Invaded (Alienated, #2)(4)

A light ding! chimed from Troy’s laptop as the incoming electronic data began delivering comments to Cara’s blog post.





Ashley said…

So jealous. Seriously, I wanna go. Take me to your leader!


Eric said…

Glad to hear you’re safe—FOR NOW—but you’re an idiot for leaving Earth over some guy, especially after he poisoned our mothereffing water!!!


Tori said…

E has a point. Come back, culo. I miss you.




Cara tapped the touchpad and closed her Web page before any more discouraging remarks popped up. She’d committed to this life, and she wasn’t turning back.

A shrill yip! forced her attention to Mom, who held Linus over one shoulder and patted his back, burping him like an infant. It was official—Cara had been replaced by a German-Malty-Doodle-Poo. In two weeks, she’d lose her brother, and once they landed on L’eihr, she wouldn’t have a friend in the world.

This was the worst Christmas ever.


“This is the best Christmas present ever!” A L’annabe danced from one foot to the other, nearly slipping on the icy sidewalk while Aelyx autographed her copy of Squee Teen.

“Not a problem.” After scrawling a quick signature, Aelyx returned the girl’s magazine.

She stared at his glossy eight-by-ten photograph and sighed dreamily while her friend thrust a copy of Fangasm at him and asked, “Did you and Cara really have a secret wedding? ’Cause that’s sooooo romantic!”

“Excuse me, miss.” A young national guardsman named Sharpe extended one palm toward the girl. “I need you to step back.”

She nodded and obediently retreated a pace, joining a dozen other girls, each dressed in mock L’eihr uniforms, their hair fastened into low ponytails. The only threat they posed was admiring Aelyx to death. But while he found his guard detail overzealous at times, he was grateful for their presence. His last visit to Earth had ended in an attempt on his life, and he wished to return to Cara with all his parts intact.

“No,” he told the girl, forcing a smile. “Humans and L’eihrs can’t legally wed.” He added with a wink, “Yet.”

“Oh, gods,” groaned Syrine, his former best friend. Emphasis on former. They’d barely exchanged ten words since she’d tried turning Cara against him on the transport. Syrine shoved him aside and jogged up the front steps leading to the penthouse apartment they shared with the L’eihr ambassador. Two armed guards followed her inside.

“You should probably wrap it up,” Private Sharpe whispered. “You’re exposed out here.”

A frigid gust of wind stung the back of Aelyx’s neck, sending a shiver across every inch of his flesh. He’d never felt winter’s bite until his travels to Earth, and gods willing, he never would again after this mission ended. A warm fireplace beckoned from upstairs, and Sharpe didn’t need to ask him twice.

“Just one more,” Aelyx said to the girls, eliciting a chorus of disappointed moans. He was poised to sign his name when a sudden movement in his periphery caught his eye.

Glancing to the side, Aelyx noticed a uniformed guardsman approaching quickly from an armored Hum-V parked at the curb, his boots loudly crunching over the salt and slush that carpeted the street. A pink scar stood in contrast against the man’s ivory forehead, his brown eyes fixed straight ahead at no one in particular. Aelyx scanned the soldier’s jacket but found no name tag.

Why didn’t he have a name tag?

When the soldier broke into a jog, Aelyx’s body tensed, his instincts on high alert. Before a question could form on his lips, the man drew his pistol and aimed it over Aelyx’s heart. In a voice colder than morning frost, the man rasped, “This is from the Patriots,” and pulled the trigger.

Adrenaline surging, Aelyx reacted, but not quickly enough. As he dodged right, a deafening crack pierced his eardrums and two hundred pounds of force knocked him to the frozen asphalt. A cocktail of screams, shuffling boots, and counterfire flooded his senses.

It took Aelyx a moment to realize that not only was he alive, but that Sharpe lay atop him. Aelyx freed himself and propped on one elbow in time to see the rogue gunman tear down the street and vanish between two townhomes. Several guardsmen followed in pursuit while the rest of their unit scrambled to secure the area.

Sharpe rolled onto his back with a deep groan and asked, “You all right?”

Aelyx patted his chest and moved his arms and legs in a brief inventory. “Yes.” A glance at Sharpe revealed a wet patch of blood slowly spreading across the outside of his shoulder. “But you’re not.”

Sharpe followed Aelyx’s gaze to the wound before he gave a frustrated grunt and rested his head on the ground. “Just a scratch. But it’s gonna sting when the rush wears off.”

Up close, Aelyx realized for the first time how young the man was, likely no more than twenty. They might even be the same age, which surprised him. Sharpe’s bravery and quick reflexes rivaled that of a seasoned warrior. “You took a bullet intended for me.”

Sharpe shrugged his good shoulder. “Part of my job.”

Aelyx couldn’t help smiling at the boy’s stoicism. They could use more like him on L’eihr. “Well, thanks for doing it so thoroughly, Private Sharpe.”