Alien Captive's Abduction Read online

  She returned an hour later, half expecting him not to be there. After a panicked phone call with Erin about what to wear, she'd changed into her nicest sundress. Loose chiffon in a porcelain pattern of white and blue, it was comfortable, and according to Erin, it flattered her curves. Amber wasn't so sure about that, but she trusted Erin.

  The rain had stopped by now, but she still had her umbrella around her wrist just in case. She squeezed it anxiously as she approached the flower shop again, preparing herself in case it was closed up and empty, the whole thing having been a cruel joke.

  Her grip relaxed abruptly as she saw Atropos leaning against the wall outside the shop's front door, holding a bouquet. He looked up as he heard her approaching and smiled, waving. She hurried closer and he pressed the flowers into her hands. She smiled as she saw the stargazer lilies, fragrant and sweet.

  "You look lovely," he said, and Amber felt her heart stutter with delight.

  "You too," she stammered. "I mean, you look good. You always look good."

  He smiled and for a moment, she was afraid he was laughing at her, but he offered her his arm.

  "Are you ready to go?" he asked.

  "Of course," she said at once, putting her arm through his with only a moment's awkward hesitation. "Do you know what movie you want to see?"

  "I was hoping you might choose," he replied as they began walking. There was a small theater nearby, with a handful of local restaurants scattered between. The rain had left the brick of the old buildings dark and damp and glistening, and the air smelled of wet slate and petrichor. "I've never seen one before."

  "They don't have movie theaters in Greece?" Amber asked, curious.

  "Oh, no, of course they do," Atropos said quickly. "But it is slightly different. I have never seen a movie here."

  "Well, there's a romantic comedy playing," Amber said with a shrug. "That's kind of traditional for a date."

  "Would you like that?" Atropos asked, tilting his head to look at her thoughtfully. "To be traditional?"

  Amber considered it for a moment, then shook her head.

  "No, not really," she said with a small laugh. "There's a sci-fi movie out I've been dying to see though. It's about a mission to colonize Mars."

  "Of course," he said, smiling. "Then that is what we will see."

  They took their time, enjoying the early evening, talking as they went.

  " . . . and they discovered it was full of ethyl fomate, which is the molecule that gives raspberries their flavor. So the Milky Way tastes like raspberries!"

  Atropos stared at Amber, mystified.

  "But how could they even tell such a thing from so far away?" he asked. "That is impossible!"

  "Radiation, like I was saying earlier," Amber explained, delighted by his interest. "Ethyl fomate absorbs stellar radiation and emits it as radio wavelengths, so when they pointed the IRAM radio telescope at it, they could see it. And since we know the chemical makeup of raspberries, it's easy to extrapolate from there what it would taste like."

  "Incredible," Atropos said, shaking his head. "I would never think of such a thing."

  "Well, it's not your field," Amber said reassuringly. "You know things about flowers I could hardly imagine. We can't all know everything."

  "Still, it is amazing to me," Atropos said, smiling at her. "You know so much and are so curious about a place you can never go."

  Amber wilted a little and tried to shrug it off.

  "Well, that's true," she said. "I'll probably never see outer space. But other people will, and I can help. I want to help."

  "That, I think, is the most amazing thing of all." He squeezed her hand, and Amber felt her face go red again. She wished she wasn't so prone to blushing. She hated how blotchy and ridiculous it made her look. But Atropos didn't comment on it, and soon, they'd reached the theater.

  The movie was good, though technically incorrect on a number of points, which Amber at first hesitated to point out, then indulgently gushed about when Atropos encouraged her. On the way back, the topic switched to how he'd seen flowers used on television, and the broader topic of bad decisions his clients made when it came to flower choices. She laughed at his indignation over a woman wanting to combine lilacs with red roses though she didn't know enough to understand the faux pas. She just liked listening to him.

  Dinner was just as nice. They walked to a nearby Italian restaurant where she discovered he was a vegetarian. They both had eggplant parmesan and, despite her insistence that it was too much, a glass of rich red wine. He was especially delighted by the chocolate tiramisu and to Amber's amusement, he ordered a second one for the road.

  He carried it in a paper bag at his side as he walked her back to campus. Amber felt like carbonation was fizzing in her chest, sticky sweet soda. She'd dated a couple of times in high school and experimented in her freshman year at university. But she'd never felt like this before. For the first time, she thought, she might actually be falling in love with someone.

  They paused outside the door of her dorm room, both of them reluctant to bring the evening to an end. They stood there for a moment, awkward in the silence. Amber cleared her throat and gathered her courage.

  "You know," she said. "My roommate works late. She isn't home right now if you'd like to, you know, come in for coffee."

  Atropos glanced away with a frown, and Amber felt shame creeping up her back as if she were sinking slowly into cold water.

  "I should not," he said, but Amber was already fixing a strained smile in place.

  "Of course not," she said quickly. "Don't worry about it. Maybe next time. I mean, if you're interested in a next time. Which, it's cool if you're not. It's just coffee. It's not a big deal."

  "Amber."

  She might have kept rambling, but he suddenly took her by the shoulders, turning her toward him.

  "Very soon, I will return home," he said. "It's very far away from here, and I might never see you again."

  Amber felt her heart sinking down into her shoes. She looked down, gripping her purse for stability, but he touched her chin to raise her gaze to his again.

  "I would love to spend tonight with you," he said, and Amber felt that fizzing happiness in her chest again. "But it would not be right. I would never want you to feel that I had taken advantage of you."

  "Is it really taking advantage if I'm the one who invited you in?" Amber asked, caught between a strange feeling of elation and despair.

  He smiled, soft and sad, and drew her closer to kiss her. It was exactly as perfect as she'd imagined it to be and more. His mouth was warm and yielding, his arms gentle as he held her. He tasted like the wine they'd had at dinner and she wanted it to go on forever. All too soon, however, he was pulling away, pressing a second, brief kiss to her forehead.

  "Goodbye," he said. "And thank you for the wonderful evening."

  "I'll see you tomorrow, right?" she asked as he stepped away.

  He smiled.

  "Goodnight, Amber," he replied, and with a wave he hurried away, leaving her behind feeling terribly alone in the doorway of her dorm room.

  She unlocked the door and shuffled into the dark, empty apartment. She flipped on the light morosely, dropping her purse into a chair. She contemplated going through the motions of washing off her makeup and changing into her pajamas and decided it was too much effort. She fell into bed still fully clothed, sighing as she thought about the wonderful evening and its disappointing ending. Maybe it would be fine, she told herself.

  He was a good guy. He'd be there at the flower shop tomorrow and she'd get his email or something, and even when he went back to Greece, they'd stay in contact. And maybe one day, he wouldn't feel like he was taking advantage. It would be romantic.

  She sighed again, feeling like she was probably deluding herself. She dragged her pillow over her face despondently. She closed her eyes, content to just let herself drift off here, to worry about her problems tomorrow. Strangely, the light seemed too bright even with her eyes
closed. Frowning, she moved her pillow. She hadn't left the bedroom light on. Was something coming through the window?

  She winced at the bright blinding white light as she opened her eyes, squinting as she tried to determine where it was coming from. Her heart began to race as she felt her hair lifting off her shoulders and realized the light was coming from a point right above her bed. She floated gently upward, paralyzed with blind shock. She couldn't even feel afraid. It was all too sudden and strange to be real. She was floating up toward the ceiling, leaving her bed behind, her skin tingling strangely.

  Her heart hammered in her chest, searching for a reason, an explanation, any rational way to explain what was going on. She was asleep, she told herself. She'd dozed off and this was some strange nightmare. She would wake and everything would be fine. She was going to wake up. She had to wake up!

  She squeezed her eyes shut tight but the light was so bright it leaked through. She begged herself to wake up. Instead, unconsciousness slammed down on her all at once, like a door closing. She went into its blackness with relief.

  Chapter 3

  I cannot believe you have done this, Actian!"

  "And I cannot believe your ingratitude. Any other flight-brother would crawl to me on his knees for the chance at a prize like this. The bidding on the others starts at over a million credits."

  "You know I support you, Actian, but this—"

  "And you should be doubly grateful! I chose this one especially for you. Look! It's the one you've been mooning over for months."

  Amber groaned. She was lying on a cool floor, her head spinning. She blinked as she struggled to focus her vision. The voices that had woken her were still talking, accompanied by a strange, constant rustling like the wind through leaves.

  "Please, send her back," one of them begged. "Quickly, before she wakes. I can't be a part of this."

  "It's too late, brother. She's already sitting up."

  Amber pushed herself up on her hands, bringing one to her aching head. A riot of colors swam before her eyes, slowly resolving into two figures. Men, she thought, wearing cloaks. One in brown and orange, the other in bright pale green. And makeup, too. Costumes? Except something was wrong with their eyes. The one in the dark cloak turned toward her as she moved, reached for her. She saw the cloak tremble strangely and then open, spreading. Not a cloak, but wings. She wailed, a sharp, sudden sound of animal fear, and threw herself backward. The strange creature withdrew, flinching, its wings closing behind it quickly.

  "You must get over your squeamishness, Atropos," the creature in green said, shaking it's head. "This is the way of the flight now. I'll leave you and your pet to get acquainted."

  It turned in a sweep of its massive wings and, parting a set of heavy curtains behind it, took off.

  Slowly, Amber became aware of her surroundings. The room she was in was circular, the floor something close to white marble. Behind her, the circle flattened into a wall, the material plaster or perhaps some kind of matte plastic and detailed with white-on-white arabesques and patterns reminiscent of French baroque and yet distinctly alien.

  A curtain covered the rest of the walls, thick and velvet like a theater curtain, such a dark red it was nearly black. Where the departing creature had left the curtain open, she could see not a doorway or a wall but a low, decorative railing, white and as elaborately detailed as the walls. There was no furniture in the room, nothing but her and the creature with the dark brown wings. They were splashed in places with orange and gold.

  As they turned to watch the other leave, she saw a pattern in gold and tan on the back of his wings. The shape was abstract but easily recognizable as a skull. She pressed herself to the far wall, shaking, as it turned to face her again.

  "Please, do not be afraid," the creature said, taking a slow step closer to her. "I'm not going to hurt you."

  Amber flattened herself harder against the wall, wide-eyed, a terrified sob escaping her as fearful tears ran down her cheeks.

  "Everything will be all right," the creature pleaded with her, slowly kneeling in front of her. "I will find a way to fix this, I promise. Please, don't cry."

  It was far larger than she'd realized at first. As it moved closer to her, she realized it was taller and broader than any human she'd ever met. Its broad chest was wider than two of her standing side by side. It could have covered her face entirely with one hand. Amber's heart strained in her chest, racing faster than she'd ever felt. The creature reached for her, and in response, she shrieked, slapped the hand away, and darted past him toward the open curtain.

  The creature shouted for her to stop but she was barely thinking in her panic. She hit the railing at waist height and flew over it and into the open air.

  She screamed, grabbing the bars just in time to catch herself as she realized the 'room' she'd been in was in fact a balcony, one of thousands which now surrounded her, jutting out into an open, spherical space. The balconies, many of them with curtains similar to this one, all dripped with greenery. Vines and flowers climbed and cascaded from every surface. The building, if that was what it was, was massive, larger than any she'd ever been in.

  She could hardly comprehend it, at least not while she was dangling from a balcony railing over a drop easily the length of multiple football fields. The source of the rushing noise was immediately apparent. The air was full of creatures like the two she'd seen before, gliding gracefully between the balconies. They were every shade of the rainbow and then some. Vibrant scarlet and black, bright cobalt edged in gold. Deep forest browns and jewel greens.

  Though their bodies seemed mostly humanoid, their coloration, skin, and hair followed the patterns of their vast, beautiful wings. She watched them swoop and glide and flutter past one another, dancing and spinning and falling. Her balcony was near what she assumed was the top of the dome, but near its center point, she saw the creatures performing a delicate fluttering maneuver to right themselves as the gravity appeared to invert.

  Amber's head swam and for a moment, she was afraid she would faint and fall. Then a hand closed around her wrist and pulled her up.

  She looked up as the creature with the death's head wings lifted her easily back over the railing and into its arms. Its eyes were large and black and somehow familiar.

  "Please, be careful," it said, gently setting her back on her feet. "You would not survive a fall like that."

  She stared at the creature warily, unable to believe she wasn't in danger despite its words.

  "What's going on?" she blurted out, her voice shaking. "Where am I?"

  "I don't think you really want to know that," it said, its expression concerned. "It would only upset you. I'm going to fix this and you'll be home before you know it."

  "No, I want to know!" Amber clenched her hands at her sides as she demanded the truth, afraid she would set the thing off and make it attack her. "Where am I? Who are you?"

  The creature looked at her sadly for a moment.

  "You know who I am," he said. "You know me. You heard Actian say my name."

  "You're lying," Amber said at once, shaking her head. "There's no way you're him! Tell me the truth!"

  He watched her for a moment with his solemn gaze, then touched a strange opaline spot on his left wrist. There was a ripple of iridescent scales like those on his wings, passing over him like a wave and leaving a human man in their wake.

  Atropos looked back at her, just as handsome and familiar as he'd ever been.

  "This was the lie, Amber." He gestured down at himself with a frown. "This is the truth."

  In another flicker of scales, he was a monster again.

  "What are you?" Amber asked, her voice a bare whisper of shock.

  "This is why I could not spend the night with you," he said. "I am not human. I am not even from Earth. This is my ship."

  "I've been abducted by aliens," Amber said quietly and very slowly sat down on the floor. She put her head in her hands and after a moment, began sobbing.

&n
bsp; "Please, don't cry," Atropos begged. "I'm going to find a way to send you home, I promise. This was never meant to happen."

  "And what was meant to happen?" Amber asked, her voice thick with emotion as she scrubbed tears from her cheeks. "What were you even doing on Earth? Does anyone else know you're here?"

  "It's . . . complicated," Atropos said with a frown. "But no, you are the only human who knows of us."

  "What about the government?" she asked. "Area 51 and the SETI program?"

  Atropos actually laughed, brief and heavy with anxiety.

  "Your government cannot even keep your president's personal scandals secret," he said. "If any of them had actually had contact with us, you would know. And someone would presumably be making a profit from it."

  Amber, overwhelmed, groaned and put her face in her hands. She flinched as she felt him put a hand on her shoulder. He'd knelt in front of her again. He moved back as soon as she jerked away from him, but he offered her a hand up.

  "Please," he said. "Allow me to explain."

  Amber eyed the hand mistrustfully.

  "You're not planning to dissect me or anything, right?" she asked.

  "Of course not," he said at once and, still wary but unsure what else she could do, she took his hand. He helped her to her feet and led her to the bare wall.

  "Garden level, please," he said to the air, and at once, a door appeared in the wall, opening seamlessly on what looked very much like an elevator.

  "We generally fly between all the locations on the ship," he said. "But I think you would find that unnecessarily distressing. And I'm not sure I'm ready for the rest of the flight to know you're here just yet. Speaking of which . . ."

  He spoke to the air again, a rapid-fire shorthand which Amber barely recognized as including her measurements. At once, a garment shimmered into existence in his hand. Unlike the loose, dark clothing he wore under his wings, this was thick and stiff.

  She realized it was a cloak as he draped it around her shoulders. Its colors were shades of pale brown, like a dusty moth. It gathered to a thick feathery ruff similar to the collar of black fur that hid Atropos's throat and the tops of his wings where they met his back.