Alien Prince Charming

by Zara Zenia

  I’d asked around and figured out who all was in the kitchens that night. Sadly, there were several other people who could potentially be his match and the reality burst my bubble somewhat. Why couldn’t I have been the only female in the room that night? Then there would be no question to my being his match.

  Still, If it was meant to end, if I wasn’t the one for him, at least I’d get one more interaction to hold onto when I left. My stomach did a little flip at the idea, and for once, no one hassled me on my way home from the shuttle.

  I walked up the rickety stairwell to our unit, listening to the sounds of poverty around me. Next door, the baby was crying over the din of television. Down the hall, the sound of shouted obscenities was punctuated by broken glass. Or maybe that was upstairs. It was impossible to tell which direction it came from when there was chaos and misery everywhere you looked.

  No wonder I always wanted to escape reality and blur the lines of my life so that I lived in a somewhat fantasy world. It must have been a survival tactic of my mind, where it shut itself off when there was turmoil around me.

  It was a far cry from the idyllic, rambling old farmhouse I’d grown up in, where Corinne and I had been born. Mom and Dad were both teachers, and while they placed a high value on learning, they raised us on the outskirts of the municipality, saying the best things for us were fresh air and space to roam, to explore.

  There was a small creek that ran behind the house and an apple tree that grew heavy every year with the fruit. I’d swim in the creek when the air was thick with heat and mosquitoes, and in the fall, when the apples were full and juicy, we’d gather them up and bake pies.

  It had all been destroyed in a siege when I was eight, though, and now it was all a pile of ash. As ugly as anything here in the refugee precinct.

  I yearned to have those times back. If I could only bite into a juicy, ripe, delicious apple one more time. If only I could run through the yard, giggling as the soft grass tickled my ankles and the gentle breeze billowed through my hair. It seemed like a million years ago, or even worse, that I had dreamed it all and had never experienced it in real life.

  For years, I’d repressed all that pain. I didn’t have time to deal with the loss, so I pushed it into a box and set it aside. Now, it almost felt like it had happened to someone else. I wasn’t that innocent girl anymore and I never would be again. Times had changed. My demeanor had toughened. I’d survived against all odds, and it was my responsibility to ensure that Corinne did the same.

  But, a tiny voice said, maybe I could still be happy. Perhaps there was some quiet and peaceful life out there, just waiting for me to find it.

  I unlocked the door and went into our apartment, surprised the lights were all out. Everything was quiet and undisturbed. It was entirely unnatural. I reached out and waved my hand in front of the motion activation panel.

  Nothing.

  Had Corinne had another bad migraine? She had lessons today, but maybe she’d come home early and deactivated the lights. I knew bright lights tended to make her headaches worse. I searched my mind, trying to remember if she’d ever meddled with the lights before.

  “Corinne?” I whispered.

  Silence greeted me and gave me an ominously eerie feeling that prickled against my skin.

  I stepped toward the wall to manually raise the lights and felt the sickly, unnatural crunch of glass underfoot. The sound sliced through my heart and I briefly froze like a deer in headlights.

  My blood cooled in my veins and I felt the familiar rush of adrenaline course through me. On my own for so long, I had developed something of a sensitivity to danger. Threats often lurked in the dark, ready to pounce on the vulnerable.

  I rushed to the wall then and pressed against the manual electrical control, but the light barely sparked to life. The overhead light source flickered, half dislodged from the ceiling, revealing a scene that sent chills of fear racing through me. I held my breath and waited. If there were an attacker here, they would be ready to pounce. More importantly, where was Corinne?

  The place was trashed. But more alarming, from what I could see, the few possessions that might be considered of value to someone desperate enough were still in place. Why would someone rip through here like a tornado but take nothing?

  The only thing missing, I realized as my eyes nervously surveyed the disorder, was Corinne. My throat stifled a scream. Panic ensued, shattering me to the bone.

  Had someone followed her? The creep who had harassed me the day before, maybe? Bile rose in my throat at the thought, strangling the scream that wanted to escape. My breath came in uneven, raspy batches.

  I was half tempted to march onto the street and track the bastard down, but some small fraction of reason was still in control. The reality was that I had absolutely no idea what had happened. I didn’t owe any money to the local ‘protection’ posse, and as far as I knew, Corinne kept to her studies and didn’t have any enemies. Who had broken in? Perhaps it was the wrong apartment, meant for someone else?

  I reached for my phone quickly and started to call the authorities. Dread filled me. Emergency services were known to brush off reports of violence or criminal activity in our precinct as par for the course. If they responded to every single complaint, they’d never have time to do anything else. Still, it was my only hope. I had to report it, and my sister as missing.

  Suddenly, a phone began to buzz on the counter, a phone I didn’t recognize. A number I didn’t know displayed, and I answered without hesitation, holding the phone to my ear and waiting. My ears prickled with dread as I waited expectantly for a voice to come through.

  “You like my redecorating?” My heart stilled. It was Darla’s voice. “I thought it was an improvement, but then, can you really dress trash up as anything else?” Her sinister laugh snickered coolly through the phone. Anger boiled my veins and nearly incinerated them.

  “Where is she?” I demanded, even though my voice came out more broken than I wanted it to.

  I didn’t want to reveal that I was rattled, not in the slightest. If Darla knew I viewed her as a threat, she would have the upper hand. I didn’t care what she did to my apartment. She could burn the damn thing down, for all I cared. I just wanted the assurance that my sister was safe.

  She laughed, the cold sound sending spirals of terror through me. “Suddenly not so lippy, are you?”

  I didn’t answer, just waited, heart in my throat. I didn’t want to move or breathe until she returned my sister.

  “Corinne is fine. I have her somewhere safe. For now.” Her tone was abstract, unrevealing.

  “What do you want? Just tell me what I need to do—” I started. I hated the fact that I was begging, but I had no choice.

  Darla cut in. “I want you gone.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, confused. I shook my head as hot tears stung my eyes and blurred my vision.

  “You’ll get your sister back as long as you do everything I tell you to. First off, you’re quitting. Bon voyage and all that shit. You’ll hand in your resignation tomorrow. You’ll tell everyone that another opportunity came up that was better for your family. Any questions, you answer them with something vague.” Her tone was threatening as if there was no room or option for me to debate or protest her demands in any way.

  “I . . .” I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing myself to think only about Corinne. Nothing else mattered. Sacrifices would have to be made in order for her safe return. “Okay. I’ll do it. Is that all?”

  “No. You’re not to reach out to the prince, at all, ever again. Do that, and you’ll get Corinne back, unharmed.” Her tone was so icy that it made me shiver.

  There it was. the condition that knocked the wind out of me. I retched, but there was no food in my stomach to spew. I doubled over in pain.

  It took a moment, but I finally answered. “I’ll do anything. Just, please, don’t hurt Corinne.”

  “Well, we’ll see how well you keep your word, won’t we?” she hi
ssed with a devilish laugh that made my bones tingle. She was cold and calculated, but I had no choice but to adhere to her instructions if I ever wanted to see my sister alive again.

  The line went dead then, and I collapsed, horrified at the nightmare that had just swallowed me up. Choking sobs ravaged me and shook through my entire body. My shoulders went limp. My eyes were puffy and swollen. Eventually, I fell asleep, but the nightmare never left me. Even with sleep, I couldn’t escape the harsh reality that was swirling around me.

  Chapter 9

  Gardax

  “Your breakfast, Your Highness.”

  I looked up from my reading to see a familiar face, but it wasn’t Amy’s. My heart had fluttered expectantly, but it wasn’t her dreamy voice cooing seductively through my ears. It wasn’t her cream-colored face and piercing eyes that stared through me. Disenchantment flared my nostrils.

  I swallowed my disappointment and asked, “Has Miss Allen’s reassignment gone smoothly?”

  “Miss Allen?” the maid asked. “Oh! Amy? My apologies, Your Highness. No, Your Grace, she quit this morning.”

  The words struck me with unexpected force. I had to quickly recover so this person in front of me wouldn’t see my emotions.

  “She quit?” I repeated, the question feeling bitter in my mouth. I swallowed hard and tried not to engulf myself in the sea of yearning that I felt for Amy. I didn’t even realize how much I was consumed by her until I realized she was gone.

  “Yes, Your Highness, just a short time ago.” The maid seemed confused by my line of questioning.

  I started to rise. “So, she’s still here?” I wasn’t about to let her get away without an explanation. I needed more information. I needed to know a reason why. I had to find the source of why my heart ached and throbbed as if something had been ripped away from me, something I craved.

  “Don’t think so. She seemed to be in something of a hurry. Besides, I’m sure Darla made quick work of the matter,” she said in a way that harkened to Amy’s earlier comment about her supervisor’s terrible personality.

  A light bulb went off in my mind. “How do you know this?” I asked, stepping forward. I narrowed my eyes suspiciously.

  The maid looked suddenly uncomfortable. She shifted her weight as if she were paranoid that she might reveal too much. “Well, we rode the shuttle in together this morning.”

  “Did she say why?” I pressed. I wasn’t trying to rattle this particular maid, but I was desperate for answers.

  She looked contemplative, scrunching her face. She was older, with a kind, gentle face. She had that maternal warmth about her, like she would be the type to wear an apron and tell funny stories while she stirred a warm pot of soup on the stove.

  “Ehm. well, now that you ask, she didn’t give a clear answer. Something about a job opportunity she couldn’t turn down, good thing for her family or some such. She’s got a little sister, you know. She’s a good girl, Amy,” she said, chatting more casually now that she realized I wasn’t interrogating her.

  “Yes, I know. Did she say where she was going to work?” I leaned closer and held my breath, hoping this woman would at least be able to point me in the right direction with her information.

  “No. I can’t say she mentioned it. Can’t say it’d be hard to find a better position though,” she started to say, as if partially to herself, before remembering where she was. “Oh! I didn’t mean any offense, Your Highness. I just mean her supervisor. Well, she’s a real battle-axe.” She frowned as if she were afraid to divulge any other clues.

  She proceeded to lift the lids off the many plates of food, the smell rising to tempt me but doing nothing to distract from the overwhelming disappointment that rocked me. I couldn’t see straight. My vision clouded and all I wanted was to know where Amy went and the reason for her hasty disappearance.

  “Is there anything else I can get for you, Your Highness?” she asked politely, oblivious to my distress. Her smile was warm and genuine.

  “No.” I shook my head. “That’ll be all, thank you.” I gave her a wan smile, but I was so distracted I hardly noticed her standing there anymore. My head was numb.

  As soon as she left, I started making calls. First, to Amy’s phone. Pick up. I mentally tried to send her telepathic waves. Please. Pick up the phone.

  But every call went unanswered, and I racked my brain, wondering what had happened and finding no reasonable explanation. Granted, I didn’t know Amy that well yet, but something told me she wasn’t the type to intentionally avoid my calls unless something was terribly amiss.

  I needed answers. Something wasn’t sitting well with my psyche about this situation. It was like that natural instinct that kicked in to alert your mind that something wasn’t adding up.

  Unfortunately, Coel didn’t have them for me. He was as surprised by her resignation as I was.

  “I am notified of any changes in staffing and I haven’t received any information from her superior,” he started with a quizzical and perplexed tone.

  “Darla! Yes, that’s right, her supervisor. Check in with her and see if she has a way to contact Amy. I want to know what’s going on,” I directed him, not caring if I sounded desperate.

  Coel nodded and headed out, already determined and on a mission.

  Frustrated, restless, I paced the great hall. It was foolish, but if she was still there, it seemed like the best place to run into her. I ran a shaky hand through my dark hair. I wasn’t used to being so affected by a woman of any kind. I needed to make sure that Amy was safe, at the very least. I wouldn’t rest until I had that reassuring information.

  I looked down through the transparent floor beneath my feet at the city below, wondering where she was down there, wondering what was going on in her mind. I didn’t know her well, that was true, but I knew enough to know that I hadn’t imagined the attraction between us. Maybe I had responded to her more than she had to me, that was possible, but I knew it wasn’t entirely one-sided. The heat and chemistry radiated between us. The vibrations were hard to deny.

  “Your Highness!” A voice came from behind me and I spun around. The voice sounded squeaky and frantic.

  It was the woman who had confronted me in the kitchens, Darla. “Mrs. Barnaby,” I said, acknowledging her with a swift nod.

  She came closer, uncomfortably close. “I understand you’re trying to track down Amy Allen?” Her eyebrows were raised, and her expression was that of a shark hunting its prey. I took a step backward.

  “Yes. Yes, I am. Do you have some way to reach her?” I asked eagerly. It might have occurred to others to mask their emotion, but I’d never mastered the art nor had any interest in doing so. I was an open book. I told it like it was, regardless of how it made others feel inside.

  Her face broke into a smile that seemed completely out of place on her and insincere. Her expression was wild, almost wicked.

  “I do, Your Highness. She left me a number for her new place, she said, in case anyone wanted to reach out to her. She thought that might be the case,” she said, handing me a slip of paper before continuing on, “Put me in quite a lurch, you know, but she was bound and determined that she couldn’t work here another day.” She scoffed in a feigned resentful way and waved her bony hand through the air.

  The writing was sloppy and difficult to read, but I pulled my phone out and dialed the number, not really listening to Darla’s continued chatter. I didn’t care what she had to say. I just wanted to hear Amy’s voice, to know that she was okay.

  “This line has been disconnected. Please try again or contact Union Star Communications at 1-700—” I hung up and tried again, shaking my head with increasing frustration.

  Over and over, the same message. It was mocking me and taunting me. My throat was closing in, making it difficult to swallow and draw in a breath.

  I didn’t understand. Had I offended her? I looked through the messages we had exchanged the day before. Had I said something wrong? Did I misread her responses? I had tho
ught she understood my playful tone. was I mistaken? Had I offended her? I had a million questions racing through my brain and no answers to pacify my shrieking mind.

  I slumped back against the wall, replaying our conversation. My mind was trying to pick at the tiny fibers in the tangled web of confusion. What had I done to make Amy retreat like this?

  “No answer?” Darla asked, coming close again and putting an ice-cold hand to my arm. The contact felt wrong and I tried to politely pull away without giving any emotion away that her cold touch repulsed me and felt violating.

  “No. it seems the number isn’t in operation,” I answered, then looked to her, wondering what she knew. “Did she say anything to you about being unhappy here?” My voice was robotic.

  She brushed a stray lock of pale blonde hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear as she looked up at me with a certain sparkle that sent warning flags flying in my mind. Something sinister was twirling in her brain.

  “She didn’t say much, but she must be out of her mind. You know, I hope I don’t sound too forward, but just between us, I don’t know what she could possibly have been unhappy about. This place, this job. You. Well, I’m sure you don’t need to be told, but you’re a dream come true.” She giggled but it came out sounding more like a cackle from a deranged animal.

  My throat felt dry. I didn’t want to accept these compliments from her. She was definitely not the person I wanted to hear say these things. Besides, wasn’t she married? Why was she acting so flirtatious with me? Why didn’t she care more about Amy’s whereabouts? More importantly, would she not have to know exactly where she had gone?

  “Right, well if you hear from her, please let my security team know. It’s very important that I speak to her. I appreciate your assistance, Mrs. Barnaby.” I left an emphasis on the subtle fact that she was married.

  Her shrewd eyes flickered with irritation. “I doubt I’ll hear anything from her. She got what she could out of this position.” Her expression softened, and in a voice probably meant to sound wise but that came across as cruel and biting, she added, “I’m sure you’re not used to dealing with such low classes of people, but Amy is a certain sort of person. She came from the gutter, and no matter what she does, she’ll end up right back there. It’s just where she belongs.”