Kidnapped by the Alien Dragon

by Ward, Abella

  My mouth watered. He was even better-looking without clothing. Hard, muscular body, with a V in his abdomen that made me want to tug down his boxers and see what it pointed to. At any other time, I wouldn't have minded seeing those delicious abs in full display. Heck, I didn't even mind seeing them right now.

  The problem was that it was already a confusing situation for me. I didn't need my hormones making any more trouble. I tried to stop staring, but with little success.

  "I kissed you because you're hot," he said with a wink. "And since I just rescued you, I thought I might get some hero-worship."

  That stopped my staring. My hands clenched again. "You arrogant son of a—"

  I cut off, tensing. The smell of burning rubber wafted through the trees, accompanied by cigarette smoke and the slow, shuffling footstep of a creature not used to walking on land.

  Chapter Four

  "They're back!" I cried.

  A streak of white flew over our heads as Finvarra pulled me down. He cursed, eyes firing with a deadly light. Strange blue symbols glowed over his skin and a pair of gossamer wings sprouted from his back. My eyes widened, heart hammering.

  "You really are a fairy," I breathed.

  "Sidhe," he corrected and winked. "Stay low. I don't have enough magic to transport us again, but I still have some tricks up my sleeve."

  I nodded, crouching down. More of the leathery, one-eyed beings shuffled through the trees, their faces towards us. A few brandished clubs, others ropes. One pointed at us and made a warbling noise. A bolt of light shot from its webbed fingertips.

  Finvarra pressed a hand to a nearby tree. His eyes flashed green. Vines burst from the tree, wrapping us in a protective circle. White bolts shot towards us, hacking the vines into pieces, coming faster and faster. The trunk of the tree split open. Finvarra thrust me inside, then turned back. He held his hands out like a conductor, then brought them together and pushed out his palms while his torso swiveled and his feet stomped. The vines contorted, whipping over the creatures. One of them threw a knife; it narrowly missed Finvarra's head.

  A screech rose from my throat, inhuman and filled with fury. I threw my arms open wide, feeling a powerful spirit inside me spreading wings. The world grew darker for a moment. I screamed. The ground split, cracking open beneath my feet. Fissures spread all around me, bursting in huge crevices under our enemies' feet. They slowed, primitive weapons raised. There was a moment when everything was silent.

  I threw my hands forward, black streaks bursting from my fingertips. Insatiable rage bubbled up my chest and I wanted nothing more than to see them all dead.

  They turned and fled from me. I pushed the magic further, reaching for them – until Finvarra's arms wrapped around me. He hauled me back. The vines wrapped around us both, hiding the creatures from my view. The sidhe pressed me against the tree, his hands cupping his face. I could hear his voice, but was so wrapped up in my own mind I couldn't understand him.

  Images burst over my vision. Flashes of what felt like dreams: me standing shoulder to shoulder with two others, our fingertips touching as we raised our hands to the sky. Darkness shrouding the sun. Black mists rising among the bloody battle going on below. The soldiers cried out, clutching their heads, then turned and battled one another. My sisters and I laughed…

  "Nikki. Nikki, come back to me."

  Finvarra pressed his mouth to mine. The kiss was like breathing new life into me and another image flashed through my mind; we were tangled together on a grassy knoll, pretty flowers growing all around while his hands coasted over my naked skin, a feeling of warmth and love pouring through me.

  I gasped, shoving the sidhe away. Bile rose in my throat and I stumbled against the tree, retching. My head spun. Finvarra reached for me again, but I wouldn't let him near me. It was true. Everything he said. I wasn't Nikki, the girl who wanted to make everyone around her feel better. I was a goddess of war. Death lingered in my soul.

  No wonder my parents never wanted me.

  "Breathe," Finvarra said. He inched forward, resting a hand on the back of my neck. "Just breathe."

  I wanted to push him away, but his touch was soothing. After several minutes, my breathing came back under control, and nausea stopped swirling. I managed to stagger back to my feet. Finvarra watched me anxiously. I opened my mouth, wanting to ask about the second vision I'd had, but closed it again. There was no way I was going to get tangled up in a romantic situation right now – and if there had been anything between us in the past, it was over.

  "I thought you said they couldn’t find us," I spat at him.

  "They've learned magic," he said, turning away. "This is not good. We were only able to drive them off the first time because they didn't have magic. But if they have it now… What are their plans? And how did they get magic?"

  "Who are they?"

  "Fomorians. Ancient enemies to the Tuatha Dé Danann." He held his hand out to me.

  I pulled back, narrowing my eyes.

  "We were tracked here, and there will be more coming. The safest place for you is among the Daoine Sidhe, in my kingdom. We have powerful magic when we work together."

  'We' as in him and me, or 'we' as in his people? Another wave of nausea passed over me, but I sucked in a deep breath and nodded. Maybe once we were there, I would be able to have some time to figure out what all this meant to me – and where I went from here. What my future was. If I even had a future.

  "I have to call my parents," I mumbled. "I don't want them to worry."

  Finvarra nodded. I patted my skirt for my phone, though my hands trembled so much it took me a moment to find the pocket I had sewn into it. I dialed my parents, ignoring the 'long distance charges' warning. I could taste the chocolate through the phone when Mom answered.

  "Hey," I greeted.

  "Hello, sweetheart. Did you forget something?"

  Forget? Right. I was supposed to be at my internship. I'd have to call them next, tell them I wasn't coming in. But for right now, I needed a reason for why I wasn't coming home tonight. I couldn't tell Mom the truth over the phone.

  "No, I didn't forget anything. I was calling to tell you I've been asked to take a full twenty-four-hour shift here at the hospital." There. That was good enough, right? "I know it's sudden, but I'm going to be able to sit with a patient who has Alzheimer's, and I think it would be really good for me. Sorry I won't be home for supper."

  I held my breath, waiting for the bitter lemon, but the chocolate taste didn't fade. "That's okay, Nikki. I'm so proud of you. Make sure you eat."

  Tears flooded my eyes, and a lump choked me. With life the way it was, sometimes it was hard to remember these little moments when I knew how much my parents cared. I struggled to keep my voice even. "That means a lot to me, Mom. I love you."

  When was the last time I said that?

  "I love you, too. And don't worry, I'm saving plenty of fudge brownies for you when you get home. Actually, maybe I should make another batch just for you."

  My lip wobbled. "I know you're teasing, but that sounds great." If I stayed on the line any longer I'd break down, and she'd know something was wrong. "Well, they need me. I just wanted to let you know I wasn't coming home tonight." Would I ever come home again? "Bye, Mom."

  "Bye, sweetie."

  I hung up my phone. Finvarra laid a gentle hand on my shoulder; I shrugged him off, not wanting to be touched. "Let's go to this underground kingdom of yours."

  "It's not technically—" Finvarra bit his tongue and nodded. "Let's go."

  ***

  Finvarra's hall was nothing I had imagined it to be. I'd read plenty of first-hand accounts about people who supposedly visited Faerie and returned, but this… I expected everything to be bright and joyous, a constant party going on, maybe with a side of orgies. Instead, I found myself in a crumbling hall. There was music playing, but it was the kind of song you listened to when you needed to be sad. Various sidhe sat about the hall on broken steps and beside dry fountains, not doi
ng anything.

  "This is your hall?" I asked Finvarra under my breath. "It's… depressing."

  "I know. It's been this way for a while. The sidhe aren't as happy-go-lucky as people like to pretend. Come.

  He put his hand in mine, and I liked the warmth of it so much I couldn't make myself pull away. Instead, I leaned against him, enjoying the feel of his strength, and let him lead me away. A few sidhe glanced in our direction, but most ignored us.

  Finvarra took me to a room that was almost an exact replica of my room back home. It had the same bed with the log-cabin bedspread, the nightstand with my psychiatry textbooks, the hand-braided rug I made when I was in high school. The biggest difference was it was open to the sky, with a multitude of stars shining down.

  Exhaustion flooded me and I collapsed onto my bed. Finvarra smiled down at me, and I tugged his hand, pulling him down beside me. Just beside it was awkward looking up at him… That was the only reason. Not because I wanted him to put his arms around me…

  "We have to talk," I said decisively. "I'm an ancient part of an ancient trio of war goddesses, and I have freaky powers. I was killed, but how did I end up reincarnating as human? Who was Macha? Is she going to take over my body and destroy me?"

  Finvarra sighed. "No. You are Macha. Your personality isn't just from the experiences you've had as Nikki, but all your past lives."

  "All of them," I repeated. How many were there? "How did I die the first time?"

  "There was a battle, and a Fomorian king, Balor, killed you. You returned in human form. It would have been easy enough for you to shed your mortality and become one of the Tuatha again, but you decided against it. You thought that the Morrigan needed humanity. Compassion. So you chose to stay, to live again and again as a mortal."

  "So I've died a lot."

  He nodded. "We have had this conversation many times. I think after that second death, you lost your memories. Death is traumatic. But you always decide to go back to live another human life. And that's what I—"

  I knew what he was going to say, but I wasn't ready to hear it. I jolted from the bed, startling him. "I'm starving. Do I get a free pass from the whole fairy food thing, since I'm a goddess?"

  "Fairy food thing?"

  "When a human eats fairy food, they're bound to stay in Faerie."

  Finvarra slowly stood. "Right. That thing. Yeah, you get a free pass… But we really should—"

  I shook my head. "I don't want to talk. I want to eat."

  His shoulders slumped, but he nodded. "Okay. Let's go get something to eat."

  Chapter Five

  I don’t know how I slept, but sleep I did. My dreams were full of Finvarra. His hands exploring my body, his mouth on mine, zings of pleasure singing through me. I woke aching for him in a way I had never experienced before. If he had been there, I would have pulled him to bed with me, heedless of the Fomorian attack.

  As it was, though, I managed to get myself back under control by the time he strode through my door, carrying a bowl. I ran my fingers through my black hair, nodding in greeting. My heart was going at it like a bass drum, but I forced myself to remain calm and collected.

  "Okay." I moved over so he could sit beside me. "Now. What questions have I asked that you haven’t answered?"

  Finvarra smirked. His amusement tasted like almonds. I never realized how much I liked almonds until then… I hurriedly shoveled some of the food he had brought into my mouth. Oatmeal. But the best oatmeal that I'd ever had in my life. I gasped in surprise, distracted.

  He curled a strand of hair around his finger. "Shouldn’t you be the one telling me that?"

  About the questions. I shook my head. "Nope. I’m all confused, so it's up to you to tell me what I need to know. About my past and all that."

  He moved back from me, dropping his gaze.

  "Don’t pretend to suddenly be all coy."

  The sidhe glanced up again, eyes dark and smoldering. I was taken aback by the look in them; raw and powerful, with a hesitancy that I didn’t expect. And yet there was also love. No. Lust… it had to be lust, didn’t it? He didn’t even know me.

  Or maybe he did, and I just wasn’t the one who knew him anymore. I shoveled more oatmeal into my mouth, trying to ignore the ache building anew in my core. "Do I always lose my memories when I die?"

  Finvarra shrugged.

  "Thanks." Oops. I meant that to sound more sarcastic. Not sad.

  "I have only found you a handful of times since your second death," he admitted. "But from what I've gleaned, you lost your memories after that death. Sometimes you've regained them, but whenever you die again, you're always born with no memory of your past… or our past."

  The way he said it sent tingles down my spine. I gulped, my heart thudding. "Our past. Meaning what? We were comrades in arms, right?"

  "And…" he took a deep breath and clasped my hand in his. It felt familiar, but unlike when the Fomorians attacked, it wasn't comforting. "We were close."

  I knew what he meant. And even as I snatched my hand from his, two parts of me warred. One part said this was too much, that having a boyfriend I didn't remember on top of being a war goddess and having Fomorians coming after me was just going to destroy me. The other part cheered. If I laid on the bed and pulled him over me, then everything would be alright.

  Except I didn't know him, and I had never had these feelings before. And the circumstances were all wrong. Weren't they?

  He took a deep breath. "I know this is confusion. But Macha—"

  The use of that name was too much.

  I jumped to my feet. "No. I'm not her. There is nothing between us."

  Finvarra flinched. Pain shone from his brown eyes.

  "I'm not her!"

  I fled. Finvarra shouted after me, but I didn’t stop. A wall of thorns sprang to life before me. Without thinking, I threw my arms to my sides and leaped. Black feathers burst from my arms and along my spine. My form shifted, prickles of pain running over my skin as I shifted form. Instinctively, I flapped my wings, and they took me over the thorny fence.

  The stars dimmed as I flew. I didn’t notice as the ground beneath me became jagged and the plants withered away. I closed my eyes, heedless of whatever might lay ahead of me. Our past. He had said our past. We were close. Friends? Lovers? Husband and wife?

  I wanted to go back, to hear what he had to say. To rediscover my past, find a way for it to fit in with my future. He had searched for me all these years. Was it because he loved me?

  But if I went back to him and made love, the past I didn't remember would dictate my future. Who would I be then?

  Something smacked into me, sending me spinning in cartwheels to the ground. Pain jolted up through my wing as I smacked hard into the earth. In a blink, the feathers had retreated and I stared at my arm, twisted into an impossible angle. Nausea swirled through my body, making my vision sway.

  A growl made me turn. A huge shape, twice as big as a double-decker bus, moved towards me. Flames flickered in the dim forest, revealing a narrow, tapered head. Rows of sharp teeth gleamed. My eyes snapped back into focus as I gaped, stunned and horrified. A dragon with a sinewy, snake-like body crept towards me.

  I tried to get to my feet, but white-hot pain shot up my arm and drove me back to knees. The dragon charged. I screamed, throwing my good hand out. A weak fluttering ran to my fingers, a black mist seeping from the ground. The dragon puffed out a single breath of fire, and the mist vanished. It lunged forward, maw gaping wide.

  Before I could work up another scream, a star fell from the sky. At least, that was what it looked like. A streak of bright white, charging towards us. It landed hard on the dragon’s head. The dragon squawked, thrashing its neck side to side.

  I grabbed a tree branch and hauled myself to my feet, cradling my broken arm against my chest. Everything swirled again. When my vision cleared, Finvarra stood against the dragon, a flaming sword his hands. Silver armor reflected back red fire as he dodged among the dragon’s
legs, slicing at its hard scales.

  My heart lurched. A memory of pain slicing through my abdomen bubbled to the surface, of Finvarra's frantic shouts, him fighting against a terrible shadow while my sisters screamed in fury. I shook my head hard, dislodging the memory.

  I had to help him. It was my fault that he was out here, facing off with a dragon. Maybe if I called the magic I'd felt. I lifted my good arm, concentrating on my fingertips. Nothing.

  A howl brought my attention back to the fight. Finvarra drove his sword up the beast's ribs, drenching himself in blood, while the dragon howled and thrashed. It only succeeded in doing more damage to itself. Finvarra withdrew the sword and backpedaled, dashing from the dragon's flailing claws. The great beast shuddered. The flame flickered in its mouth. It collapsed on the ground, wheezing, and the light in its eyes went out.

  Finvarra turned towards me. He pulled off his helmet and dropped his sword, offering a cocky grin. "You fly right into a dragon so I'd have to come rescue you, eh? Still making sure I'm man enough to be worthy of you?"

  I cradled my arm, lightheaded again. "Was that the kind of person I was?"

  The grin slipped off his face. "It was a joke, Nikki."

  Nikki. It was both odd and comforting. I swayed, and when Finvarra hesitantly came towards me, I nodded my permission. He caught me as I collapsed. His worry was like tart pineapple on my tongue. Strange. I never liked the taste of pineapple – it always made me feel lonely. But with him, it tasted… right.

  "Looks like this arm is broken," he murmured, tracing his hands over my skin.

  His touch eased the pain. A white glow expanded over my arm, his brows knit in concentration. I watched as a mottled purple-black bruise pressed its way over my skin, then faded to brown, then green, and finally was gone. When Finvarra removed his hands, the pain was completely gone.

  I swiveled my arm experimentally. It felt as good as new. Better than new, in fact.

  "Wow," I muttered. "Your sidhe magic is pretty strong."