Chapter 3

CHAPTER

THREE

MAGGIE

My mouth tastes like sawdust and iron and, saints help me, Everclear.

Not the best combination.

I sit bolt upright, dry heaving, my head pounding, and all I can think is I must have had the best night I'll never remember.

Until I stop retching and realize I'm not at home.

Nope. This isn't Gran's house.

This is not my beautiful house.

This is not my beautiful street.

"Sana shenla," a deep voice rasps from behind me.

"That's not my beautiful wife," I mutter weakly, too sick to resist as a blue hand grips my waist, pulling me close.

"Sana shenla," the alien behind me murmurs, tugging me so close I can feel his heartbeat against my back.

I shiver, sick and miserable and so, so cold. Wherever we've ended up, it's most definitely not Texas in August. I've gone from melting like a vanilla ice cream cone to the deep freeze.

White walls, slick and shining, close in all around me—er, us, I suppose—and as another chill takes me, the alien says something else, pulling me in even tighter to him.

Him, definitely, considering the hard length pressed against my naked back.

I screech, my eyes flying wide, and immediately regret the high-pitched noise. It ricochets against the walls, an unending echo that seems to reverberate through my very bones.

If I thought my head was going to split before, now I'm sure it will.

A soft moan comes out of me and I clutch at my temples, the sound still pinging around the room.

I stiffen as a warm hand gently claps over my mouth, the alien tightening his grip as he continues to speak something to me quietly.

Not angry at the noise I made, but soothing.

The same way I might speak to the chickens at my gran's house.

My gran, who is now home alone, while I'm on a…

Panic tears through me, and I struggle against the arms around me, to no avail.

Everything about the alien is rock-hard.

"Sana shenla." His lips brush against my ear, his voice a mere whisper.

I have no idea what he's saying, but he's not trying to hurt me, and other than the somewhat painful prod of his prick against my lower back and the lingering headache of whatever the gorilla-wannabe alien hit me with, I'm okay.

My nostrils flare as I inhale deeply, attempting to self-soothe.

Calm. Yep, I'm calmer than a cat on a hot tin roof.

My poor gran. What is she going to think?

At least my sister is getting back early tomorrow. She's eaten, she's had her meds, she's going to be okay.

I sniffle, and the alien murmurs something else, completely unintelligible.

All I know for sure is that we're both naked as jaybirds, unable to communicate, and I've been abducted.

It's not ideal.

I want to cry. I want to cry so badly that my whole chest aches with it. My stomach cramps, too, and I frown.

I don't cry.

Instead, I roll slightly forward and throw up all over the floor.