The alien ignored his pleas and dragged him from the chamber like a parent would haul a struggling toddler. The door slammed shut behind them, leaving the room in silence. Maureen turned to Darla with a disapproving glare. “Those were the Raxxians. And they do not tolerate acting up.”

“I-I didn’t know,” Darla stammered.

Maureen’s expression softened, if only slightly. “Well, now you do. Don’t let it happen again, for all our sake.”

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CHAPTER FOUR

Darla fell silent for a long moment as the harsh reality of her situation finally sank in for real. Up until this point it had all been big talk and crazy sci-fi hypotheticals, but now? She’d seen the Raxxians firsthand, and the huge aliens were even worse than what she’d imagined. It was a lot to process, but after pinching herself several times she had arrived at the cold, harsh reality that no, she was not dreaming.

In short, she was screwed.

“Actual aliens,” she muttered. “We’ve been abducted by aliens.”

Maureen had watched the gears turning in her head as she came to terms with the situation. She’d been there not so long ago. They all had.

“Yep. It’s a lot, I know, but that’s the deal.”

Darla looked at the others in the room, milling about, talking amongst themselves, or curled up fetal in their bunks, wishing they were anywhere but here. It was the latter that really hit her. The psychologically damaged ones.

“Okay, I’ve read about this kind of thing. There was a whole thread about it online. First, they take us to do weird experiments on us, then they’ll turn us into slaves or something.”

A short man with thick red hair pulled into a bun laughed hard at that. He was nearby, sitting with his back against the wall, and it seemed Darla’s comment had been the funniest thing he’d heard all day.

“Oh, you wish,” he said, wiping tears of amusement from his eyes.

“Play nice, Diego.”

“Don’t worry, Maureen, I’m just making conversation.”

“Hang on,” Darla interrupted. “What does he mean, I wish?”

Diego’s grin widened but he kept his laughter under wraps. “Let’s just say there’ll be no anal probes here,” he said with a wink.

“Don’t knock it till you try it,” she shot back.

“Ooh, feisty. I like this one. I hope they let her stay for a while. Most of the others are so depressing.”

“With good reason,” Maureen noted.

He nodded, his grin faltering slightly. “We make the most of our circumstances, is all I’m saying.”

“Hey, what are you two talking about? If they didn’t take us to study and experiment on, then why?”

“Because you are livestock,” a deep voice said from one of the dimly lit recesses in the wall.

The rustling from his bunk got everyone’s attention. From the shadows of the resting place, a pair of large feet swung out into the light. Very large. And judging by the boots, not human.

The owner of the feet unfolded from his bunk, stretching up to nearly seven feet in height, rolling his massive shoulders and neck as he stood up tall. He was wearing a tattered pair of trousers, the large bulge straining the fabric of the crotch making Darla wonder about the specifics of alien physiology. She peeled her eyes free and continued her assessment. He was also wearing a form-fitting tunic that had clearly seen better days. There were stains on his clothing. Blood, by the look of it. Given his robust physical condition, Darla doubted it was his.

The alien’s skin appeared to be a tough but supple hide, similar to what you might find on a beast rather than a person, but lacking hair or scales she almost expected of an alien. It looked as though he had a deep tan, almost like one would see on Earth. At least at first glance. But when he moved, the light shifted across his body and she could see the golden tone almost reflecting from the exposed flesh, making her wonder what he looked like in natural sunlight.

Dark tattoos peered out from the edges of his garments, the winding lines tracing his musculature, running all the way to his wrists and hands, it seemed. And those hands possessed five fingers, like humans, but longer and somehow different. It took her a moment before she realized he had extra joints in those meaty digits.

Of course he does. He’s a freaking alien.

While the others averted their gazes from the imposing figure, Darla was tired, freaked out, and more than a little pissed off at her situation. She pulled her eyes from his impressive physique and forced them upward, following his thick neck to his strong jaw and angular cheekbones until they met his own bright gaze. He was clearly alien, but kind of attractive, in a massive, beastly sort of way.

And his eyes? They were not what she expected from such a powerful-looking man. They were fierce, no doubt, but were also a beautiful shade of violet, the irises rimmed in gold.

He cocked his head ever so slightly at the unusual little human’s strong gaze locked with his. Feisty, indeed.

“What did you say?” she demanded, not looking away.

“I said, you are livestock,” he repeated.

“Livestock? How do you mean?”

His enormous shoulders shrugged ever so slightly. “You are not to be sold as slaves. You do not have that sort of value to the Raxxians. And your kind is not worth experimenting on.”

“Then what?”

“You are food, little one. Nothing more. The Raxxians are voracious, and your kind are a convenient species to fill their larder.”

Darla felt her stomach drop to her feet as her blood flowed cold at his words. Their captors were enormous lizard people. And just like Komodo Dragons or other apex predators, it made sense that they would eat meat. Unfortunately, that diet now included humans. Suddenly she realized why the woman called Mei was so quiet. She was the last of her batch of captives. Who knew what sort of horrors she had witnessed.

But this one, this alien, he wasn’t human, so why was he in here with them? He looked like he could give the Raxxians a run for their money in a fight. Maybe that was how he wound up here in the first place, and how his clothes got so torn up.

A lightbulb flashed on in Darla’s mind.

“Hang on a minute. Why do you speak English?”

“I do not.”

“You’re speaking it right now.”

“You are mistaken, but I will clarify, yet again, as I have had to do for most of your cohort. You have been marked with the translation rune. It is a weak pigment with very limited power normally used only on livestock and lesser creatures.”

“I’m sorry, you’ve lost me here. A translation what, now?”

Maureen turned her head and lifted her hair, showing the small symbol tattooed behind her ear. Several others did the same, all bearing the same mark. The alien, likewise, showed her the marking behind his ear, though his was more ornate and with a darker ink that seemed to shift under his skin ever so slightly.

“These are translation runes. Symbols that harness the power of the pigment, allowing us to understand one another,” the alien said. “In the case of livestock, such as yourselves, it tends to be less robust, but it serves its purpose.”

“Its purpose being?”

“To make it easier to direct animals,” he replied matter-of-factly. “When your beasts understand, one can direct them without the need of prods or ropes.”

Darla hated to admit it, but it made sense. She raised her hand, touching the area behind her ear. She almost jumped when her fingertips grazed the still-tender flesh where she had been marked. The area was warm, almost tingling with the pigment still fresh in her skin.

Dammit, my first tattoo and it’s as some freaking alien cattle?

She was more than a little pissed that after all those years not giving in and getting impulsive ink on a drunken bender with Tammy and the others, she was finally a member of the club. Only this version was not a club she wanted to be a part of. Not one bit.