Trapped by the Alien: A Scifi Alien Romance (Fated Mates of the Titan Empire Book 5)

by Tammy Walsh

  I led her to the banister.

  “Look down there,” I said, pointing to the rectangular first floor.

  She looked.

  “At what?” she said.

  “This room is the oldest part of the entire palace,” I said.

  “Really? How do you know that?”

  “Because I used to play here with the young prince when we were both boys.”

  “You played with the prince?”

  I shrugged.

  “I was brought here by my father when I was very young,” I said. “I came here to study, and he came to my home sometimes too. And when we were here, his nanny told us about this room. This was the original palace. It only had two small bedrooms.”

  “How did it get to be so big?”

  “As our empire expanded, so did the palace,” I said. “Until it became as you see now. Our ancestors were great miners. Once we conquered space, we used their skills and techniques to mine other worlds. The bigger we became, the more we mined, and the more we could trade with other cultures across the galaxy.”

  “Wow,” Sirena said. “You must be really proud of your culture.”

  My chest swelled.

  “I am,” I said. “We all are.”

  “I heard some lords speaking earlier about what happened here today,” Sirena said. “They said the Titans lost a war and the lords and ladies had to pledge allegiance to the conquerors. Is that true?”

  “Yes. That was why we were brought here today.”

  “It must have been a difficult thing to do.”

  Harder than you could ever know. But I didn’t say the words. I couldn’t. Not when someone might overhear.

  “It’s getting late,” I said. “You must be tired.”

  We continued up the stairs. She kept glancing at those artifacts. No matter how late it was, she was intent on learning more about our culture.

  “You’re a beautiful singer,” I said. “How long have you been doing it?”

  “My whole life,” Sirena said. “My parents had a hard time shutting me up.”

  “That would be like stopping the birds from singing! I would listen to you all day and night!”

  “I wasn’t always this good. I was terrible at the beginning.”

  “I don’t believe that,” I said. “I’ve never heard music like that before. I mean, we have funeral rites that sound similar but—”

  Sirena barked a laugh and nudged me with her shoulder.

  “I’m not sure if I should take it as a compliment or an insult,” she said.

  “It is a compliment. It’s a slow, deep, and sensual song. Actually, it’s not even really a song. It’s noises that reflect how we feel inside. That’s how your singing comes across. Soulful.”

  She smiled at me.

  “Nice save, Casanova,” she said.

  I had no idea what a Casanova was but I liked the way she looked at me when she said it.

  “Do you have any hidden talents?” she said.

  And again, I could swear her eyes drifted down for a fraction of a second.

  “I bet you do,” she said.

  I blushed—how many years had it been since I last blushed?—and shook my head.

  “No special skills,” I said. “I can barely cope with regular ones.”

  Sirena came to a stop.

  “Well,” she said. “Here we are.”

  Belle Suite. The room name suited her to a T. I felt sad our journey had already ended.

  “It was a pleasure to meet you,” I said. “Maybe I could get your details and you could sing for us sometime. For a celebration or something.”

  “That would be great,” she said and handed me a card. “Thank you for making sure I got home safely.”

  “This isn’t your home,” I said.

  “It is for tonight. Who knows where home will be tomorrow?”

  She went up onto her tiptoes to peck me on the cheek.

  “Sleep tight,” she said.

  The hallway was wide and almost without end, and yet it felt very intimate tucked away there with her. I looked over her perfect skin, her delicate frame, and her scent entered my nostrils and invaded my other senses. Her bloodred lips were right there, within reach. They swelled so large they took up my entire vision. The entire palace might have been a broom closet given how intimate this moment felt. I drifted forward…

  And my wife stared back.

  I leaned on my heels, feeling as if I had awakened from some sort of spell.

  I couldn’t do this, not when my thoughts were still so focused on my wife. It wasn’t fair on Sirena, and it wasn’t fair on the memory of my wife.

  “Good night, Sirena,” I said.

  I took her hand and shook it the way it was customary on planet Earth. As I turned and walked away, regretting every step I took from her, I felt her eyes on my back, and the undeniable sense of disappointment I thought I saw on her face.

  Sirena

  I leaned against the door and sighed. I thought he was going to do it. I thought he was going to press that hard muscular body against mine and kiss me. I was going to keep my eyes open so I could enjoy his handsome face and his gorgeous purple eyes. I wanted to run my fingers through his impossibly thick hair…

  But it didn’t happen.

  Something spooked him and scared him away.

  These Titans were striking in appearance. They had the body of ancient Greek gods. Dark in complexion and mysterious by nature. I wondered how the Titan females could bring themselves to go to work every day when they had an Adonis like him in their beds.

  But of course, they didn’t all look like Kal.

  I chuckled to myself before recalling my situation.

  I shook my high heels off and massaged my feet, easing the deep-seated ache out one metatarsal at a time. With the advanced tech these guys had, surely they could come up with foot coverings that wouldn’t leave you crippled after ten minutes. Or maybe they did it on purpose to prevent me from escaping.

  I paused.

  Escape?

  I hustled across the grand apartment on my still-aching feet, threw the curtains open, and stepped out onto the balcony. Across the way, parked in regimented rows, were the rich Titans’ spacecraft. They came in various shapes and sizes, much like cars back home. Some looked fancier than others but not one of them was rusted with age. These Titans were the cream of their civilization.

  Lords and ladies.

  Well, la-di-da.

  I was a working-class girl from a loving foster family. These guys didn’t need to be from another solar system to look like they came from another planet. A different zip code would have had the same effect.

  I wouldn’t stay here a minute longer than I needed.

  I didn’t have much time. They only gave me until tonight to get the information they needed. I’d failed and they weren’t the forgiving kind.

  I peered over the balcony at the ground far below. It was five floors away. Too far for me to jump.

  I had to resort to good old fairytales to rustle up my idea to escape.

  I would tear the sheets off the bed, tie them together, forming a long rope, and climb down. Would they reach the ground? Probably not. But with any luck, they’d get me close enough so I could use my free running ninja skills to absorb the worst of the impact and make a bolt for the parked spacecraft.

  With this translator strip on my neck, I would hijack one of those ships and then drive it—somehow—back home.

  Sure, the plan had a few kinks to iron out, but that was what winging it was for.

  There was one part of the plan I was especially proud of. Once I got home, I would backward engineer the translator strip—which I thought was the best invention in the history of inventions—and then make billions from the profits. A victimless crime.

  I was desperate. Not knowing how things might pan out in the next few minutes was better than knowing what would definitely happen if I didn’t escape.

  Things would work out. They had
to.

  I yanked the sheets off the bed. The bed was massive—emperor size, of course. And these Titans were big.

  I flattened the sheets out and rolled them up into long cigars, forming a thick rope and twisted them. Then I tied them together one end to the other.

  “They won’t be long enough.”

  I screamed at the voice in the darkness and pressed my back to the wall.

  No one else should have been in my room. Only me.

  I was too late. They’d already come for me.

  A Changeling stepped from the darkness and appraised my handiwork.

  “What if the knots were to slip?” he said. “You’d fall to your death. And where would that get you?”

  “Please,” I said between panting breaths, a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead. “Give me another chance. Please. I know I can do it. I know I can. I’ve done so well already—”

  “You have failed in your mission,” the Changeling said. “You know the rules. You had until tonight to convince him. And you failed.”

  “Wait,” I said. “The night isn’t over yet! I still have a few more minutes! Please!”

  The creature reached into his pocket and extracted a device, a device that made my skin crawl. I curled up into a tight ball and wept.

  “No!” I screamed. “No! Please! No!”

  No matter how much I begged, no matter how much I pleaded, the Changeling would not bestow me any pity.

  Just as he hadn’t before…

  Two days earlier, I was born.

  At least, it felt that way…

  I bolted upright and breathed in a deep gasping mouthful of sweet oxygen as if I’d just escaped the depths of a cavernous swimming pool.

  I gasped, barely managing to push the breath out before the next one came. I coughed and sputtered, hoping to shift something lodged deep in my throat. But nothing was in my throat. It had simply closed up, turning very narrow as if I’d been in a very deep state of sleep.

  I slapped a hand on the nearest solid surface—a ridge wrapped around me. Was I in some sort of bath? I thought. I curled my humungous thighs over it and fell onto the hard floor.

  Something pressed against my throat.

  Like fingers attempting to strangle me.

  I swiped at them and struck someone’s arms.

  “Get away from me!” I screamed. “Get away!”

  “All right, all right,” a voice said. “No need for the amateur dramatics.”

  I skidded back, got to my feet, and peered at the space around me. My vision was still blurry. I could hardly make anything out, save a bunch of square floating blocks of color.

  The man moved from one side of the room to the other. He wore a square block of white. A doctor’s jacket?

  “You will experience some confusion and a lack of coordination,” the voice said.

  He picked up a metal implement from a side table and put it back down again.

  “But don’t worry,” he said. “It will pass.”

  “A-Are you a d-doctor?” I said.

  “Of a sort,” the man said, moving to another table.

  I couldn’t help but feel a little relieved.

  “What happened to me?” I said. “Where am I? What’s going on?”

  The questions filtered through my mind so fast I could barely keep up.

  “You’ve been through a terrible ordeal,” the man said in his deep, calming voice.

  “Am I in a hospital?” I said. “Did something happen? Was I in an accident?”

  “Try to think back,” the man said.

  Think back…

  Think back…

  What did I remember?

  A bright light, passing through the sky…

  Our minivan careening over a cliff…

  And that flying object behind us—not unidentified—we all knew what it was…

  Me and my friends in the minivan, sailing over the edge, down into the ravine below…

  “I was in a car accident,” I said. “We barely managed to escape… No, wait…”

  The minivan didn’t strike the black rocks below. We froze in midair. It sounded impossible but it was true. Something grabbed hold of us, something inside the light. No, it was the light. It yanked us from our seats.

  And then I flew at a thousand miles an hour up, up, up into the sky and…

  I couldn’t remember anything else. Only waking up in this hospital.

  My shoulders heaved with relief.

  “I thought I was dying,” I said. “I thought I was in hell. Where am I? Are my parents here? I’d like to see them. They’ll be worried about me—”

  “Don’t worry about your parents,” the man said. “I’m sure they’re fine.”

  My eyes were sore and grainy. Each blink wiped my vision clear, sharpening it little by little. Then the man’s face snapped fully into focus.

  Wow, I thought. He’s really handsome.

  You lucked out here, girl!

  No, wait…

  “Has anyone ever told you you look just like George Clooney?” I said.

  “I can’t say they have,” the man said with a grin.

  “You do. Honestly. You look exactly the same.”

  “Huh. And who is this ‘Clooney’?”

  “Only one of the most famous actors in the world,” I said.

  “Does it make you feel uncomfortable for me to have this appearance?”

  “No, not uncomfortable. After all, he is hot. It’s just… a little unsettling.”

  He nodded.

  “I understand,” he said.

  He looked away and then turned back to me.

  My jaw dropped.

  His face had changed, morphed into a man I’d never seen before. He was much older, with thinning hair.

  But the smile was the same. Only now it looked strange and sinister.

  Like a magic trick by a psychopath.

  Suddenly, my sense of panic was rising in my chest again. I staggered into a trolley on wheels.

  “Careful,” Not George Clooney said. “We wouldn’t want you to get damaged, would we?”

  Damaged.

  Not injured or hurt.

  Damaged.

  What did that even mean?

  I surveyed my immediate surroundings. It was a small room, dark, and without windows. Cold and sterile. If this was a hospital, they must have shoved me in the basement.

  With the metal tools on the tabletops, it looked more like a dungeon.

  That’s when I noticed the pod bedside me.

  Pod.

  It sounded like a strange word—it was a strange word—but it described the object perfectly. It was an oblong box with a glowing white lid.

  It was where I’d been sleeping before I woke up.

  I felt sick.

  My eyes went to the doorway and I moved for it.

  Not George Clooney moved with me, waving his arms to either side to block me.

  I squealed and backed away. I was dressed in a paper gown which hospital patients always wore. I suddenly felt very exposed.

  “Take it easy now,” Not George Clooney said, reaching inside his pocket.

  Whatever he was grasping, I was pretty sure I wanted to see it.

  My hands darted to the trolley beside me, to a bunch of tools I had barely even noticed were there. My hands seized the first thing they came to.

  A socket wrench.

  I swung it up and around.

  It struck Not George Clooney on the side of the head. The solid clang would have been funny if my life wasn’t on the line.

  Was my life on the line?

  I didn’t know. And I sure as hell didn’t want to find out.

  I brought the wrench back again but Not George Clooney crumpled to the floor, a dribble of green blood spilling down the side of his face.

  “I-I’m sorry,” I said, and my hands immediately dropped the wrench, as if that would remove any trace I’d been the one to administer the blow.

  Panicked, I backed awa
y and ran for the door.

  It hissed open. I turned one way and then the other. No matter which way I looked, the hallway looked the same.

  Infinite and empty.

  I picked a random direction and tore down the corridor. My bare feet slapped the floor and echoed off the walls back at me.

  “Ergh!”

  The voice echoed up from behind me.

  Not George Clooney held a blood-soaked hand to his head and stumbled into the wall. He made another loud noise.

  “Ergh!” he said.

  He extended his arm in my direction.

  Why? Whose attention was he trying to get? I was the only one there and there was no camera perched on the wall.

  Between us, another door hissed open and a tall figure stepped from it.

  No. That’s not possible.

  It looked like something I once saw in a nature documentary. It peered at the bleeding doctor before turning toward me. Its mandibles twitched and antennae bent in my direction.

  I doubted he was on my side.

  Now it was my turn to scream nonsense words. “Argh!” And I tore down the hall, the creature’s feet—legs?—making loud clicking noises as it bolted after me.

  I didn’t know what that thing was, but it was fast.

  Wicked fast.

  The clicking heels of its feet gained on me.

  I needed a plan. Some way to increase my odds of success.

  But what? I didn’t know this place. I didn’t know where I was. I didn’t know who these guys were or what they wanted with me.

  I only knew I never wanted to learn the answers to those questions.

  I bolted left into a door but it automatically slid aside. I prayed it wouldn’t be a dead-end.

  I turned back and ran my hand over the door panel. A lock! There had to be a lock here somewhere! I brushed a finger over a green light and it flashed red.

  I sure hoped it was the lock.

  I backed away as something thudded on the other side of the door. It jolted in its frame. No way it was going to hold for long.

  But for the moment, I was safe. For the moment, my plan was working.

  Chitter.