The Complete Alien Apocalypse Series (Parts I-IV Plus Bonus Novella): An Apocalyptic, Romantic, Science Fiction, Alien Invasion Adventure

by JC Andrijeski

  They could survive outside the Green Zone dome.

  Maybe that was all it was.

  Maybe they just looked like they could take care of themselves.

  Many had come without Nirreth owners.

  Even so, Jet got the sense they were more than willing to hook up with the several dozen unpaired Nirreth who also showed up, and they definitely appeared to be comfortable getting stung by the right one.

  In fact, a lot of them seemed to be there looking for Nirreth companionship, if only for the evening.

  A number of those same humans looked Trazen over, Jet couldn’t help noticing.

  She suspected some of them recognized him from broadcasts around the Rings, and for the first time it really sank in that Trazen was a celebrity, too.

  He was definitely more of a celebrity than Laksri had been, prior to his being named First Son. Until recently, Jet always thought of Trazen as a kind of human-hating bully, if not an outright psychopath and a killer.

  It hadn’t really occurred to her that he would have his own fan club.

  It also hadn’t occurred to her that he’d have a lot of humans throwing themselves at him, simply because of his status as Ringmaster.

  Well, she thought, looking over his body and face.

  Maybe not only for that reason.

  He’d always struck her as disturbingly good-looking for a Nirreth, even from the first time she’d laid eyes on him. Now that she’d adjusted to seeing their features and bodies that way, the difference between him and other Nirreth was even more striking.

  His gold-flecked and gold-ringed irises held an intensity she couldn’t help but find fascinating, and while she knew some of that was the venom, that wasn’t all of it.

  His face had always struck her as handsome.

  He had a well-formed mouth and jaw, symmetrical features, unusually striking eyes, high cheekbones, a strangely-perfect mouth. That, coupled with a muscular body, nicely-shaped arms and legs, and deep-blue skin that shimmered under the dimmer lights of the warehouse-like space, definitely made him stand out, even at a party.

  Even at night, where it was harder to see.

  He also carried himself as a fighter, which seemed to be an attraction for human females no matter what the race of the male.

  Either way, Jet noticed more and longer stares aimed at Trazen than at her.

  She got some jealous scowls, too.

  More than a few females and at least one male frowned pointedly at the pendant Trazen wore on the copper-colored chain, right before they stared aggressively at her. She saw a number of them studying her face with shrewd eyes, as well, likely noting the lack of venom in her and speculating as to what it meant.

  Plenty of Nirreth and humans recognized Jet too, of course.

  She got a few requests for autographs, and a few Nirreth males watched her with swishing tails, studying her face for signs of venom.

  But it wasn’t the normal center crowd, Jet couldn’t help thinking.

  No one rushed her, or tried to take clippings of her hair, or touched her inappropriately. No one tried to touch either of them until she and Trazen approached the bar, and then it was a human rubbing up against Trazen, smiling into his face.

  “Looking for fresh blood tonight, Ringmaster?” the dress-wearing girl asked.

  She looked young to Jet, even younger than her, so maybe seventeen.

  She also wore a lot of make-up, and shoes so high they made her balance teeter. From the glassiness of her possibly contact-colored eyes, she was at least a little drunk.

  Jet stiffened when the girl smirked at her blatantly, pressing deeper into Trazen’s side before she looked back up at him.

  Trazen didn’t move out of the way, Jet noticed.

  “Well?” the girl slurred, batting her eyelashes at him. “What do you think, Ringmaster?”

  Jet fought not to roll her eyes.

  She directed her words at Trazen, disentangling his hand from her arm. “I’m getting a drink. Do you want anything?”

  Looking over, he narrowed his eyes at her, flicking his tail behind him before he wrapped it around her waist.

  “I’ll come with you,” he said.

  She didn’t answer, but felt her jaw harden.

  She was surprised to feel Trazen’s tail tighten around her. He didn’t speak until they’d walked away from the girl.

  “Are you jealous?” he said, his voice neutral.

  She looked over, fighting not to snap at him.

  Forcing herself silent when she saw the scrutiny in his eyes, she shrugged.

  “Hardly. I’m just not in the mood to watch.”

  When she met his gaze next, he frowned at her, pulling her closer to him with his tail.

  “Are you telling the truth?” he said.

  “Do you want me to be jealous?” she returned shortly, glancing down at his tail before she looked up at him again. “I thought you were doing the First Son’s bidding these days? Doesn’t that make me off-limits?”

  She knew Trazen would know which First Son she meant.

  Even so, she was startled at the anger that hardened his expression. He released her with his tail before she’d recovered from her surprise at the intensity she saw in his dark eyes.

  “Why are we here, Jet?” he said, his voice cold.

  “I thought you wanted to come,” she said.

  He just looked at her for a moment.

  Then he exhaled loudly, ending on a near-growl.

  Before she could say anything more, he walked away from her, lashing his tail behind him as he aimed his feet for the table where they seemed to be serving drinks.

  Before Jet could decide if she should follow him, someone grabbed her arm from the other side. Whoever it was, they grabbed her strongly enough, Jet tensed.

  It hit her, some part of her was waiting to die.

  Some part of her was waiting for Isreti’s people to appear out of nowhere, shove her into a van, sting her and hurt her until she was dead.

  For the same reason, when those fingers gripped her arm, it wasn’t fear Jet felt. It was dread, it was fear, but more than that, it was a heavier kind of inevitability.

  It was a sinking pain that she knew it was coming.

  Even so, her instinctive reaction wasn’t to submit.

  Like she had earlier that day, Jet fell into a near fighting stance, even before she turned her head. Also like she had earlier that day, she pulled back that impulse to fight, to defend herself, as soon as focused on the face looming over hers.

  “Whoa there, cowgirl,” Tyra said, grinning. “What’s the haps?”

  Jet lowered her fists, staring.

  Then, unable to help herself, she burst out in a laugh.

  10

  You Don’t Know Much, Do You?

  Jet almost hadn’t recognized her friend.

  Most of it was the clothes.

  Tyra still looked like Tyra––only Tyra wearing a lot of make-up and a short, shimmery dress, blood red in color, with matching heeled shoes, a red stone necklace, and gold rings. Jet stared at that profusion of color.

  Then, after a blink, made out her friend’s stunning eyes and the shape of her smile, even under dark red lipstick.

  When Jet laughed, Tyra’s smile widened.

  “Damn, you’re jumpy,” Tyra said, grinning at her. “Second time today. Only in the arena, I really thought you were going to hit me. I fully expected you to punch me in the face.”

  Her grin widened as she nudged Jet’s arm.

  “…You must be feeling more mellow tonight.”

  Without waiting, she handed Jet a drink, a pale blue, frothy thing that Jet recognized.

  It was some kind of frozen berry concoction mixed with water and a few other juices, but the Nirreth fermented the berries, turning it into a strong wine.

  “Thanks,” she muttered, flushing.

  Tyra waved her off with a grin.

  “I’ve got to play the host a little bit, right? I invited you.�
�

  She looked Jet over as Jet took a sip of the frothy blue drink. When Jet lowered the glass, coughing at little at how strong it was, Tyra smiled again, whistling softly.

  “Damn, girl. You clean up good. Better than a sense-suit.”

  Jet glanced down at her clothes, folding her arms self-consciously without letting go of the glass. She’d worn a dress, one almost as short as the one Tyra wore, although Jet’s was sky blue and slightly less form-fitting than the other Ring fighter’s. Jet also wore make-up, although she’d almost forgotten about it since they’d gotten here.

  “Yeah, well,” Jet said, forcing a smile. She lifted the glass in a mock toast, taking another sip of the blue liquid. “It’s a party, right?”

  “Is Trazen here?” Tyra said.

  Lowering her glass a second time, Jet glanced up as a male Nirreth sidled up to Tyra.

  It took her a few seconds to recognize him as Anslom.

  She hadn’t seen him outside of training arena before either, and looking him over now in a dark purple, velvet-textured tunic and black leggings, she realized he was another good-looking male Nirreth. The fact had escaped her before now.

  Probably because it hadn’t occurred to Jet to notice.

  She’d been a little too preoccupied by not dying.

  “Hey, eyes to yourself,” Tyra said, nudging Jet playfully.

  Despite the teasing tone, Jet heard a real warning in her words.

  Before she could decide how to react, Anslom wrapped his tail around Tyra’s waist, purring in his chest. The sound carried flavors of humor and desire, both prominent enough that Jet averted her gaze, refolding her arms tighter.

  Taking another drink of the blue liquid, she fought with whether to apologize, confused by the idea for some reason.

  In the end, she decided to ignore it.

  “He’s here,” she said, answering Tyra’s question belatedly.

  She scanned faces in the crowd, if only for an excuse to look away from Tyra and her Nirreth boyfriend, who were now looking at one another and probably talking via the venom. Tyra had at least a few good stings in her system, given how glassy her eyes were.

  Tyra carried a drink of her own, too, something that looked alcoholic, although it wasn’t blue like the one she’d given Jet.

  Neither of them looked over at Jet’s words.

  Jet glanced in the direction she’d last seen Trazen, still fighting discomfort.

  “He’s over there, I think,” she said, motioning vaguely with the hand holding the glass.

  She craned her head, right before she took another sip of the blue drink.

  “Probably surrounded by his groupies,” she muttered.

  Tyra laughed, finally looking over.

  “Someone’s jealous,” she smiled. “Is that why you were scoping my guy?”

  “I wasn’t scoping,” Jet mumbled, feeling her face grow hotter.

  Tyra bumped her with her arm, laughing.

  “Don’t worry, honey. I’ve seen who you stare at. Just like I’ve seen who stares at you.” Her eyes grew shrewder, more skag-like. “I guess you got over your other boy, eh? Laks? Not like you had much choice.”

  Jet felt her scowl deepen.

  “Hey, hey. Just giving you a hard time,” Tyra laughed. “I know how it is.”

  “No,” Jet said, giving her a stare. “You don’t.”

  Tyra nodded in a diplomatic way, but continued to smile, her eyes holding a knowing look that irritated Jet even more. Before she could decide what to say, she saw Tyra’s gaze refocus, staring at someone who stood behind Jet, in the direction of the drink dispenser.

  “Not that I blame you on the Trazen front,” Tyra murmured. “He’s not bad to look at, is he? Clearly, we’re not the only two who think so.”

  Anslom let out a low growl at Tyra’s words.

  Jet barely heard that, though.

  She’d already followed the other woman’s stare.

  She found Trazen on the other end of the service area, closer to the pool… looking a lot less annoyed than the last time she’d seen him.

  His jointed fingers wrapped around a squat glass, although his was filled with a pale green liquid rather than the blue one Jet held.

  She watched him bow slightly to the person who’d just approached him, one of those subtle Nirreth smiles on his narrow lips. Trazen didn’t move away when that same person embraced him. Moving his hand with the glass out of the way to keep from spilling it, he coiled his other hand into her hair, stroking it before he let go.

  Jet focused on the woman there as her jaw hardened.

  Something about her was almost… familiar.

  Obviously Trazen knew her, but Jet found herself thinking she might know her, too. She had trouble placing that familiarity, though.

  “Shall we go interrupt?” Tyra said, her voice holding that knowing smile again.

  “No,” Jet said.

  Tyra laughed, but Jet didn’t look over.

  Knowing she’d already been caught staring, she also didn’t bother to look away.

  Instead, she fought to keep her expression neutral while her eyes remained on Trazen and the woman clutching his arm. She couldn’t help noticing that the blond-haired woman wore a short dress as well, one shorter than hers and dark green. Her dress was low-cut in the back, baring her unmarked skin nearly to the base of her spine.

  Unlike most of the women here, she didn’t look like a fighter.

  She didn’t even look much like a skag.

  The woman smiled as she talked to him, her hand small and pale on his dark arm.

  “No,” Jet said again, her voice more subdued. She gave Tyra a taut smile. “He doesn’t get out much. We should leave him alone.”

  Even to her, her voice sounded cold.

  “So?” Tyra said humorously. “Why do you think you’d be bothering him exactly, Jet? Why would he mind his companion approaching him?”

  Jet looked back at Trazen and the strange woman, even as it hit her suddenly why she recognized her.

  She had seen her before.

  In fact, she’d seen her with Trazen.

  Jet remembered her now. She remembered the woman’s face and body from one of those expensive-seeming restaurants in the center, probably an outing following one of her Rings matches. It might even have been the first time she’d met Trazen… officially, at least. Or maybe it was the second or third time.

  Pretty much every time she saw him in those restaurants, he was draped in venom-drunk women, most of them wearing barely-there costumes.

  In any case, it had been a while ago now.

  It was definitely back when she still was still owned by the Royals.

  It was surprising, really, that Jet remembered any of Trazen’s consorts from back then, that she’d looked at any of them closely enough to tell them apart. All of them had been beautiful. All of them had been stoned to the gills on his venom. All of them had their hands all over him, including on his groin, at least one time Jet saw. All of them wore the minimal amount of clothing they could get away with, and still be deemed socially acceptable.

  For the same reason, it was hard to remember particulars on which time it had been that Jet saw this one.

  She was fairly certain she had, though.

  She recognized her wide eyes, even if the woman had changed a lot.

  Also, although Jet didn’t remember the exact timing of their first meeting, she remembered this woman for another reason. She’d been high on venom of course, but under that, Jet remembered thinking she looked deeply unhappy.

  At the time, Jet assumed Trazen was the source of that unhappiness.

  Watching her chatting away with Trazen now, her hand wrapped affectionately around his muscular arm, she had her doubts.

  Hell, she almost couldn’t believe it was the same person.

  “Didn’t they used to…” Jet began. Realizing she’d spoken aloud, Jet frowned, shutting her mouth even as she glanced at Tyra.

  “…Do you
recognize her?” she amended, taking another drink from her glass. “That woman he’s with?”

  Tyra shrugged, taking a sip of her own drink, sucking up the ruby-red liquid through a straw she held between two fingers. Jet noticed only then that Anslom had wandered off, and now stood talking to two other Nirreth.

  “I don’t know her,” Tyra said, swallowing the liquid she’d pulled into her mouth. “Why? Is she one of his orphans?”

  Jet tensed, right before she jerked her eyes off Trazen.

  She looked at Tyra, fighting the frown out of her voice.

  “Orphans?” she said. “What does that mean?”

  Tyra smiled, shaking her head perceptibly, a small smile teasing her lips. “Don’t tell me you believe his center shtick? I thought you were supposed to be smart, Tetsuo.”

  “Shtick?” Jet pronounced the word carefully. “Is that a Nargili word?”

  Tyra shook her head, rolling her eyes a little.

  “Trazen’s got to keep up appearances too, you know,” she said. “Part of that is being a badass, given who and what he is. Part of being a badass is having little regard for life, especially human life.”

  Tyra shrugged, motioning around the lawn with her fingers clutching the straw.

  “Out here, a lot of people know the truth. Being a decent person doesn’t have the same stigma out here. The opposite, really.”

  “The truth?” Jet continued to stare at her blankly. “The truth about what?”

  Tyra sighed, her voice almost impatient. “You really don’t know?”

  “No,” Jet said, fighting the edge creeping into her voice. “Are you going to tell me what you’re talking about? Or not?”

  Tyra exhaled, her eyes still holding a faint impatience.

  “Trazen,” she said, motioning in his direction with her fingers. “He buys humans, Jet.”

  Jet frowned. “Well, obviously I know that––”

  “No,” Tyra said, cutting her off and shaking her head. “I don’t mean as slaves. He buys them away from other Nirreth. It’s like a pet project of his.”