Until Midnight

by Melissa Landers

  “So take it off. Big whoop.”

  “Oh, sure. I’m all about keepin’ it classy like that.”

  “You need to unclench, dorkus. Go to the bathroom and stuff it in your little handbag or something. No one’ll ever know.” With a shake of his head, he added, “Jesus, you’re such a girl.”

  An unexpected glow radiated inside her chest at Troy’s casual insults, and she bit her lip to hide a smile. Yeah, she’d missed this, too. Glancing to the side, she noticed a restroom sign and began to take his suggestion seriously. Maybe it wasn’t that big a deal. Without “support lingerie” sucking in her curves, the dress would fit tighter than a wet suit, but she could live with that.

  “Okay. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  While skirting around the buffet table, Cara caught a whiff of prime rib and her stomach rumbled. Maybe she could manage to eat something after removing the organ grinder panties. She hobbled toward the ladies’ room door, but a middle-aged man wearing a black suit stopped her before she could enter.

  “Sorry, miss,” he said while scanning the room. “You can’t go in there.” He wore an earpiece and touched it as if receiving a message. She glanced at his badge: Secret Service.

  “Why, what’s wrong?” It was getting harder to breathe.

  He continued surveying the ballroom, never making eye contact while he spoke. “The president’s using the facilities. You can’t be inside with her unless you have security clearance. I need you to back up.”

  “How much longer will she be in there?”

  Silence. Still no eye contact. But it made sense that a president who didn’t care about the Constitution didn’t care how long she monopolized the ladies’ room, either.

  “You know where another bathroom is?” she asked, shifting her weight to one hip.

  A soul-piercing glare was his only reply. Tempting as it was to exercise her right to free speech, she held back, remembering her new role as student ambassador. The L’eihr group still huddled nearby, and she didn’t want their first impression of her to be of the psychotic variety.

  So now what? She spun around and looked for an open office or any space that might offer a few seconds of privacy. She spotted a large mural that led into a darkened alcove. It could work if she was quick. Glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching, she strolled into the dim recess.

  Without wasting a second, she kicked off her pumps, hitched up her dress, and hooked her thumbs beneath the stiff elastic waistband. But the spandex didn’t go down without a fight. She jerked and tugged at the stretchy fabric, grunting and swearing quietly to herself for what seemed like an hour. Finally, she rolled the material down over her hips, past her thighs, and stepped free, feeling a breeze of frigid air from a nearby vent raise goose bumps on her naked backside. She was pulling her dress down when she heard muffled laughter from behind. Still barefoot, she gasped and whirled around.

  “Sorry,” said a voice in the darkness. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I only wanted to make my presence known before you removed any more clothing.”

  Cara’s heart pounded against her ribs while she scrambled to pick up her Spanx and cram them inside her purse. She cleared her throat. “I was just…um…really uncomfortable. I’m not taking anything else off.” She slipped her shoes on and backed toward the hallway, feeling her whole body flush red-hot with embarrassment.

  “You don’t have to explain yourself. I’ve come to expect the unusual from humans.”

  The owner of that buttery voice stepped into the light, and Cara stood face-to-face with one of the most stunning individuals she’d ever seen—the missing third student. She clenched her teeth and tried not to gawk, but it wasn’t easy.

  From a distance, he’d seemed unremarkable, but up close, his appearance intimidated her. Taller than any of Midtown’s athletes, his fitted uniform outlined every solid curve of muscle in his chest and arms, the fabric straining visibly against his broad shoulders. One strand of long honey-brown hair had escaped his clasp and fallen against the outside of his angular jaw, and when he glanced at Cara, her stomach dropped to the floor. It was his eyes that’d left her stunned—not brown like the rest of him, but the most exquisite shade of silvery gray. Holy crap, did they selectively breed for looks, too? That just wasn’t natural.

  “S-Sorry you had to see that,” she stammered while stepping out of the alcove. “I don’t usually go commando.” Oh, God, did she just say that out loud?

  He chuckled again, then shrank back as if he’d startled himself with his own laughter. His brows drew together. “It’s none of my concern, Cah-ra.”

  “Uh, I’ll just let you get back to…whatever you were doing.” Which was lurking in the dark like Chester the Molester, but after her display, she could hardly criticize.

  She teetered all the way across the crowded ballroom before she realized he’d called her Cah-ra. If he knew her name, it probably meant the L’eihr she’d flashed was her student ambassador. Awesome. So much for representing America and making a good impression. And so much for convincing Eric to give the LEAP a chance. He’d take one look at Aelyx and start making ultimatums again. Eric didn’t even like it when she hung out with the spindly guys from the Honor Society, so he’d freak when—

  “Took you long enough. You fall in?” Troy interrupted her musings, his face bright with excitement as he gazed over her head, searching for someone. “Where’s the L’eihr ambassador? He’s supposed to take me to my ship.” Troy was practically bouncing in place while her heart sank like a boulder. Another year apart, and he didn’t seem bothered at all.

  “I dunno.” She shrugged. “You say good-bye to Mom and Dad?”

  “Huh? Oh, yeah. They’re by the punch bowl with Colonel Rutter. You’re supposed to go meet up with them.” Troy grabbed her into a crushing bear hug. “H’aleem, Pepper. That’s L’eihr for good-bye.” Then he turned and disappeared into the crowd. Gone without a care, just like always.

  “Love you, too, asshole,” she muttered to herself.

  She released a heavy sigh and made her way to the beverage table to meet her parents. Even from a distance, she noticed Mom’s eyes were puffy and red, but Mom smiled up at Dad while he caressed her arm and kissed her forehead.

  Mom stood on tiptoe and waved to her. “Colonel Rutter went to get our exchange student. Isn’t this exciting?”

  “Yeah,” Cara mumbled while chewing her thumbnail. “I can’t wait.”

  “Here he comes!” Mom bounced the same way Troy had just done, more excited than a kindergartner at snack time.

  It was him, all right. Time for damage control. Pulling her shoulders back, she plastered a confident smile on her face.

  Colonel Rutter began the introductions. “Aelyx, I’d like you to meet the Sweeney family: Bill, Eileen, and Cara. Troy Sweeney’s taking your place on L’eihr.”

  Aelyx shook Dad’s hand and said something in another language—something beautiful and flowing, like a cross between French and Hawaiian. “It’s an honor,” he translated in English.

  “Believe me,” Dad said, practically beaming with pride, “the honor’s mine.”

  Next, Aelyx extended his hand to Mom. “Mrs. Sweeney, thank you for opening your home—”

  Before he could finish, Mom jumped forward and pulled Aelyx into a hug. Cara noticed his back stiffen for several beats too long before he returned the embrace and gave Mom’s shoulder an awkward pat, pat, pat. Either people on L’eihr didn’t hug, or he found humans repulsive. Probably both.

  Finally, he turned to Cara. She offered her hand, and he took it in both of his. While his grasp was warm and strong, there was an eerie vacancy in his gaze, almost robotic. She hadn’t noticed it before, and the last line of HALO’s pamphlet suddenly rang in her ears: He may look human, but he is not. Some long-buried, primal instinct screamed, Danger! but she tightened her grip and resisted the urge to pull her hand free.

  “Cah-ra,” he began. His voice was alluring, but his eyes were dea
d. “Your name is the Irish word for friend. I hope you and I will be great friends.” It sounded rehearsed and completely insincere, almost backhanded in its delivery.

  Her palms were sweaty—there was nothing she could do about that—but she was determined not to let her voice shake. Flashing her most diplomatic smile, she replied, “Your name means ‘son of Elyx,’ which doesn’t give me much to work with, but it’s nice to meet you, too.” At his startled response, she added, “Looks like we both did our homework.”

  He released her hand, stepped back, and didn’t make eye contact for the rest of the night. It was going to be a long plane ride home the next day. And a very long year.

  Prologue

  Cara frowned at the starched gray duffel bag at Aelyx’s feet. It was identical to the one he’d brought to Earth last fall when he’d traveled from L’eihr to stay with her for senior year.

  “We only have a few minutes,” he said, taking her hand in both of his.

  She glanced out the spaceport window to the ship that would jettison Aelyx back to Earth—without her, this time—while she continued on to his planet. A shiver of anxiety skated down her spine. The exchange wasn’t supposed to happen like this, without Aelyx there to guide her. As much as she wanted to go home, that wasn’t an option. The Elders had made their demands painfully clear. Her chest tightened and heat prickled behind her eyes, but she refused to cry. Repairing the alliance between their worlds could save the human race.

  That trumped a broken heart.

  She summoned a smile and met his silvery gaze. If they had only one minute left, she’d make it count. “I love you.”

  The corners of his lips quirked in a grin. “Show me.”

  “I’ve been trying to show you for days,” she said suggestively. “You’d think on a ship this big, we could find someplace to be alone.”

  Her lame joke didn’t deter him. “Do it.”

  “Right here?”

  He checked over both shoulders to ensure no one was watching. “Go ahead. It’s safe.”

  They’d kept her ability to use Silent Speech a secret, but Aelyx made her practice every day. It didn’t come easily. Communicating with her mind was more grueling than advanced trig.

  “But it’s our last minute together,” she objected. “Don’t I get a break?”

  “No.” He took her face between his palms. “Show me.”

  Of course she couldn’t deny him, not when she knew how good it felt to experience his emotions, to know on a cellular level how much he loved her.

  “Okay.”

  Closing her eyes, she pulled in a deep breath and released the tension in her shoulders. Aelyx used his thumbs to lightly brush her temples, helping her relax and reminding her to clear her thoughts. That was the hardest part—banishing her inner voice.

  She rested a hand over Aelyx’s heart, feeling its rhythmic beat against her palm while she focused on the rush of sentiment she felt for him in the moment—attraction, respect, adoration, and, more than anything, need. She let the feelings multiply until she couldn’t contain them any longer, and when she opened her eyes, she channeled her passion through his wide pupils and into the consciousness beyond.

  He felt it—his expression left no doubt. He closed his eyes for a moment as if to savor the sensation, then locked gazes with her. That was amazing, he communicated. You’re getting better.

  “Now it’s your turn,” she said.

  Aelyx tapped her forehead. Ask me the right way. From up here.

  “Slave driver.”

  You’ll thank me one day.

  Cara heaved a sigh and restarted the process of clearing her mind. When she was ready, she gazed through Aelyx’s pupils and formed two simple words in her brain: Your turn.

  But nothing happened.

  Try again, he encouraged.

  She did—three more times—but without success. For whatever reason, she could share her emotions with Aelyx but never her words. But on the bright side, she didn’t get the headaches anymore.

  He caressed her cheek. Be patient and keep practicing. Ask Elle to help you while I’m gone. She should teach you to block your thoughts as well as share them. I trust her, but don’t tell the other clones about your progress…especially not the Elders.

  Just as she opened her mouth to reply, the steely travel band around Aelyx’s wrist buzzed, alerting him that it was time to board. They shared a desperate glance before he pulled her mouth hard against his.

  It didn’t take long for the kiss to transform from benign to scorching—it never did. The signature tingles only he could summon danced across her chest. Cara crushed their bodies together, clinging to his broad shoulders like she could stop him from leaving if she got close enough. But it didn’t last. Just as she captured his lower lip between her teeth, he groaned and broke away.

  “I have to go,” he murmured, tilting their foreheads together. His wristband buzzed again, a final warning before it would heat against his skin and cause him physical pain.

  She pushed his chest, refusing to break down. “Hurry. Before it burns you.” She smiled and added, “I don’t want anything making you that hot unless it’s me.”

  With a grin, he grabbed his duffel bag and jogged across the metal grating that led to the boarding corridor. When he reached the doorway, he stopped and shouted, “I almost forgot. I built a new blog for you, to replace the one Syrine deleted. Same login and password as before.”

  “Thanks,” she called with a wave. “You’re pretty awesome…for an alien.”

  He laughed as he backed into the corridor, leaving her with five final words.

  “Actually, you’re the alien now.”

  Chapter One

  MONDAY, DECEMBER 24

  I’m Dreaming of a Beige Christmas.

  Happy Holidays, earthlings! Welcome to INVADED, your exclusive sneak peek into my one-woman invasion of planet L’eihr. I don’t know how 597,350 of you found my new blog so quickly, but I’m glad you’re here. Pull up a chair, kick off your boots, and grab a steaming mug of h’ali (the closest thing to hot chocolate on this sugar-hating spaceship).

  It’s Christmas Eve, and if the stars align—not to mention the intergalactic transmissions—you should see this maiden post by morning. It’s an icy absolute zero here in space, but we should arrive at my balmy home away from home by lunchtime.

  I have to say, it’s a little weird being one of only two people on this vessel to celebrate Christmas. My new friends think it’s crazy to believe that God’s spirit impregnated a virgin, but they think it’s totally logical to accept that a Sacred Mother birthed six gods and goddesses who created L’eihr from meteor dust and starlight. Because that’s a lot more feasible.

  But I digress. L’eihrs celebrate the birth of their deities each spring, but instead of exchanging presents, they fast for two days to bring them closer to the Sacred Mother by way of collective suffering.

  Talk about bah humbug!

  To all my friends and family back home, guzzle some eggnog for me, and while you’re at it, choke down some fruitcake, too. You’d be surprised how much I miss that stuff…and you. Always you, dear readers.

  Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

  Posted by Cara Sweeney

  No comments had posted, but that didn’t surprise Cara. Sometimes there was a twenty-four-hour delay sending and receiving electronic data from the L’eihr ship stationed above Earth’s atmosphere. Still, that wasn’t too shabby, considering how many galaxies those poor bytes had to travel.

  She pushed aside her brother’s laptop and set her com-sphere on the polished cafeteria table, where Mom and Dad would soon join her for Christmas dinner, hologram-style. Her life felt like a futuristic holiday special: A Very Virtual Christmas. If only she could summon some digital decorations for the ship’s sterile, empty dining hall. It was as festive as a death-row prison cell in here—bare gray walls, rows of meticulously parallel metallic tables and benches, dead silence, and nothing illuminating the darkn
ess but the computer’s backlit screen.

  At three in the morning, not a creature was stirring, not even a harra, the L’eihr equivalent of a mouse. But instead of nestled all snug in her bed with visions of Reese’s Cups dancing in her head, Cara was running on Midtown time, day versus night, waiting for the “phone” to ring. As she often did during these quiet moments, she wondered what Aelyx might be doing in Manhattan.

  It’d only been a week since the L’eihr Elders had sent him back to Earth to help rebuild the alliance, but it felt like a year. Aelyx was the reason she’d left Earth in the first place—so they could build a life together on the L’eihr colony. She never imagined she’d be alone when she glimpsed her new home for the first time.

  Well, not literally alone.

  Her brother, Troy, was here to serve as a human mentor, but truth be told, he was a real horse’s ass—the kind of guy who would point and laugh at her misery instead of warning her not to touch a flesh-eating alien plant…assuming those existed on L’eihr. She hoped they didn’t.

  The sound of dragging footsteps turned her attention to the doorway, where Troy shuffled into view sporting unlaced combat boots and the same rumpled military fatigues he’d worn to bed last night. He yawned loudly, not bothering to cover his mouth, and used both hands simultaneously to scratch his chest and butt.

  Yep, that was her mentor. She was so screwed.

  “They call yet?” he grumbled, taking the seat across from her.

  Cara slid an extra nutrient packet at him. “Merry Christmas to you, too.”

  Instead of answering, he rubbed one eye and plucked his offering from the table. He loved those protein bars, though Cara couldn’t understand why. They smelled and tasted exactly like boiled cabbage.

  “Merry Christmas,” he said eventually. Then followed it with, “Dorkus.”

  Flipping him off didn’t seem very “yuletide gay,” so she rolled her eyes instead. “When are we supposed to shuttle down?”