Prologue

PROLOGUE

Drak

Almost 2 Months Before

Sighing happily, I brush off my hands and let myself into the Urth structure that Marrec disappeared in. I expect to find him curiously looking around but am shocked to find him on the ground. In his arms, I see piles of curly hair.

"Marrec, my friend," I greet, looking down at him with wide, curious eyes. "Why do you cradle your food?"

The retired warrior grimaces. "She is not food. She lives."

" Truly? " Excitement is evident in my tone.

Upon looking closer at the female in his arms, it is obvious that she is not one of the infected. She looks like a perfectly normal hu-nim specimen. The diseased undead look more like rabid animals than true hu-nims. I have seen images of both and they do not appear similar to me at all.

I remember studying the information we gathered on this planet before arriving to prepare for our hunt. As Aprixians, we are specially equipped to eat unliving creatures, and we came here to do just that. Of course, being cautious, we made sure to have the local language for this sector of the planet uploaded into our knowledge bases.

It was a precautionary measure as we did not think many hu-nims would remain alive, certainly not enough to cross paths with any of them. Finding a living hu-nim unaffected by the unliving creature disease without even looking? It felt impossible. And still, Marrec nods, prompting another curious inquiry from me.

"She lives, but she sleeps in your arms?"

"She… fell ?" My friend looks as if he does not know how to explain himself. "These creatures are very fragile. She has injured herself."

My lips fall open in shock. "By falling ?"

"Yes," Marrec reports unhappily.

Being hurt by a fall is troubling, indeed. These Urth creatures are fragile .

"I can hear others in this dwelling, and I am sure they will not be un-shocked to see our kind. I do not know how to approach them."

"I understand," I reply solemnly. I must help him with his.

"HELLO HU-NIMS," I shout, cupping my hands around my mouth. "WE COME IN PEEZ!"

Marrec looks displeased with my outburst as the hu-nim female in his arms winces. "Will you shut up?"

I decide he is being dramatic. I shall not shut up. "They must know that their friend has fallen injured." I grin, preparing to yell a second time. "YOUR SMALL FRIEND IS INJURED. WE HAVE MENDED HER."

" We ?" Marrec drawls, glaring up at me.

" Daan ," I answer, nodding at him with a smirk. Daan is a firm ‘yes' in our language. "I have killed many undead so that you may mend the sleeping one without bother. You are welcome."

It was not a bother, of course, to slay the undead outside of this hu-nim dwelling. It was quite fun, still I must receive credit for it. I am a very helpful male, and it should not go unappreciated.

Surprising the both of us, a sound like a soft blast cuts through the air. Even more shocking is the little piece of metal that pings off of my chest following the noise.

"Oh, nonono," an unfamiliar voice cries. "They're bulletproof? "

"Nothing is bulletproof ," someone else insists, voice sharper than the last. Another blast, and another bit of metal to my chest. It does not hurt, in fact, it feels quite odd, like a tickle.

Around the corner, we spot them. More hu-nims. One holds a metal weapon of their kind, keeping it pointed in my direction. She has a fire in her eyes to match her warm, fiery hair and an expression that burns with determination.

And what a lovely fire it is.

"Is she…" I begin to ask, mind filling with wonder. "Is she attempting to kill me?"

"I believe so," Marrec grunts.

As mesmerized by her actions as I am, her efforts are fruitless. There are not many weapons on Urth that can harm our kind—we already checked. And there are none at all that wouldn't also harm them in the process. Bombs, they are called.

Aprixian bombs are much more sophisticated than Urth ones, too. We have precise lasers, while they have heavy metal pieces of destruction.

Marrec has done much study of this area, much more than the rest of us. Though, Terum was the one who insisted we install the Ang'lish language into our translator capabilities despite the improbability that we may run into living hu-nims. We cannot read the funny symbols written in Ang'lish , but we can hear and speak it with approximately eighty percent accuracy.

Terum is a wise leader. Seeing as we have come face to face with these small Urth dwellers who speak their strange language with far too many words, his guidance has been helpful. But I have always known him to be wise. He is like a father to me—a much better one than my own.

"That one is holding Stevie," a female gasps. "Don't make them mad! What if they hurt her?"

"We are not hurting your friend," I call out, continuing to eye the feisty one who wishes me harm. I do not want these hu-nims to be in distress without cause. "She has fallen and cracked her tiny head."

"She's dead ?" a new one cries out, clearly panicked.

Another blast.

"Ouch," I tease. "Stop it, I do not like tickles ."

Marrec gives me an annoyed scowl. "She is alive," he reports firmly. "I have closed her small cut. She remains unconscious, but she breathes."

"All right, I'm going to be the one to say it. What the fuck are you guys?"

" Megan ," a female growls.

"What? We can't kill them, and they said they helped Stevie."

"And you believe them?" the angry one snaps.

"What other choice do we have?"

"We are of Aprix," Marrec explains. "Your kind call us ally-ins."

"Shut up," one of them shouts. "Aliens don't exist!"

"Neither did zombies eight months ago," the female I can not stop gazing at responds, remaining at her distance. "Do something alien-like, and I won't shoot you again."

"Oh no," I taunt, holding up my hands in surrender. "Not the tickles."

Sighing loudly, Marrec holds up his metal arm. The red chrome spins and retracts, demonstrating the several gadgets stored within. Many startled gasps sound and then one of them comes running around the corner, heading straight for the Stee-vee in his lap.

Her fellow females protest, several calling for her. "Brooke!"

"Fuck you guys," she snarls at them. "I'm checking on Stevie. You can't shoot them, and if they're going to kill me, hiding behind a corner won't stop them."

My eyes widen. Is that what they believe?

"Kill you?" I narrow my eyes at the shooter. "Where would the sport be in that? It would be like slaughtering a pack of toddlers."

It would be easy and yet unimaginable. I would never wish to harm an innocent creature.

The one I believe is called B'rook kneels across from Marrec, bravely turning her chin up to him. "How did she fall?" Gently reaching out, she grazes her small fingers over Stee-vee's bandaged bit of reddened skin.

"She fell to the ground while I spoke to her of where I am from, and why I am here. Just dropped to the floor without a word."

B'rook nods softly. "She fainted. Humans do that sometimes when they're overwhelmed. You probably scared her."

Marrec looks crestfallen with the news. "Hu-nims shut down with fear? How do you survive predators?'

"Sometimes we don't," she says, frowning. "Are there more of you?"

"Four more," I brag, puffing up my chest. "They are coming here now."

My snappy female with the weapon does not like this idea. My brain seems to short circuit as I register my own internal words. Have I just called her mine?

"Why?" She emerges slowly from the corner, keeping her hand-held weapon trained on me. Her hair is red like Marrec's but darker and less bright. I like it.

"Because we are here—" Marrec starts to explain, only to be interrupted by me.

"Put your tiny blaster away, Mean One. It will not harm us," I warn.

I am not threatened by it, but I do not wish for her to shoot at anyone else, and I can hear our fellow Aprixians coming closer to the dwelling. Her anger shall not be directed at another—I long to have it all for myself.

"Perhaps it makes the small hu-nims feel safer to hold onto their weapons," Marrec says, still holding the fainting female while B'rook begins to gently rub her friend's arm.

I scoff at his words. "This is a ridiculous notion. She cannot even pierce our skin with such a minuscule trinket."

Dragging something silver from behind her back, the Mean One narrows her eyes on me. "I bet there are parts of you soft enough to cut off," she hisses, flashing a tiny blade at me. It is a glorious sight—to see her threatening me in such a way.

I can not hide my laughter nor my delighted grin. "I should like to see you try. You may touch all of my parts in your search, Mean One."

For a moment, it looks as if she is going to take me up on the challenge, stepping in my direction with great determination behind her eyes. But a crashing sound interrupts, stopping her stride.

"Frek," L'ore growls. "Why must Urth dwellings be so small ?" He enters the room, rubbing his big orange head. He smashed it into the doorway accidentally.

Rem booms with laughter behind him. "I like it. It's interesting." He pauses, giving a mischievous grin. "And it pains you."

"Don't start," Terum instructs, coming to a halt as he takes in the room. "Care to explain, Marrec?"

"M-Marrec?"

My fellow Aprixian's eyes snap down. Stee-vee is awake, and he is struck by her. Not physically, but struck all the same.

He cannot keep his gaze off of her as her eyelids open and shut with rapid blinks. She breathes out and flinches in unsettled shock.

"Hey, shhh," B'rook coos at her, cupping her face. "Stay calm, all right? Everything is okay. You fainted and hit your head. How do you feel?"

"Oww," Stee-vee whines, fingers reaching up for her wound. Marrec stops the hand in its tracks.

"You'll hurt yourself, Stee-vee," he says gently.

" Ohmygod ," she mutters.

B'rook sighs and grabs Stee-vee by her cheeks firmly. "Hey, you're okay. He patched you up. I don't think they're dangerous… to us anyway. How's your vision, hun?"

"G-good?"

"How many fingers?" B'rook asks, putting up her hand and wiggling some of her digits in the air.

"T-three."

She drops two but adds another. "And now?"

"Two."

This strange test seems to bring B'rook some relief as she says, "Good."

"Can you stand?" another one of her friends asks.

Stee-vee looks at me, and then down to her bare feet. "Maybe?"

I tune out their encounter in favor of staring at the hu-nim who interests me the most. An-nana, one of them has called her this quietly, it is her name, I believe. She does not seem to enjoy it when Marrec helps Stee-vee off of the ground, holding her as if she is the most fragile creature in all of the worlds.

I wonder if An-nana would let me hold her in such a way. Does she need to faint first? I do not think I could scare her into shutting down like Marrec accidentally did with Stee-vee. No, the Mean One seems much too angry to be scared.

"Lucky bish," a hu-nim comments, watching Marrec handle her friend with care.

At her bold comment, someone gasps. "Megan! She hit her head."

"Yeah, Cayte, and now she's being held bridal style by the beefiest of dudes I have ever seen. It's been almost nine months without men. A girl can dream, damn ."

"More like a nightmare," An-nana grumbles.

A disappointing but not surprising comment that tells me she does not long to be held by a male. Or perhaps, just by Marrec.

"You can set me down now," Stee-vee whispers. "I'm okay," she insists when Marrec hesitates.

Reluctantly, he sets her on her feet. B'rook takes her hands and stands in front of her, offering a smile. "Take your time if you have to, you hit your head on solid wood, hun."

"I think I'm fine," Stee-vee tells B'rook. "The cut stings a little, but my head doesn't hurt all that much."

"Stomach ache? Any other pains?"

She slowly shakes her head from side to side. "No, I think I'm okay." Turning to Marrec, she adds, "Um, thank you. For patching my head. I guess you're real then, right? This isn't a fever dream?"

"I do not know what a fever dream is," he says to her. "But there is no need for thanks. I simply put a bandage on your head."

"We also eliminated those pesky unliving-carcasses for you as well," Rem chimes.

The hu-nim with silver hair gapes at him. "Those what ?"

"Zombies," Stee-vee tells her.

Mean One narrows her eyes at Rem. "We didn't ask for your help."

"You did not ask," I agree, smirking at her. "And yet we have done it. I believe hu-nims call this a gift. Gifts are normally reciprocated, are they not?"

"No." She scowls. "They're not."

"Mean One…" I scold. "You are a poor liar."

"And your head is too big for your neck," she shoots back. "Worry about your own problems."

Her quick insult makes my heart race. She is incredible.

Eventually, the leader of the hu-nims thanks us and tells us we may leave. It makes my stomach twist uncomfortably. I do not wish to leave my Mean One, I have just met her. Luckily, the leader called Ca'ate does not have the agreement of all of her peers.

"You're sending them away?" Meg-ham protests. " No way . Aliens show up, save our asses, and you're sending them away? Fuck that."

This hu-nim has a silly name but I am beginning to like her. If she helps us stay, she will have my thanks.

"Take a cold shower," An-nana growls. "Obviously, we're sending them away."

"Won't we be safer with them around though?" Stee-vee suddenly asks quietly. "I mean, if they wanted to stick around…"

An-nana begins to storm away, muttering, "Un-fucking-believable."

I wish to follow behind her, but I know she will not like it.

"Where are you going?" Ca'ate calls after her.

"I've exceeded my usefulness," she yells back. "Fucking protect yourselves if you want to."

" Anna ," B'rook protests, planting her head into her hands.

"I didn't mean to hurt her feelings," Stee-vee sniffles. "I'm just scared."

I am not scared at all.

I believe I am happier than I have been in a very long time.

And I am going to make that mean little hu-nim into my best friend.

I shall try whatever it takes to see and hear more of her.

I wonder if I bribe her with superior weaponry, will she share words with me?