Alien Tails Box Set

Chapter 3

Chapter 3Zenon cut through the atmosphere and left the planet behind. It was easier to breathe now that they were on the way. The male wouldn’t get off the ship, and there was no going back.

“Captain.” Brox appeared in the doorway.

“Yes.”

“There’s been an incident.”

He put the ship on autopilot and turned to Anek who was in the co-pilot seat. “Monitor.”

Anek confirmed he’d heard the order, and Zenon got up to deal with whatever had Brox interrupting his work.

“In the clinic.”

The clinic on the ship wasn’t like a clinic on Negudade. It was a cot, and they had some tools to treat injuries, not much else. “What happened?”

“The male is sick.”

“Sick?” Did he also have water coming out of his eyes now?

“He is vomiting, and his mate is trying to care for him.”

Mate? Zenon kept moving as if Brox hadn’t spoken, but he wanted to hit something. “Why do you need me? Ghurva is there.” Ghurva was far better equipped to deal with a mated couple. Zenon had never met a mated couple, he’d only heard tales about it.

“Yes, but we might have to euthanize him. What if it’s contagious? We can’t risk him infecting the females.”

The tightness around his ribcage was there again. What if the male had infected him? Poisoned him? He hadn’t touched him skin to skin, but perhaps he had some defense Zenon hadn’t seen before.

Zenon didn’t respond. What was there to say?

They entered the clinic and Zenon almost winced at the stench. What was it? Poison?

Brox nodded and left.

The female they’d apprehended together with the male sat on the cot, touching his arm while staring at Ghurva. Not only staring. Zenon had never seen someone look as angry as she did. He studied her to see if she’d grown fangs. No. Claws? No. And there were no spikes coming out of her skin or any visible poison.

“What’s going on?” He directed the question to Ghurva, but it was the female who responded.

“Carlo has a concussion because some f*****g brute hit him in the head.” Those hostile eyes turned to him. “He needs to be looked after.”

Zenon tried to make sense of what she said. What was Carlo, f*****g, brute, and concussion? He understood she believed he—the male, he assumed—needed to be looked after. “Is it contagious?”

“Are you deliberately stupid?” He would have called what she did snarl, but there were still no teeth to make it look threatening, so he didn’t know if it qualified as a snarl.

Zenon turned to Ghurva. “What does he need?”

“Peace and quiet, and someone who looks after him. It’s not safe for him to sleep with his brain swelling. He can’t see well, and he might be sick again.”

Ghurva looked at the female and then Zenon. “I don’t know.”

“Well, I know!” She was snarling, Zenon couldn’t find any other word fitting for the way she made her face appear. Mated individuals were willing to do whatever they could to defend their mates. The tales told them there was nothing more dangerous than a mated male, but the females could be dangerous too.

Zenon waited a heartbeat to see if she’d attack, but while those strange pale eyes were locked with his, she did nothing to leave the male’s side. “He needs a shower and new clothes.”

Zenon looked at Ghurva again. He wanted to ask if it was safe to touch them, but he couldn’t with them listening.

“Are you deaf?” Now the female stood, and while Zenon didn’t move, he prepared to fight. Deaf, his brain told him she was asking if he was hearing impaired, but the words weren’t there—language chip. It was a neat invention.

“No.”

“So take him!” She gestured at the male. “Shower him. Dress him. And put him somewhere where it’s dark and quiet.”

Zenon didn’t react outwardly. His face remained blank, his muscles relaxed, but everything inside him went on alert. She wanted him to take care of the male? Mates didn’t leave each other’s side, and they did not ask others to look after them when they needed help.

Ghurva cleared his throat. “You want Zenon to care for your mate?”

“I would prefer a doctor, but if this Zenon guy…Gal? If Zenon is all you have, then yeah sure, send him to Zenon.”

“I’m Zenon.” Zenon took a step closer.

“Then no. The fucker who hit him looked like you. How many are you here? There was another who looked exactly like you too.”

Zenon swished his tail before he got control over it. Ghurva noticed and widened his eyes. Right then, Zenon wanted to snarl at the stupid eye-widening, but he reminded himself Ghurva was how he was supposed to be, and it was the rest of them who’d developed into something that wasn’t Negudade. Or it was Negudade, but not how Negudade should be.

“I hit him.” And he did not look like anyone else.

“Then no.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

Zenon glanced at Ghurva, then back at the female, then at the male. He looked ill. Zenon feared he was getting ill too because he had a hard time breathing.

“Look.” The female blew out a breath and dropped her arms, her muscles visibly relaxed, which was a strange thing in a hostile situation. Who allowed their weakness to show?

Negudade females weren’t as physically strong as the males, but they were often tougher, and they’d never leave themselves open to an attack the way this female did. Zenon looked, but he couldn’t see anything other than vulnerability. What was it she wanted them to see? It had to be a trick. She was distracting them from something.

Ghurva looked too, and Zenon suspected it was worry he could see creeping into his eyes as they waited. He wasn’t good at judging emotions from facial expression, but his guess was worry.

“We’re looking.” Zenon probably shouldn’t hurry her in whatever it was she was trying to show them. Anek could fly the ship. He wasn’t needed right this moment, but part of him wanted to run back to the cockpit.

The sound. Zenon didn’t know what it was, and it was over too fast for him to determine, but it sent a tingle down his spine. The female showed teeth, but she didn’t look aggressive. Ghurva’s face went slack as he stared at her.

“You need to turn around to Earth. We need to get him to a hospital and whatever your reason is to kidnap us, we’re not the ones you want.”

Zenon glanced at Ghurva again. The male was who he wanted. “We’re not turning around.”

The sharp intake of air and the way water rose in her eyes had him taking a step back. Was it contagious?

* * * *

Carlo reached for Grace. She’d held it together for longer than he’d believed she would. “Shh.” He rubbed her back, though moving his arm hurt his head more than being still. She cried against his shoulder, and he did his best to ignore everything around him.

The aliens stood stock still. They didn’t move, didn’t talk, and hardly breathed. It was as if they were statues. Carlo looked at the one who’d gotten him and Grace from the seats. They all looked the same, but maybe his skin was a little paler. Maybe.

When he noticed Carlo watching him, he met his gaze but didn’t speak.

“Is there anywhere I can wash up?” He had vomit on his jeans. As soon as he remembered, he rearranged Grace so he wouldn’t get her sticky. These might be the only clothes they had.

The aliens wore pants. He was unfamiliar with the fabric of the black pants that almost melted together with their skin, and their shirts were so tight they looked painted on. Carlo allowed his gaze to wander. Damn, they were fit. He hadn’t noticed their clothing before. Why did they dress in the same color as their skin? And how often did you see massive aliens in spandex? Never. First, it might not be spandex, but it was something similar. Second, you didn’t see aliens.

Maybe he was losing his mind.

“I’m not wearing spandex. Do you have a washing machine?”

Grace giggled. It was her panic-giggle, the I’ve-had-too-much-and-am-about-to-break giggle, and Carlo went back to hushing and rubbing her back.

The fairer of the two aliens—even if it was by only one shade—widened his eyes a fraction. It was the smallest eye-widening Carlo had seen, but it was more expression than any of them had shown so far.

“What’s that sound?” He nodded at Grace.

“That, my dear alien, is a woman having a breakdown.” As soon as he’d spoken the words, Grace’s giggles turned into sobs.

“What is she breaking down?” The alien looked around the room.

“Eh…Her mind.” It wasn’t fair to say her mind was breaking, but he didn’t know how to explain it any other way.

The guy swished his tail. “Make her stop.”

“You can’t stop someone from feeling.” Carlo winced as pain sliced through his brain again. “She’s distressed. Aliens came and took her from her home. She has the right to be distressed.”

Silence settled in the room. It was interrupted by the occasional sob from Grace, but none of the aliens spoke or moved.

“Why did you take us?”

They didn’t reply, and anger built in Carlo. What gave them the right to disrupt their lives? To kidnap them? His life might have been crap, but it was his. He did what he wanted, and he never wanted to go to space—never. His lungs shrank, but he tried to halt it. Taking a deep breath, he did his best to keep calm. The pain in his head didn’t get any better from him panicking.

He could breathe. There was oxygen on the ship, and it wasn’t small. It might feel as if the walls were creeping in, but they weren’t.

“Easy.” Grace stood, hands on his shoulders, and took deep breaths. He did his best to mimic them.

“What are you doing?” The more talkative guy swished his tail again. Tails. Carlo couldn’t believe he was in a room with black aliens with fangs, claws, and tails.

Grace glared at him. “He has claustrophobia, and he was panicking.”

“I’m fine.” He sucked in a breath. He was fine. He would be fine. Maybe.

“What’s…what you said?”

“Claustrophobia? It’s fear of small spaces. Carlo fears space, you put him on a spaceship. Which is really f*****g mean.”

The alien widened his eyes again. “Fear?”

“Fear.”

“But—”

“Stop it.” Carlo had had enough. He wanted to sleep, and hopefully, he’d wake up in his own bed…or on Grace’s couch since Ryan had cheated on him. Oh f**k, his life was ruined.