Halfsie. Half human. Half Citizen.

The boy stretched his wings out and shook them as if letting them air out. He turned toward Jonathan, looking at him with that amused smile again. "Get it now?"

"Yah." Jonathan was still a bit afraid of the boy, but by the looks of things there was a mixture of these Halfsies along with humans. No one was looking at Quint in fear, or any of the other creatures for that matter. "How?"

Quint gave a laugh again. "I don't think I need to explain how that works do I?" He tucked his wings back and donned his clothing again.

"No...I guess not. I just didn't know..." Jonathan was still trying to get over the fact that this place even existed. It was exactly what those Guardians had been talking about. An underground hideaway for humans to exist. "Why don't you guys go back to the wild?"

"Some find this haven safer than being exposed where Human Co can capture their families all over again. The wild isn't safe for children. But, we've build up a system here. It's dangerous, but we manage to survive. We have those who supply us with resources."

Jonathan's mind went to Fanna. "So Fanna and Lon were part of this? Why would they risk their lives for humans?" He thought of the bubbly Citizen who loved the beauty of the human soul.

"She and her husband have helped us for many years—not all Citizens crave power. They were kindhearted toward us." He stared at Jonathan. "I'm sorry about the both of them, and I'm sorry about the girl." Quint's face filled with worry. "They will hurt her—possibly kill her."

Jonathan's fists curled. "I'll find her."

"I know the Guardian that took her..." Quint's face filled with several emotions. After a pause he said, "It's my father."

# Chapter 18

Sharp heat rippled up and down Zahara's arm as she grasped the reality around her. She could hear voices intermixed in the atmosphere but couldn't seem to make out any of the words. A muffled cry resounded, but she couldn't tell from what direction it had come. Why did she feel so groggy? She forced her eyelids open only to want to shut them all over again.

"Look, one of my little beauties is awake," a cold voice said. She shifted and pain went down both her legs. Oh...yeah...I was struck down. Her mind went to Jonathan. Did he get away? If so, where is he? She felt a sense of betrayal that he'd left her behind. He was coming back, Zahara. She bit her bottom lip, straining against whatever was holding her in place. She looked up to see the Guardian that had struck her down grinning at her. Moy. Of course.

"Good morning, princess. Did you have fun last night?"

Zahara suddenly got a grasp on where she was. It looked like an apartment of some kind. There was hardly any lights on, so that the Guardian was barely lit up, his white smile taking on an eerie glow. She noticed several other girls were tied up off to the side. They were staring at her with blank expressions, as if someone had forgotten to give them personalities. A dead weight sat in her stomach. She'd seen that look before, back home something had happened to one of the girls, and for months she'd walked around in a dead state. She sharply turned toward the monster who was now looking at her as if she was something to eat.

"I like a girl with...spirit." Moy didn't move closer, but Zahara felt the air from her lungs leaving. "I like a girl who fights a little bit."

Zahara yanked her arms and realized she was tied to the bed. A small whimper escaped another girl's mouth. Three more sat beside her in the corner. Something in Zahara snapped. The big Citizen's smile. The girl's whimper. Her brother's face as he died. It all built into a ball of rage inside of her. One thing her father had taught her over the years was how to tie and untie a knot. Moy walked away from her, distracted by the other girls.

Zahara began to twist her hand back and forth, gently as to not cause too much attention to herself. The ropes slacked a bit.

"Oh, don't worry, you'll get your turn again, sweetheart," the alien said to the whimpering girl. He touched her chin with his webbed hand. The girl let out a sob. During that time Zahara had gotten one hand free. This creature was an idiot and couldn't tie a knot. She maneuvered her other hand as quick as possible. She had but mere moments to get free. Pain went down her legs again, but she ignored it, continuing to wriggle her hand until the second came loose. A small triumphant feeling filled her. Her legs were also tied, and that was going to be a lot harder to get free in a matter of seconds.

The Guardian turned his attention back to her and let out a scoff.

"Wow. I'm impressed. Most just lay there and take it like a dog. I'm going to have fun with you." He was over to her in seconds, but she moved quick and got a punch to his groin. The creature let out a howl, backing away from her, his face filled with pain. She made quick work of freeing one foot, then the other, as Moy hopped and howled. She scrambled to her feet, running toward the exit.

"You're going to die!" A lightning bolt struck the door, bits and pieces of wood flying in all directions. A loud growl came from the alien's mouth as he got his footing back. She yanked open the door, her feet slipping as she ran. Luckily the apartment was on the first floor. Her legs were screaming from the burns she'd received, but she pushed through any pain, forcing herself to move faster than she'd ever moved before. The roar of the creature behind her shook the hallway. The front door loomed before her as if a hand reaching out. She flung it open and ran as fast as she could.

# Chapter 19

Jonathan and Quint pressed their backs up against an alleyway, shadows hiding them from sight. Jonathan heard the roar of a Citizen and saw a streak moving from where Quint had led him.

"That's his place," Quint whispered. Someone was moving quickly away from the building—at a manic speed.

"Oh my god, I think that's Zahara." Jonathan saw a flash of blonde hair.

"Alright, we got to grab her before he catches her." Quint's hood hid his expression, but Jonathan could feel his urgency. "She's headed in the wrong direction. He'll corner her that way."

The Guardian was a mess as he came out the door. Moy. Why is it always Moy? The alien's face was filled with pain as his wings unfurled around him. Quint looked at the Citizen.

"I'll distract Ugly. Follow her, but then head the opposite way toward the shop." Quint was already moving toward the Guardian. Jonathan was a bit in awe of the young man's speed. As soon as the Guardian saw him he did a double take. A low growl escaped the creature's mouth.

"Hey! Stop!"

Obviously, Quint had a reputation amongst the Guardians, enough to make the creature forget about Zahara for a moment. Jonathan moved. His feet ate up the pavement as he darted towards her. He could hear the stir of wings as he caught up to the girl in a few moments. She was panting hard, her body stiff as she realized the direction she was going was a dead end. She turned around.

"Jon...athan..." she panted, her blue eyes huge. She raced into his arms, throwing herself at him, nearly knocking him off his feet.

"Come on. We need to go. Now." He grabbed her hand and raced the opposite way, taking her between buildings and shops like Quint had done on the way there. He wasn't sure what was happening with the young Halfsie, but he knew the kid could take care of himself. He paused for a moment so they could catch their breath.

"Where are we going?" Fear was etched in Zahara's voice.

"Trust me." He ushered her forward again, holding her hand as they continued their dash. They got to the old shop building and he led her inside.

"What is this?"

"Trust me, Zahara." He pulled her into the shadows to wait for Quint. The young man knew each turn by heart to make it to where they needed to go. He prayed the kid would make it back safely.

After ten minutes, they heard the soft rustle of clothing, and a shadow slipped into the room. A hooded figure stood before them.

"Come on. Ugly is as stupid as he looks." Quint led them to the door.

"What is going on? Where are we going?" Zahara cast Jonathan an uncertain look.

"Someplace safe. Trust me."

They made their way down the stairs. Jonathan went into the cable car first to show her it was safe. Quint followed and finally Zahara piled in behind them. The ride down was silent, and Jonathan could sense something was wrong with the blonde girl. She was trembling.

"You alright?" He began to put an arm around her when she flinched.

"I don't know. I feel...funny."

Quint turned to look at her, but Jonathan couldn't read his face beneath the hood. They made it to the bottom. The young Halfsie opened the door that led them into the underground refuge. Zahara gasped.

"Oh god..." Her hands flung up to her mouth, and he could hear the emotion in her voice. "What is this place?"

"It's a safe haven." Quint finally lowered his hood, which made Zahara jump back in fright. "It's alright. I won't hurt you. I'm not one of them."

"What are you then?" Her face was pale, and Jonathan saw she was still shaking. He grabbed her hand, hoping that would help her calm down. She barely noticed it.

"I'm half Citizen half human. My mother was raped by a Guardian." His face took on a hard look. "The same Guardian that..." He looked her in the eyes, and Jonathan saw Zahara's face crumple. His heart shattered in his chest. Did that thing hurt her?

# Chapter 20

It all flooded back to Zahara. She had thought she'd escaped without Moy hurting her, but suddenly she remembered it all. She'd been half awake, drugged. That thing had done something to her. Her body was sore, aching. She'd thought it had been the burns from her legs, but that was not what it was. Everything ached. A sob rose in her throat at the thought of that creature defiling her like that. He was about to...do it again when she'd fully come to. Her body was remembering the trauma. Vomit rose up her throat, and she heaved any food that was in her stomach onto the floor. Once. Twice.

"Oh my...god...oh my god..." She covered her face with her hands, sobs raking over her. She felt arms encircle her, but all she felt was pain. That thing had... She pushed Jonathan away and puked again.

"Zahara," Jonathan spoke in a gentle voice. "Tell me, what's going on."

"I thought I got away. I thought he didn't...oh god..." She wiped her mouth, but her entire body was still retching. Jonathan didn't say anything, but she saw his extreme anger. She looked up at him, tears pooling in her eyes. "I'd been knocked out...drugged...but that didn't matter. I remember some of it now."

Jonathan turned around, his fist driving into the wall. He let out a groan of anger. Quint stood beside them both, his eyes full of empathy.

"Please, come with me to my mother. She'll know what to do."

Zahara numbly followed behind the Halfsie, her body felt like someone had pulled it in several directions. Jonathan was a stone beside her, but she knew he was hurting. His head dipped downward, like he was fighting off tears. They got to a little area of the huge room, where an older brunette was sitting with a young girl.

"Mother?" Quint didn't have to say anything more. The woman rose to her feet and came over to Zahara. She put a hand on her cheek and made a soft shushing noise.

"I know what to do. Please...sit beside Mari and me. We shall talk."

Jonathan threw Zahara a look as if he didn't want to let her from his sight. She gave a small nod to him, and he frowned.

"She will be fine. Just for a few minutes we shall talk." The woman put a gentle hand on Zahara's arm.

"Okay. I'll be right over there." Jonathan pointed to an area where a few men sat.

"Okay." Zahara wasn't sure what to feel right now. The memories that were dancing around in her mind were terrifying.

"Please sit, sweetheart," the woman said. "I'm Lil and this is Mari. I want you to know that it gets better. I promise." She smiled at them, and Zahara could see her beauty in her smile. Her mother's face flashed before her, and a sob rose up her throat. I wish you were here, Mother.

"Oh, sweetie, what's your name?"

"Zahara."

"Zahara, would you like to tell me and Mari what happened to you?"

Zahara recalled as much as she could about the event, the escape, and finally how she'd ended up here.

"Tell me, is your stomach feeling like there's needles in it?" The woman's face grew very serious. Zahara slowly nodded.

"Oh..." Lil let out a soft sigh, her eyes looking sad. "Alright. Please don't fear. I will take good care of you and help you give birth. Alright? Don't panic."

"Birth?" Zahara's head began to spin. Her stomach knotted even more, until she felt she was going to vomit again.

"Sweetheart, if you feel the needles, you are pregnant. But don't worry, Mari is too. We will face this together, girls. Halfsies are beautiful. Look at my son." She pointed to Quint who was standing beside Jonathan. Zahara's mind was numb. She was pregnant. Up until the other day everything had seemed fairly normal. She'd almost been happy, and now this woman was telling her she was pregnant from that monster?

"I...I...can't..." She stood to her feet, shaking her head.

"It's going to be okay. Sit down. I'll explain everything." Lil grabbed her hand and gently pulled her down beside her. "Please...please sit."

Zahara allowed the woman to sit her back down. She found her eyes resting on Jonathan again. What would he say? I wish it was his baby. The thought made tears come to her eyes. She felt dirty. Used. The woman rubbed her back in small circles.

"It's going to be alright. The negative feelings will pass eventually. A Halfsie child is a blessing, despite the pain of its conception. They are a joy. I know it doesn't feel it now, but it will. It will." The woman's voice was soothing, and Zahara found herself wanting to hear it more. Mari grasped Lil's hand and then held Zahara's in her other.

"We can do this together." The younger girl's eyes locked onto Zahara's. "Up there...they would have killed us and our baby. My master loved me enough to free me. He didn't want me or our child destroyed."

Zahara's eyes were wide with unbelief. "Your master loved you?" She didn't think those creatures could love.

After another hour of talking to both women, Jonathan came over to her.

"Are you alright?" He put a hand carefully on her back. This time she didn't flinch, but her stomach fluttered.

"I'm pregnant, Red. That thing..." She pulled her face away, and a soft sob escaped her throat. She felt Jonathan's distress, but he didn't say anything.

"Can I please hold you? Just for a few moments? Please." His voice broke.

"Okay." She sagged into his arms, feeling weak, but not caring as his warm embrace encircled her. His body shook lightly, and she knew he was crying.

"I'm so sorry, Zahara, I should have taken you with me right away." He pulled her back and looked at her face. Tears trickled down her cheeks.

"It's okay. I forgive you, Red."

He pulled her back into his arms for another long while. Her fears subsided, and his soothing presence made her relax.

"Do you think there is still hope to save the human race?" she whispered into his chest. He smoothed her hair from her face.

"There is always hope."

"I'm going to have a Halfsie."

Jonathan's face displayed a mixture of emotions. He put a gentle hand on her stomach, and her mouth twitched lightly.

"Maybe it is he who will save us all."

"He?" She was trying to breathe at the gentleness of the man's touch.

"Yes, he." He pulled her back into his arms.

***

Zahara woke up screaming. Arms instantly went around her, tucking her close.

"It's okay, it's okay, I'm here," Jonathan's voice whispered in her ear. The memories kept returning stronger and stronger with time. Zahara lay a hand on her belly, feeling movement inside. Lips pressed up against her neck, and the warmth of the man she loved filled her.

"When will those stop?" Frustration seeped into her voice.

"I don't know."

"Do you believe in the prophesy, Red?" Her hand searched for his face and rested there. He pressed his own hand against hers.

"Yes."

"You really think my baby will help save us?" A heartbeat passed at the question.

"Yes."

A little thump hit inside her. "Feel this." She put his hand on her stomach.

"That's amazing." Jonathan breathed against her neck. He gently rubbed her stomach, the touch soothing.

They'd been sleeping together for the past three months, and slowly Zahara had lost most of her fears. But these dreams...and I ache for his touch...more than anything. She'd been trying for a while to be intimate with Jonathan, but every time she did she'd start feeling sick inside and they'd stop.

"Jonathan?" she whispered.

"Yes?" He held her close to him.

"I want to try again..."

She heard his intake of breath.

"Don't push it, Zahara. I can't stand to see you hurt. I'm fine, really."

"I know..." She turned over to be facing him, his mouth inches from hers. "I want to. Please." She pulled his lips to her own and filled the kiss with the love she felt.

"Wow. You definitely know how to win an argument."

"There's more where that came from, Red."

He gave a soft laugh at her words. "Are you sure, Zahara?" He was trembling at her passion. Without giving him another chance, she ran her hands down his chest, stroking his bare skin. He let out a pleasured gasp and kissed her again. With a bit of desperation, he removed her clothes his fingers gently touching her. He paused for a moment. "Are you alright?"

Her own hands removed anything that stood between them, pressing her body against his.

"Does that answer your question?" she said. He flipped her over onto her back, stroking every part of her body until only pleasure filled her. The world faded away. There was only them. Only this moment. Every other fear sifted away. Whatever she faced, he'd be there. Jonathan's mouth enclosed over hers, his hands so soft against her that she wanted to cry. How did I get a man to love me like this? She thought of her parents, the love she'd always seen between them, and it finally hit her. It wasn't that they were cowards. They couldn't live without one another. Tingles swept through her as Jonathan pressed himself against her. She finally understood as she let out a gasp of pleasure.

"I wanted to tell you something, Zahara."

"Yeah?" She snuggled closer to him, filled with waves of satisfaction.

"Quint is going to train me to help him rescue slaves."

Zahara fell silent. What if he's caught? What if he dies? The thought of losing him made her stomach clench.

"What if they..." She didn't finish the sentence, not wanting to say the words out loud.

"I have to do something to help."

"I know you do." She put his hand back on her swollen stomach. "Please wait. At least until the baby is born. Please?"

He let out a soft sigh. "For you I'd do anything. I'll wait." He kissed her neck.

# Chapter 21

A scream ricocheted off the walls. Jonathan firmly grasped Zahara's hand in his own, praying under his breath. Mari and Lil were down below as Zahara screamed again, sweat dripping down her temple. He took a cloth and dabbed at her face.

"You're doing great. Now PUSH!" Lil coached. Zahara's hand tightened on his so that he winced. The girl has a grip on her.

Zahara and he had grown extremely close—he couldn't imagine life without her. He had kept his promise and was waiting to go out with Quint to rescue humans. Jonathan pressed a kiss to Zahara's forehead.

"Come on, sweetheart, you're doing just fine. A little more." Hopefully this little one comes soon, or I won't have any feeling left in my hand.

"I see the head, come on, Zahara!" Lil said. Zahara groaned, her body shaking.

"A little more, come on," he said. Zahara let out another scream, and Jonathan saw something slip into Lil's hands. He'd been there when his mother had given birth to his brothers, but this was far different. A gush of water and blood came out and what looked like a bundle of black leather. Mari let out a little yelp of excitement as Lil unfurled the child and cleaned out the baby's mouth.

"A beautiful boy." Lil handed the small bundle back up to Zahara. Jonathan saw her face completely change from one of distress to complete love.

"Oh...wow...he's...beautiful." She stroked the tiny Halfsie's face. Jonathan saw that it really didn't matter what the baby was, he was still loved. He saw Quint standing nearby and gave the kid a smile.

"What's his name, Zahara?" Mari asked with a gentle look at both mother and child.

"Ki." Zahara stroked the baby's face. "And he will help deliver us all." She kissed the light blue face, dark hair matted to his head. Jonathan leaned down and kissed the child next.

"What do you think, Red?" she whispered.

"He's beautiful. Just like his mother."

Zahara smiled up at him, running her finger down the baby's face. "He's smart. Look at how he's already looking around the room."

Lil placed a blanket over the top of Zahara and Ki, her face all smiles. "You did it." She leaned over and kissed both mother and child. "And congratulations to a proud papa." Lil gently touched Jonathan's arm. "Treat her and Ki well, Red." She kissed Jonathan's forehead.

"I will."
Epilogue

The room was shadowed in dancing lights as Ki made his way over to his work table. Stretched out before him was a glistening black material, copper symbols intertwined into it. Muffled voices were in the background. Humans and Halfsies interacted just beyond the walls of the small room he'd sanctioned off for himself. His mind spun with the possibilities that were unfolding in front of him. Books were piled in one corner, chalk marking the wall with numbers and letters.

His webbed fingers touched the black material lovingly, his eyes glistening with hope. Tubes of liquid were on a table beside him—papers with formulas piled on top of one another.

"One day," he whispered to the material. "One day you will save us all."

# Chapter 1

Cold laughter jerked Lend into reality. He struggled to open his eyes, but only suffocating darkness met his gaze. A series of strangled cries nearly pulled his heart from his chest.

Bree! He tried to rise, but something held him down. Air was punched from his lungs at the sound of his little sister's torment.

"Scream, little girl," an eerie, disembodied voice said from somewhere in the darkness. Something cold brushed up against Lend's arm—a form moving forward. A blue flame sizzled, lighting up the face of a creature. He was seven foot tall, blue-skinned, webbed fingers and toes, pointed ears, and black wings that choked the small space around them. The alien danced his flames in front of Bree's face, and Lend could see her chest rising and falling in panic.

"Get away from her!"

The thing turned his cruel eyes on him, a maniacal smile spreading.

"Be patient, I'm coming for you next." The creature's wings unfolded wider, blocking out the sight of Bree's terrified expression. He snaked a hand around her throat and lifted her two feet off the ground.

"Scream," hissed the alien's voice with twisted pleasure.

Bree whimpered, and Lend yanked on his restraints. Why can't I break free? His muscles burned.

"Lend," Bree choked, her body flailing under the grip of the creature.

"Hang on!" With a bestial groan, he struggled to free himself once more. "I'm coming!"

Snap!

Lend watched in horror as the creature broke his sister's neck. A wail escaped from his throat as she fell limp in the monster's hand.

Tears and sweat blinded Lend as he jolted awake. It's just a dream. Just a dream. His head turned in frantic motions about the hut, searching for his younger sister. She's alright. His dreams had been haunted for weeks now, and every time the ancient prophesy would rise up in his mind.

There will be one. One who rises above them all. A man of valor and great strength who will free us from the fall... Lend scrubbed his hands down his face, his muscles trembling from the terror he'd seen in the unconscious parts of his mind. Why do I keep having these dreams, and why do I always think of that prophesy? His mother had recited it to him over and over, until his mind dwelled on it like an imprint on his soul.

Lend forced himself out of bed, walked over to Bree, and kissed her forehead, brushing back her hair from her face. Please, God, don't let anything happen to her. He drew in a deep breath and went out the door of the hut.

The morning air was crisp, dew cold against his bare feet, the sun casting orange streaks across the sky. Citizens won't find us. We've been hidden here for years. After every nightmare, he'd always reassure himself that their village was safe. I have nothing to worry about.

Later that morning, Lend sat near the fire listening to his mother hum a gentle tune. He sharpened his knife on a stone as he sat. Bree stirred the stew, her small frame swaying to and fro to the music. Lend tried to push the disturbing dream from his mind, but it lingered there like a bad aftertaste. His father and brother were preparing the meat.

"Mom, is there anything else you need for the stew?" Lend asked.

His mother glanced up, her eyes squinting at the sun's brilliancy. "Could you gather a few herbs from the garden?"

Lend nodded and rose, sliding his knife into its holster against his thigh. He followed the small trail, his eyes glancing at the familiar markings.

The further he went, the more an uneasy feeling grew in his gut. Lend's eyes darted to the brush, where anything could hide if it chose to. Something feels off. Again his mind drifted to his dream.

Lend tried to shrug it off, knowing he was on edge. He stopped to gather the herbs, his mother desired, when the hair on the back of his neck prickled. Movement nearby grabbed his attention, and he pulled out his knife. His keen eyes darted to the trees on either side of him.

Suddenly, a blue bolt of lightning struck the ground beside him. Lend tumbled forward and into a hard run, his arms pumping with fury, panic spreading in his chest. A creature howled somewhere behind him.

Something crackled—a blue flame dashed the earth inches from his feet, scattering rocks. Lend dove into the forest dodging trees and swiping branches from his face.

"Get him! Round up the others!" a Citizen roared.

Oh, no. There are more of them, he thought. The forest sizzled behind him as the ballistic creatures went into a rage. Run, run, his frantic thoughts screamed. His family's faces raced through his mind as the cool air whipped around him. What if they've already been captured?

Lend plummeted into a deep ditch hitting the earth hard. His lungs burned as he fought to stand back up again. Something struck him back down, and a heavy foot pressed up against the side of his face. Twisting hard he managed to push the Citizen off of him, but when he turned around he faced a group of power-crazed creatures. They glared at him with deep-set scowls. Two walked forward holding heavy chains in their webbed hands.

"There's nowhere to run," rumbled a deep voice. Lend pulled out his knife and gripped the handle tightly.

"What is that?" One of the Citizens laughed.

A brown-haired Citizen lunged for him. Lend swung his knife slicing a thin trail of blood down the creature's arm.

"This human thinks he can fight." More laughter followed. They charged at him again. Lend swung his knife in a wide arc, dodging and pushing the creatures into each other.

"Just grab him," one said in annoyance.

Heat hit the back of Lend's leg. He jumped to the left as one of the Citizens flew over his shoulder slamming into the ground.

The brown-haired Citizen swore as he made a grab for Lend's legs. Lend jumped back turning in a circle, his eyes dark with fury. Pain suddenly exploded in the back of his skull. He staggered. Another blow knocked him off his feet and onto his face; his body hit the dirt with a thud. Lend heard someone hissing as another jumped onto him, pinning him to the ground.

Lend growled trying to shake the heavy body off of him. Blue flames slammed the ground near his face crackling and exploding, scorching his cheek. The brown-haired Citizen pulled him up by his hair and shoved him against the side of a metal vehicle. He could smell burnt flesh as the webbed hands pulled his arms tight behind him. The other Citizens hissed and laughed as they shoved others from his tribe into the back of the speedcars. He tried to see if his family was among the group, but he was forced into the horde of humans and prodded to the back of the vehicle.

***

The city loomed large and beautiful; buildings scraped the bright blue sky. Streets were streaked with flames of color as speedcars blared by. Signs blinked simultaneously retching their product or business with ferocious flare. The noise was deafening. Children played, Guardians barked orders, and the city radio squawked from flashy speakers. It was pandemonium at its best.

Morthane stood in his airy office staring down over Cathrach. The streets were filled with glistening speedcars, dots of blue-skinned Citizens, and humans lapping at their masters' heels. He watched as neon signs blinked, advertising the latest gadgetry and fashion. He glanced down at his tight black pala, a strong material toga, stretched across his blue skin and toning his perfectly formed muscles. The fashion really hadn't changed since they'd invaded Earth some thousand years ago. He got a glimpse of his own reflection in the massive window and narrowed his eyes. He was 6'7, his chest muscular and broad; his blue skin was a shade darker than most Citizens. He ran his fingers through his short black hair that was neatly styled. His jaw was strong, and his face was handsome.

Morthane's office was spacious, too large his mate always had told him. It fit his personality. The windows filled the wall behind him so that he could look out over Cathrach anytime he wanted. He loved space, and the fifty some odd feet ceilings gave him plenty. The opposite wall was filled with black files; every human who'd ever crossed Human Co's doors was recorded.

Morthane's eyes zeroed in on the other side of the wall where a portrait hung of him and his family. His two children, Jania and Boron, looked down on him with wide smiles. His family. He sighed softly to himself. He was losing them; Rasa had been clear about that. He'd ignored the warnings, instead focusing on building an empire.

It wasn't that he didn't care for his family; he was just focused. Morthane blew out a slow breath but could still feel the tension in his muscles. What's wrong with me? He walked over to his black marble desk, as cold air blew through the air ducts.

I like it cold, he thought.

Morthane sat down pulling up a file that had been on his mind. He touched the screen with the tip of his webbed finger and saw several human faces—he needed to get them sold. Citizens didn't buy humans like they used to. They were so particular now about the breed, the bone structure, and health of the slave they purchased. He sent Guardians out every three to six months to track down more of the creatures and bring them into his warehouse. They were becoming more and more difficult to find. Humans were getting smarter, if that was possible. He smirked.

Rasa's face came into his mind, her long brown hair, lean figure, and pale gray eyes pleading. She hated Human Co; she thought it was cruel.

Morthane couldn't help but replay what he'd said to Rasa just before she'd packed up their two kids and walked out the door. She'd given him a choice: Human Co or her. He'd chosen his business. He couldn't let it die. His father had run this business, and his father before that, and generations past. It was a part of who he was—a part of his legacy. He glanced up at the family portrait on the wall. It was almost as if he could feel the disappointment in those eyes staring down at him. He'd threatened to have her banned. A muscle jerked in his face. That was stupid, but did he really feel like he could be with a mate who hated his business?

Morthane pushed the thoughts away as an employee suddenly appeared before him. He raised his hand in greeting and she bowed.

"Sir, your shipment has just arrived. There's an unruly one that needs to be tranqued," she said in a matter-of-fact voice. Morthane raised his hand in dismissal. Humans are still humans.

"Fine, do whatever is necessary. I have a lot to do today. Ship him off to the first Citizen once he's been detained."

The woman nodded and left him. He felt a strange pang at her departure. Maybe I'll go detain the animal myself.

***

Morthane stood near the window of his warehouse, his eyes taking in the new batch of humans. He looked at a file in his hand scanning the page. Five hundred. A small shipment. It was always a messy business when they brought in the new ones from the wild. He watched for a moment as his Guardians corralled the women to one side and the men to the other. They'd be taken to the disinfecting chamber where they'd be washed thoroughly and given fresh palas to wear. He pressed his hand against the glass getting a good look at them.

They always cling to each other. It was something he didn't understand. He observed one woman who was wailing, her arms outstretched toward a man on the opposite side. He found it easier to handle them when he pulled the women and men apart. You'd think he was the devil himself the way these humans carried on.

A man in the back corner grabbed his attention. This must be the man who needs to be tranqued. He was tanned, around 6'3, with long black hair that fell almost to his waist. He was leaping and dodging, avoiding any attempt to corral him. Morthane's Guardians were warned not to damage his goods, but this display was downright stupid. The other humans were staying out of the crazy man's path as he continued his manic attempt to avoid the Guardians. Humans. Stupid things. But they are wonderful animals once they are trained.

Morthane grew annoyed—this human was making a fool out of them. He thrust his hand on the scanner, and the door swished open.

"Morgel, I'll handle him myself."

The small Citizen scampered away like a rat as Morthane entered the warehouse. He saw the wild human pause and stare at him for a heartbeat. Morthane pulled out his tranque gun and aimed it at the man's chest. A flash exploded, and in a moment the human fell convulsing to the ground. His mouth twitched into half a smile. Problem solved. Morthane slid the tranque into its holster and strolled over to the man. The other humans scattered from him like cockroaches in the light. He leaned down to take a closer look. This one looked strong; muscles bulged from his arms and legs. His skin was bare except for a homemade pair of human pants. He let out a satisfied grunt then turned and left the warehouse.

# Chapter 2

Lila dodged her inamorato's intense stare as she walked into the door of his apartment. It was large and open, the walls stark white, the furniture a rich black. She'd always thought this place was too masculine for her taste. She knew what conversation was coming and dreaded it. She looked up to see her 6'9 inamorato towering over another figure. One word described Jodge: Huge. He had blonde hair that was typically fused into a point; his black wings covered his back like a cape. He was distracted for a moment, so she set her purse down on the table glancing in the hallway mirror. She prodded her pins loose, fiery red hair came spilling down her shoulders. It was long, down to her waist, curling at the end. She sensed someone behind her and turned.

"Hi, beautiful." He warmly pulled her into his embrace. He was solid against her back, his breath warming her cheek.

"Hi," she whispered, looking up into his face. He had a strong jaw, a rounded nose, pointy ears, and blue eyes. Her heart quickened as he bent close to her ear and whispered, "I got a new human."

Lila turned her head, breaking the muscular Citizen's embrace. She caught movement where Jodge had just been standing a moment before. A pretty human girl stood with a blank expression on her face. She was lean, her blonde hair curling around her shoulders; her face was perfect. Lila's heart squeezed. Jodge meant to hurt her. She'd damaged his pride, and now he was aiming for her heart.

"She's been assisting me all day." He stroked the back of Lila's black, leathery wings. A shudder ran through her as her eyes darted up to his face, fury rising in her chest.

"This won't change anything, Jodge," she said coolly, taking a step back from him. Jodge gave a brilliant smile, trying to charm his way back into her heart.

"I've been training her, trying to find out what she's capable of."

Lila's mouth twitched into a hard line as she watched Jodge pull the human close to him, his dark blue skin touching the pale girl's arm. The girl was clearly frightened, shaking like a leaf.

"She has to give me what I want, Lila. You, on the other hand." He flung the girl away as if a ragdoll. The human uttered a sharp cry as she hit the wall and slumped to the floor. Lila felt a stab of pity. Poor thing, she did nothing wrong. She pushed Jodge's meaty hands away. He wasn't getting anything from her. Not tonight.

Jodge lifted his hands to her face and held her chin softly.

"I'm just trying to understand. Why won't you just say yes and be my mate?" His fingers trailed her skin. Lila couldn't help but melt just slightly at his touch.

"I'm not ready for that yet. Besides, being my inamorato is close to being my mate," she whispered, her wings fluttering out around her like black silk.

"When will you be ready?" Jodge gave a nervous laugh.

The girl Citizen shifted her weight pulling her face out of his hands.

"It's complicated."

"That's because we've never—" His voice cut off as he turned his head away from her in frustration. She grabbed his webbed hands and looked into his blue eyes.

"I don't agree with what you're doing." She leaned up against the counter in defiance. Jodge studied her face for a moment.

"The humans?"

"Yes." She walked around to the table and sat down. He laughed, his dark bat-like wings unfolding slightly then refolding against his back. He ran his webbed fingers over his face in exasperation. Jodge walked over to the girl lying on the floor, staring down at her.

"She's nothing. Just a game I like to play." He reached out for Lila and kissed her lips fiercely. Lila was not convinced.

"It's wrong, Jodge. It's breaking the laws."

"Since when have you followed the laws, Lila?" Jodge laughed. The girl closed her eyes.

"That's beside the point."

"I'll take the human back. She wasn't worth it anyways. Besides, Halfsies are disastrous creatures."

The comment helped a little. Halfsies were immediately destroyed before birth or just shortly after. Citizens and humans should never mix. She looked at the human and put her hand on the girl's light hair. She was young. Maybe fifteen?

"Wake up, human." Lila gently shook the girl. The girl's lip trembled as she stood to her feet. She was dressed in a pale blue pala; her blonde hair was ruffled but otherwise still perfect. "Get me some coffee."

The girl let out a small whimper, glanced at Jodge, and walked toward the kitchen. Jodge looked pleased with himself. He reached for Lila, and she came into his arms again.

Lila stepped outside to drink in the cool night air, letting her mind play with an ancient memory from her past. Jodge wanted a direct answer that she couldn't give him. Why don't I want to be his mate? Her fingers traced the wood grain back and forth as she stared out over the lit up city below.

Tannel. The name arose from within her thoughts. She'd tried to bury that memory a long time ago. She'd been just a kid. Lila closed her eyes letting the wind kiss her eyelashes. Her mother had always taught her to respect humans, to treat them gently. Her father was the extreme opposite. Lila's mom had purchased a young male human and had given him to Lila as a playmate. Pain reared its ugly head at the memory of the human whom she'd grown to love.

***

Lila went down to Human Co early the next morning. She had no idea why, maybe just to get away from Jodge. She felt like she couldn't think straight when he was near her. She glanced at the new humans, bored. They were all the same. Same scared expression, same faces, all the same. She sighed, annoyed that she'd come down here.

Suddenly, one of them moved. Struggled. He had been on his side while most humans were free to move around. His hands were tied behind him, his body iced, lying on the ground. But this one was putting up a fight. She noticed the handlers holding tranque guns in their webbed hands. Her eyes drew back to his form. He had toned muscles and thick black hair.

Unruly. That was the first word that came to her mind. She liked him. He glanced up at her, his eyes full of pain. His body shivered.

"That one," Lila commanded. A Citizen with yellow, wiry hair glanced at her surprised.

"He is untrained, ma'am. We've had to ice him three times now."

Lila frowned noting the marks on the male human's body. He'd been punished severely by the looks of it.

"Get him for me, now." Her voice held authority that none dared disobey. Within a moment Lila had bought herself a new human. It was about time a human had a backbone.

***

Lend was tied up and thrown into the back of a speedcar. He shook, his body still reacting to being iced. He could hear the Citizen start up the engine, and heat kicked out the back vent. In a few moments his muscles started to spasm as they unthawed.

"That should get you moving again." He heard her say cheerily from the front. It was painful. The cold and hot combined made his body burn. He moaned softly not wanting the Citizen to hear it. She turned slightly in her seat.

"What a moron my brother is. Doesn't he know you're not supposed to ice a human body more than once?" She made a disgusted noise as she reached a long arm back behind her and turned all of the vents onto him. Warm air blasted him. He let out an audible groan and she winced.

"Just try to relax. Icing takes a while to recover from." She turned back around, leaning back against her seat as the automatic car carried them through the streets of downtown. It was silent, but for the sound of the vents letting out whooshes of air.

Lend let his mind drift. Who is she? Fear made his body break out into cold sweats. His arms finally felt unthawed. He moved slightly. Still painful. His legs were still held together like someone had wrapped them in tight, cold ropes. Anger boiled inside his chest like a hot cauldron.

What am I going to do? he thought.

Lend sat up slightly as the car turned sharply through the streets. He looked over at the Citizen woman. She looked wealthy, her body was adorned with expensive jewelry, her fiery red hair held glittering diamonds. Why did she buy me? The car came to a quick stop. His shoulder hit the seat and he groaned. He slumped back down. Lend heard the doors swoosh open. The female Citizen grabbed him from the back and hauled him out. He winced.

"Walk, human."

Lend's legs felt wobbly as she placed him on his feet. He walked cautiously every step caused burning pain to race up and down his calves. It was like walking on coals. Not that he'd ever walked on coals. He looked up at the alien and found her staring at him. His expression darkened.

***

Lila found this human fascinating. She could almost read the thoughts that played through his dark eyes. He wanted her throat. She felt a thrill. She knew he could never hurt her. She was, after all, the superior race. The human took tentative steps forward. Lila could tell that he was in pain from being iced. She'd never bought a human who'd been iced before—they usually were trouble. This one wanted a fight. She gripped his arm and looked up at his face.

"Don't be foolish." Lila let a small surge of power go through her hand. He looked at it and pulled his arm away quickly. So, he'd felt the power before? She felt a stab of pity go through her chest. She led the way, keeping her eye on him as they made their way into her apartment. He looked lost. She didn't blame him. She approached him as they came to the second floor.

"My name is Lila."

The human listened, his eyes intent on her face. His gaze was like ice.

"Your purpose is to obey me. If you don't, I want you to understand that I can have you destroyed."

***

Lend observed his new master with an acid-like stare. She had chiseled features, high cheek bones, petite nose, and a slim body. Her skin was pale blue and red hair adorned her head. She had flashing green eyes and black leathery wings that were curled against her back. Lend walked down a long hallway, the lights dim. He hoped his fear didn't show on his face as the creature led him to a doorway.

"This is your room, human."

Lend looked down the other side of the hallway. A woman peeked her head out one of the doors. She stared at him for a moment then shut the door quickly when she spotted Lila. Lend turned toward the Citizen woman feeling empty and defeated. She turned and walked away as he opened his door and stepped inside his tomb. The room was as empty as his feelings. It was dimly lit with a single bed, a small lamp, and a dresser shoved against one corner. He walked over to the dresser and opened it up, feeling his muscles scream at him with pain. Inside were bland gray clothes.

He pulled one out. Is this a dress? He looked at it with disgust. He didn't know who these aliens thought they were, but he was not going to wear a stupid dress. He'd rather wear his human pants that the warehouse keeper had tried to strip off of him. He'd bitten him. He closed the drawer roughly and stared at the wall. A few moments later there was a soft knock on the door. He opened it and saw a young woman standing there. She smiled at him.

"Hi, I'm Gali."

"Lend."

"Welcome to our home."

"Thanks."

She nodded, turned, and walked away. Lend closed the door with a thud and leaned up against the back of it. I have to get out of here and find my family. Their faces flashed before him bringing a stinging pain to his chest. His fingers curled into a fist.

# Chapter 3

Jodge walked into Lila's apartment holding a package in his arms. He set it down, searching for the red-haired beauty. She walked around the corner.

"Hey, beautiful." He leaned over and kissed her lips. She put her arms around him and kissed him back.

"What did you bring me?"

"Dinner." Jodge opened the package and popped it into the wall cooker. In moments, the smell of roast filled the room.

"I bought a new human."

"You did?" Jodge sat at the table, his giant frame filling the room.

"Where is she?"

"It's a man," Lila said with a mysterious smile. Jodge's eyes narrowed. Lila shrugged off his dark look. She set the dinner on the table and sat down.

"What made you want to buy another human?" Jodge said, his tone dripping with jealousy.

"I guess I was bored. I went down to Human Co to check out Morthane's new supply. Nothing too interesting until I saw this one male who'd been iced."

"Iced?" Jodge's voice hardened.

"He seemed fine once I de-thawed him and gave him a pep talk." She shrugged her shoulders. "I wanted a man to fix a few things around my place and to shop with me." Lila ran her slender, webbed fingers through her hair. Jodge grunted as he spooned food into his mouth.

"Where is he?"

"Down in the human apartment below."

"Can I see him?"

"Just a minute. I'll call him." Lila punched a button on the wall. "Human, come here."

A minute later, Lend appeared in a ragged pair of pants and a black shirt, his dark hair tangled around his face.

"What a mess," Jodge muttered.

"Tell me about it. I still have to have him tagged and cleaned up." The girl Citizen touched the human's long hair.

"He looks different." Jodge's eyes examined the human. Lila put her webbed hand over Jodge's.

"That's why I bought him; he's not afraid of us." She laughed lightly. Jodge stood, a sick smile twisting the corners of his mouth. "Leave him, Jodge. I like him like that." Lila waved her hand at her inamorato. Jodge stood in front of the male human standing a good six inches taller.

"Have you broken him yet, Lila?"

"Like I said, I just bought him," she said in exasperation. Jodge ran his hand over Lend's chest.

"Solid." The male Citizen's eyes narrowed. "Human, let me look at you."

"Why do you want to examine him?" Lila said in annoyance. Jodge shrugged.

"Just curious."

Lila stood as well and walked over to Lend.

"Take off your clothes, human."

***

Lend stared in shock at the two Citizens. Strip? He looked at each of their faces.

"Do you understand me?" The female Citizen crossed her arms, tapping her foot impatiently.

Lend nodded coldly and began to undress. His shirt came off revealing his chest.

"You didn't have him examined before buying him, Lila?"

"No, I just bought him as is. He looked healthy enough."

The big blue Citizen ran his cold hands over Lend's upper torso and across his back. Lend tensed, feeling uncomfortable.

"Okay, now those disgusting things." Jodge pointed to his pants. Lend exchanged looks with his mistress, his eyes intense.

"I don't think he wants to do that."

"Who cares? Take off your clothes, human," Jodge demanded with a snarl. Lend slowly undressed feeling heat rise to his face. He stood before the two Citizens feeling shame wash over him. He was a dog.

God, please help me, he prayed. Lend closed his eyes as the big Citizen finished examining him, then threw his clothes back at him.

"Go get a pala on, human. He looks good, Lila, but maybe you should give him a reminder who's boss."

"Like I said, he's not been broken. You can go."

Lend walked away burning with shame. No creature should touch me like that. He cringed in disgust. He glanced down at his body, fear wriggling up his torso. The girl alien hadn't seen it, but that giant had left a burn where the sun don't shine. He winced. The pain was still fresh; he let out a little moan resting his forehead against the wall.

God, please rescue me. He did want kids one day. He should stay away from that Citizen.

***

A buzz resounded through Lend's room, startling him from his sleep.

"Male human, come here," a voice came through the speaker. He stretched, forcing his stiff muscles into motion. He headed toward the upstairs apartment where his mistress lived, feeling annoyed at being roused. He walked through the door to see the red-haired alien sitting on a sofa.

"Did my inamorato hurt you?" she asked. He stared at her with a blank expression. His eyes briefly glanced down to the burn that was still smarting.

"No," he said in a low voice. She looked him over with a critical eye.

"Fine then, there are some things I need you to do." She got off the sofa and pointed across the room. "Fix that, wallscreen, human."

Lend stood staring at the blank wall. What am I supposed to do? What the heck is a wallscreen? He warily touched the object and frowned. A little help, he thought. A spark flew from the wall and landed in front of his feet.

"Oh, crap," Lend muttered. He stomped it out as soft footsteps resounded behind him. He turned and saw Gali staring at him, a washcloth in her hand.

"You're clueless aren't you?" A little smile tipped the side of her mouth. He nodded. She set the cloth down and tapped the wall several times.

"Just keep tapping. It will reset itself and if any more sparks fly just stomp them out. It should be fine after that."

He gave her a smile of relief. "Thanks."

"No problem." She picked up her cloth and walked away. Lend kept tapping and putting out the fires until the wall suddenly turned blue and pictures started flashing like a crazed dream. The colorful wall pictures came to a sudden stop; a blue Citizen flickered into view.

"Impressive, and here I thought you would be like all the other stupid, wild humans who come fresh from the warehouse." The blue girl walked toward him her wings tucked behind her. She paused and stared at him openly. "You're not afraid of me are you?" She touched the wallscreen with the tips of her webbed fingers and leaned on one hip. Lend wasn't sure how to answer that question. Of course he was afraid, but part of him was just aching to kill.

"Should I be?"

"Are all humans in the wild this bold?" She flicked a piece of her fiery red hair away from her shoulders.

"No, just me." He crossed his arms over his chest.

Lila's green eyes danced with amusement. "It's unnatural for a human to be so open with one of us. Are you a leader among your people?"

"I have no people," he said darkly.

"Listen, human, I am amused with your honesty, but being rude to me will gain you nothing."

"Whatever you say."

"Good." She walked past him and tapped the wallscreen, keeping one eye on him. "Sit." She pointed to the sofa. He sat down, keeping one eye on her the entire time. She brushed the wall several times with the tips of her fingers and then sat on the other sofa.

"Watch this vid." The screen glowed with color.

Lend watched half-heartedly trying to catch all of the information that was flowing into his eye sockets.

"As you can see, we rule this planet. No matter what you did in the wild, you are now in Cathrach. This place is our domain." She turned the volume up. Lend stood to his feet.

"It was ours first," he growled.

Lila walked over to him and glared up into his face.

"If you want it, take it back then."

Anger clouded Lend's mind for a moment, before turning his head away in shame.

***

The morning sunlight danced off the crystal vase on the mantel as Lend rubbed his eyes. Sleep had eluded him last night. All he could think about was what Lila had said to him. He wanted to take back their planet. Humanity had once ruled this world. Now look at us. Slaves to some blue-skinned freaks of nature. He spotted Gali in the kitchen with a broom in one hand.

He wandered over that way. "When were you caught?"

She cast her blue eyes downward continuing to sweep.

"Four years ago. I was fourteen." She moved like a willow, dusting and moving from one place to the other. Lend caught her arm and looked into her eyes.

"How did you survive this long in Cathrach?"

"Obeying her," she said in a quiet voice. Lend gritted his teeth.

"Yeah, about that."

"She's not that bad if you are quick to obey. She even lets me stay up and watch the wallscreen at night if I want to. She goes out a lot."

Lend looked at the wallscreen that he'd just fixed. "You have a family, Gali?"

She turned her face from him again, her lower lip trembling.

"I did. I don't know where they are now. They were all sold except my younger brother, he was banished. He was too young to be of any good."

"How old was he?"

"Five." Tears slipped down her cheeks. Lend's eyes filled with pity. Five.

"Do you have a family?" Gali wiped the tears from her face. Lend ran his fingers through his hair.

"Yeah, I have a brother, a sister, and parents. I was captured, but I don't know what happened to them. They weren't on the speedcar or in the warehouse with me."

"Then they escaped."

I hope so, he thought.

***

"What is that you're wearing?" Lila asked, eying Lend's dirty pants with disgust. "Didn't I give you something else to wear?"

Lend glared at her.

"Put on a clean pala, human."

Lend planted his feet, his arms folded across his bare chest. I am not wearing a dress!

"You're as bad as a child." Lila eyed him with slight amusement. "Girl human!"

A few seconds later Gali appeared, her head bowed low.

"Dress this vermin and if he isn't in a clean pala in a few minutes I will punish you both."

Gali bowed again. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Why don't you dress me yourself?" Lend said.

Lila turned slowly. "Are you challenging me, human?"

Lend's eyes burned, his fists clenching. "I am a man. A man! I will not wear a dress! I don't care if it is your culture for men to wear women's clothing. I will not wear it!" He shook his fist at her. Gali scampered from the room as Lila's face inflamed.

"You are just a human." She pointed her webbed finger at him. "Would you rather wear a dress? Or I put the dress on you and then destroy you in it?" They stood across from each other chests rising and falling with frustration.

She's not that big. Maybe I can take her. Lend scoffed at himself. Take a Citizen? Maybe she was right. It was better to wear a dress than be dead.

"Put it on." She stressed each word, blue fire crackling on her hand. "Or I will."

Lend made a grunting sound and then stalked toward the human apartment below. Fine. I will wear the stupid dress.

# Chapter 4

Lend balanced about twelve packages in his arms as Lila made her way through downtown. His throat burned with thirst, his body heavy with exhaustion.

Don't these creatures ever quit? he thought.

Lila paused in front of a window with several palas hanging on white manikins. Lend let out an exasperated sigh. How many more of these stupid dresses does she need? He made a face as he looked down at his gray dress. It was humiliating, even though every human that passed by him was wearing a dress too. At least in the wild they'd kept to the traditions of their ancestors. Men wore pants.

He grunted to himself as Lila walked into the next store. Lend set the packages down for a moment and eyed the merchandise with dull interest. It was pretty much the same as the other alien stores. The girl Citizen was looking at jewelry that was hanging from a girl human's fingers. The girl looked dead on her feet. She stood there holding necklaces up for Lila when requested. He strolled over, keeping his eyes level with the slave girl. She never looked at him. Not once. She was tall, had pale skin, and frizzy brown hair. She was extremely plain. His pulse started racing. Do I know her? He was trying to sort out things in his memory when a sharp voice broke his concentration.

"Human! Eye my packages!"

Frustration laced through him, but he went back to the packages and collected them. He brought them over to where the girl stood. I do know her. Her face became clearer in his mind. She was a woman now. Her name was Nala. He used to play with her as a boy in their village. Everyone had thought she'd been killed. Now here she was standing before him holding Citizen jewelry. She finally looked toward him but refused to look into his eyes. What happened to her?

"Step aside!" Lila snapped at him as he came closer.

Lend paused, willing Nala to make eye contact with him. Does she remember me? The girl finally looked right at him. This time he saw recognition in her eyes, but then she looked away.

Lila finally chose a necklace and had Nala clasp it on her. The pendant shone like diamonds on her pale blue throat. She studied the piece of jewelry then turned her attention to Lend, her eyes flickering in amusement.

"What is it you want, human?"

"I know her."

Lila eyed the brown-haired girl and turned back toward him.

"Can I talk to her?" He dropped his voice.

"I will search through the palas. You may have liberty to speak." She walked toward the colored clothes, keeping one eye on him.

Lend crossed the space between himself and Nala.

"Hi."

"Hi." Her eyes flickered nervously to and fro.

"Do you remember me, Nala?"

She nodded quickly a shaky hand going to her throat.

"I cannot speak long," she whispered.

"What happened to you?"

Her expression grew more frightened. "I was wandering through the woods and some Citizens jumped me. I've been the shopkeeper's slave since I was ten. Have you been a slave long?"

"No, just a few weeks."

"Do not provoke them. I've had many of my friends destroyed for just talking back to their masters." She grasped his hand with desperation. "Please, for my sake, do not speak to me again." She dropped his hand like it was poisonous. "Please, Lend, leave." Her eyes pooled with tears which she quickly wiped away. "If he finds me speaking to a male, he will cut my tongue out."

Lend nodded and backed up. He picked up the packages and walked toward Lila, his heart heavy.

***

Lila walked out the door of the shop. She sensed despair hanging over her human like a dark cloud. Why do I even care? She'd never been involved in a human's ups and downs before. A wind picked up, making a shiver run through her. She pulled her expensive pala closer to her skin. Her wings flicked out and she curled them around her body protecting herself from the cold. They finally reached her apartment and went inside. The human paused in the entrance.

"Where should I put these?" he asked in a tired voice.

"Follow me, human." She could feel his irritation as they made their way up to her apartment. They stepped inside and he set the packages on the floor and turned to face her.

"Why do you call me 'human'?" His eyes narrowed. Lila turned in surprise, taking a step closer to him. No human has ever asked me that before. It was just the way things were. Citizens never acknowledged humans as equals.

"We have names you know."

His boldness made a smile creep into the corners of her lips.

"You are a fool," she said, standing so close to him that they were nearly touching. His dark eyes danced with boldness, his face filled with something she couldn't quite grasp. Does this human long to die?

"What is your name then, human?"

His mouth pursed tight, his eyes flickered from her face, and his chest rose and fell quickly. Lila could sense his anger, like a beast wanting to break out.

"Lend," he said. She reached out to touch his arm but withdrew her hand at the last second.

"What a strange name."

"It's better than Lendon."

She raised an eyebrow and stepped back. His closeness unnerved her.

"I'm the daughter of Jeol. Do you know who that is, human?" She ran a finger along the counter.

"No."

She walked a few paces from him not liking the feelings he was provoking in her. She'd been raised by a father who despised humans. Her ancestors had been the ones to take over Earth and to destroy almost the entire population of the creatures they now enslaved. Her mother, on the other hand...

She turned back toward Lend. "He is the one who wrote the laws and codes of the land. To ask for a human's name is forbidden. Which is one law I've broken already." She reached out her webbed hand to touch his stone-set face. "You're not afraid of me." It was more of a statement than a question. "Why is that?"

"Maybe I don't care if I die."

She brushed his skin. Such a strange feeling. His eyes tightened.

"You don't like us to touch you?" she said.

"No."

She pulled her hand away, an amused expression on her face.

"Oh?" She came a little closer, blue flames dancing around her like a close companion. "And of death you think so little?"

He didn't flinch as she held out the blue flames in her hands.

"You wish to speak with death, human? For she is cruel." The flames hovered in front of his face. Still he didn't flinch. Lila laughed. "I find you too amusing to destroy. Besides, a good human is rare to find. Perhaps, I enjoy the company of fools. Be gone with you." She waved a webbed hand at him.

He turned and walked away. What a strange human. I like him. She'd never had a human defy her like that before. She'd had humans with spirit, but none compared to this one.

***

Lila sat on her couch sipping hot coffee, flipping through the wallscreen channels. There was nothing in the world to do. The girl Citizen heard a soft noise and rose to her feet. Her pointed ears perked up. What is that? She strained to hear, her wings fluttering about her like a small canopy of black and blue. She pressed her ear to the wall and frowned. It wasn't her neighbors.

She pressed her ear to the floor and then rose back up in understanding. That happened often, humans made strange noises all the time. Her girl had cried more tears then Lila could count. It was rather frustrating; when the girl was sad she'd work less, she'd eat less, and Lila would find her asleep often. Mating was forbidden, but Lila wondered if humans needed companions to play with. That wasn't why she bought the man, but it made him useful in another way.

For some reason it disturbed her that someone was crying below. She'd never felt that way before. Lila drifted to the hall and down the steps trying to keep quiet. She didn't want to frighten the creatures—just to listen.

She stopped in front of a door. It was cracked open. She could hear muffled sobs coming from inside. She tucked her finger into the door and opened it. The girl human had her face pressed in her pillow and Lend hovered above her. His muscles stiffened as he heard the door open. He turned toward her.

"She's sick."

Lila came into the room and flicked the light on. The girl was strewn across the bed, her face as pale as death, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"What's the matter with her?"

Lend put a hand to the girl's forehead and frowned. "I don't know. Gali, what's the matter?" He brushed a hair from the girl's face. Gali moaned, her eyes fluttering close.

"Find out what's wrong and fix it." Lila walked from the room.

***

"She's going to destroy me, Lend," Gali whispered through her tears. Lend stroked the girl's hair from her forehead, his eyes filled with concern.

"Now, why would she do that?"

"I just found out I'm pregnant." She held her hands over her face. Lend sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Why would she kill you because of that?"

She touched her stomach with nimble fingers. "It's forbidden to love. It's forbidden for two humans to..." She let the sentence fall flat. Lend nodded with understanding.

"We'll hide it, Gali. I'll cover for you." Lend patted the girl's back, feeling awkward.

"I can't have a baby, where would I keep it?" Her eyes locked onto his. Lend grasped her hand for a moment, feeling strange in doing it. He hardly knew the girl.

"We'll think of something, okay? Who's the father?"

Gali gulped down tears. "He lives in the human apartment next to ours. He said we wouldn't be caught." She gripped Lend's hands tighter. "I don't want to die, Lend." She brushed her tears away with the back of her hand.

"I won't let that happen, Gali."

Pick up your copy of Fatal Alien Attraction.

Author Bio

Natasha House was born in Michigan, grew up in a town the size of a peanut, and moved to an only slightly bigger town when she was ten-years-old. After writing a book for school at the age of 12, Natasha won an award and was sent to Young Authors. Soon, she was discovering that writing stories and make believing was crazy fun, and it became her hobby. It wasn't until she decided to write a book for her sisters, that she published for the entire world to read. A Doctor Who lover, Natasha loves the weird and the strange and can't seem to stick to one particular genre. She is the author of a Fantasy series, Christian romance, YA Urban Fantasy, Dystopian, as well as a couple Non-fictions. She loves talking to her readers and would love for you to visit her.

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