The Abduction (3 page)

Samantha turned her head, willing the tears to not come.
She did not want to sit and cry. She’d done plenty of crying the past few months with the passing of her estranged father and the end of a three year engagement. No—she was done with crying. She had responsibilities, a farm to run… but her body didn’t seem to give a rat’s ass what she thought at the moment and let the tears roll down her red cheeks.

She glanced toward the shadows of the bed, and from her angle spotted
her torn jeans underneath. The top corner of her tablet poked out from the back pocket, and she gasped and lunged for it. She jerked the small tablet out and stepped back, and then her face fell at the cracked screen and frozen pixels showing the lock screen photo of her and her dad on their camping trip to Yellowstone when she was ten.

Samantha fell to her knees, sobbing. She clutched the
busted tablet to her chest, as if it were a lifeline holding her to a reality that was no longer hers. She screamed; her entire body racked with sobs as she shook her head, praying that she’d wake from this nightmare.

Two hands landed gently on her back,
the fingers trembling. Samantha struggled to turn away, but then the arms wrapped around her shoulders strong and firm, and she had no strength to fight against them. The alien pulled her toward him, so that her body rested against the line of his chest. He seemed to hesitate, and then leaned his chin on her shoulder, hugging her closer as if trying to lend comfort.

His attempt to soothe angered her
, and slowly pushed away the despair. He was, after all, the one who had caused her this pain in the first place. It was his fault she was here. His fault that Carly was dead. His fault that she was a sniveling mess on the floor of his bedroom in nothing but a thin robe…

Fuck him.

She jerked back, gaining a surprised look from the man kneeling before her, and with both hands quickly swung the tablet up to smack into his right temple. The glass shattered further with an audible crunch, and he fell sideways with a grunt.

Samantha dove over him and sprinted out of the
unlocked door.

She burst into the hall and frantically looked both ways
, trying to gauge her surroundings, and realized she was in some sort of apartment. The large space looked bare and monochrome, with no signs of personalization or life. The walls were a contrasting white against the gray tiled floor. The main room shaped rectangular and narrow, held a single armchair in one corner by the only window and a low table and long black couch against the nearest wall, opposite of a mounted large flat screen monitor. The kitchen had stainless steel countertops and industrial looking appliances. There stood a closed door on either side of her, which she assumed was for a bathroom and a second bedroom.

Samantha
’s breath hitched as she spotted what looked like a front door at the opposite end of the apartment, and she darted towards it. Her hand closed on the door handle and turned, and she jerked it open.

A clawed hand slammed it shut
before Samantha could exit, and she was spun around and pushed against the metal door.

She blinked, clearing her vision, to face her captor
. His gold eyes blazed with fury, and his cheeks burned with an angry blush so deep it was near purple. His hand closed about her throat, and he leaned forward to growl in her face, baring fangs.

“Stirka kit rissat sa,
” he hissed between clenched teeth.

The man’s nostrils flared and he snorted, then shifted his grip to the back of her neck and proceeded to push her
, none-to-gently, back in the direction of the room she’d fled.

Samantha planted her feet and refused to cooperate.
The alien hissed at her, pushing harder, but she let her legs go out from under her and dropped to the floor.

“No!” she yelled.

“Tski raka!”

He grabbed her by the waist and threw her over his shoulder and stormed down the hall.

Samantha tried to kick and fight against him, slamming her fists against his back and twisting in his grip to get loose. She struggled for a while, until the five claws from one large hand got a good grip on the back of her left thigh, and he tightened his hold until she froze in fear of him breaking skin.

Back in the room, he dumped her unceremoniously on the
soft mattress and then turned to slam the door shut. Samantha rolled off the mattress and as he reached for her, and slid under the bed out of reach. He let out a small roar and grabbed the bed frame with one hand and flipped the entire bed over. Samantha let out a cry of surprise and tried to crawl away, but he grabbed her hair and pressed her face down to the floor.

He put one knee in the small of her back to free his hands, and easily ripped off the
robe. Then he flipped her onto her back and straddled her waist, holding her arms above her head as easily as if she had been a child. Samantha kicked and tried to lift her hips to buck him off, but his greater weight and strength left her panting. He sat patiently, seemingly bent on waiting her out.

The
y sat for several moments; Samantha’s eyes wide and heart racing, the alien’s breathing even and jaw tight. Then he sighed, and stepped away from her, straightening his uniform. Samantha scuttled into the corner, dragging the torn robe closer and pulling it up like a shield.

Samantha watched silently as he
righted the bed and began fixing the mattress and sheets, her heart slowing to normal and shoulders relaxing.

Why hadn’t
he continued to…

She shook her head, not wanting to think about that something until he actually tried. Though she knew instinctively that if he’d wanted to take her then, he could have—easily. The strength she’d felt in those clawed hands left no doubt that she was no match in a struggle, and yet he’d made it a point not to strike her. She studied him, noting the tremor in his hands and the slight blush on his cheeks and down the sides of his neck.

“You’re not going to hurt me,” Samantha said after a moment, “are you?”

The man
sat on the edge of the newly-made bed, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes didn’t quite meet hers, and they held not anger, but disappointment and regret.

Samantha
shifted against the floor. “Please, let me go home.” Tears welled in her eyes again. “Please. I know you don’t want to hurt me.”

The gold eyes blinked,
an indecisive look crossing the alien features. Then he stood and walked to a small touchpad on the wall near the door. He punched in a code and a panel of the wall to the left keypad slid open to reveal a closet. Inside hung several uniforms similar to what he currently wore. He pulled out a silver metal briefcase from one of the upper shelves and set it on the bed. Another code later and a few clicks of releasing locks and he opened the lid.

Samantha tensed as he picked
up what looked like a small, silver gun with a sharp point at the front, and then looked pointedly at her before quickly approaching. She pressed herself up against the wall as he knelt and grabbed her jaw with one hand and turned her face to the side and pressed the object against her head.

“What…
” Samantha struggled. “Don’t, please!”

A sharp prick of a needle
set off a burning sensation behind her left ear, and for a moment everything became muted and muffled. Her heart beat loud in her ears, the whoosh-whoosh of the blood rushing through her veins drowning out all sound. The man let her go, and she leaned back against the wall and shakily brought up a hand to feel at her skin, where she felt a nub of cool metal stuck just below her hairline behind her ear.

She curled her fingers to scratch at it, but
the man caught her hand and shook his head. His lips moved, but the sound was muted in the whooshing of her blood and pounding of her heart.

Samantha closed her eyes, her head pounding and vision swimming as her heartbeat grew louder and louder, the pressure behind her eyes building as her breathing quickened.

Then suddenly everything went silent, and she opened her eyes.

She looked up at the man before her, so close that she felt his breath against her lips. His eyes studied her intently, before
he pulled back to sit on his heels.

Samantha swallowed. “What… what did you do to me?”

Tears welled in her eyes as she thought of the possibilities, conjured up by countless science fiction books read and many night spent alone watching cheesy horror movies. Mind control. Genetic experimentation. Injected diseases… She reached up again to touch the metal implant behind her ear, but froze at his simple command:

“
No.”

Her jaw dropped and she stared wide-eyed at him. She stared at his lips. “W-what?”

He repeated his command in his sharp alien dialect, and
almost immediately his voice came through her left ear, as if his voice were inside her head.

“Do not
touch.” His lips didn’t match the voice in her ear, the translation delayed by a fraction of a second.

“How—”

“Translator.”

Samantha swallowed, her nerves rattled. Her ear ached, and her head swam again
. She felt herself falling, and braced for the impact on the cold floor. She sucked in her breath as warm arms caught her and gently lifted her limp form and carried her to the bed. Her eyes were heavy and she fought to keep the room from spinning while she looked up at the alien as he laid her on the mattress. She was surprised at the touch of concern in his eyes as he sat on the edge of the bed, watching her.

“It should pass,” he said after a moment.

Samantha blinked. “Should?”

He shrugged. “I have never done this before,” he said, motioning to her neck. “Most pass quickly.”

He turned his head to the side, so that Samantha could get a glimpse of the
similar metal nub sticking out of the skin behind his own ear. 

The room had
mostly settled, and Samantha swallowed and slowly pushed herself to an upright position. She moved to rub at her ear, stopped when the alien lifted a finger in warning, and then twiddled her thumbs in her lap as her focus returned.

“How
do you avoid me?” the man asked suddenly.

Samantha looked up. “What?”

“You reject my advances. How?”

She scrunched up her nose. “Arrogant, aren’t we?”

“Your species is supposed to react strongly to the...” He trailed off, his calculating stare unnerving. “They said you would not say no.”

Samantha peered at him, trying to piece together
whatever it was she was supposed to react to, and why then would she not be affected. Regardless of the reasons, she was elated by the revelation that she had an ounce of control left in the situation. “Who are
they
?”

The alien looked away, silent, and scooted further away on the bed.
He shifted uneasily.

“What’s your name?” she asked. Maybe if she learned more about him then she could figure out a way to get back home from… wherever she was.

He hesitated, the tips of pointed fangs peeking below his upper lip. After a moment he answered, “Krissik Sa Tskir.”

Samantha blinked, not even wanting to try. “Uh… anything else
I can call you?”

He tilted his head slightly to one side, as if trying to decide what she meant.
“Why do you need to call me? I am right here.”

“I didn’t mean…”
Samantha sighed. “I can’t pronounce your name. Is there another name I can use? One that’s easier?”

He blinked. “I only have one name.”

Samantha fought the urge to scream.
So much for this translation device being a big help…

“
Kreesak Tear—” she began.

“Krissik Sa Tskir.”

“Krissik Sa… Can I call you Kris?”

The man stared at her, and then slowly nodded
, though he did not seem happy about it.

“Thanks. At least this way I have a name
to put to your face instead of Tygra.”

Krissik
frowned. “What is tee-gra?”

His attempt at pronouncing the
name almost brought a smile to Samantha’s face. Almost.

“
It’s a cartoon character from a show…” She trailed off at his confused look. Samantha motioned toward his eyes and cheeks.  “Striped cheeks and gold eyes. Actually, the feline characteristics are… pretty amazing.”

She looked closer at his face, following the high cheekbones to the straight slope of his jaw line. The stripes that cut diagonally down from his hairline across his cheeks continued down the sides and back of his neck, disappearing into the high
, stiff collar of his shirt. His lips were full and tinted a very pale pink; a strong contrast to the angles of his profile. She suddenly had the urge to reach out and stroke the top of his head, wondering if his hair was as soft and fuzzy as it looked.

Krissik
just stared at her. Whether he didn’t agree with the comparison, or he didn’t understand the compliment, Samantha couldn’t tell. She also really didn’t care.

“My name is Samantha,” she said after a moment.

The golden eyes narrowed. “Ssan-tha.”

Samantha perked up. At least he was trying. “Sa-man-tha.”

He sat silent.

Well, at least he gave it one shot.
“Sam. It’s easier.”

“I am tired.” He looked back at her pointedly. “
You
tire me.”

She glared at him, and then her bladder screamed
and she leapt off the bed and headed for the door. “Look, I need to—”

Krissik
hissed a warning and slid up beside her. He grabbed her arm and pointed to the bed. Samantha jerked in his grip and pointed between her legs.

“I have to pee!” she said quickly. He didn’t seem to understand, so she elaborated, “Urinate.”

His lip curled upwards, as if disgusted by the idea, and let go of her arm. He opened the door and walked her into the hall and opened the door on their left. Samantha stepped inside, turning in a full circle. In the room stood a tall glass-enclosed shower, a tall freestanding metal cabinet, and two pedestal vanities with hanging towels.

Where is the toilet? Tell me they don’t just pee in the shower…

She spun back to Krissik, and was taken aback at the fact he seemed to be grinning at her.

“Where?” she demanded
, glaring. Her eyes watered with the strain as she waited. “Where?”

Krissik
reached out and brushed the wall on their right with one finger. Another panel opened to a reveal a small separate room, and in the middle sat the most futuristic toilet Samantha had ever seen. There were buttons lining the side, and a small flat screen display mounted on the wall nearby. She shook her head. This was definitely a male’s apartment.

I guess it doesn’t matter what species guys are…

She shuddered and hurried in, then waved at him to shut the door.

“Privacy, please?”

The alien swiped his hand along the wall and the door between them slid in place.

With the relief of emptying her bladder came the tears. She cried for
Carly, who had fallen trying to reach her. Then she cried for herself, unsure what this man meant to do to her, and whether she’d ever make it home.

Samantha took several
minutes to gain her composure, glad to be away from his peering eyes and reminder that she was his prisoner. She used half the stack of stiff tissues to wipe at her eyes and blow her nose, and then flushed and made several failed attempts to open the door before finally finding the right spot on the wall to swipe.

Hot steam enveloped her as soon as the door
slid open, and she stepped into the main bathroom to the sound of running water. She glanced over in the direction of the shower and her heart skipped a beat.

Krissik
stood naked in the glass enclosure with his back to her, hot water pelting him from three showerheads and steam rising off his body. The stripes that decorated his face and neck continued down his wide back, circling around his narrow waist and down the backs of his firm butt and slender thighs, appearing much darker and more stark against his tanned skin in the overhead fluorescent light. Soap bubbles slid slowly down his neck and back, following the curve of his hips and down his legs.

Samantha yipped and turned to leave the bathroom. She bumped into the nearest vanity, knocking over a
small bottle. The bottle fell to the ground with a clatter and rolled, the clear, mint-smelling liquid spilling out across the metal floor tiles. She flinched and glanced back at the shower, where Krissik had twisted to look at her, his gold eyes piercing and wild.

“Oh, shit,” Samantha whispered before bolting.

She made it to the door to the bedroom and reached back to shut the door when his wet body slammed into hers; soap-covered arms lifting her off her feet and dropping her onto the bed. Samantha squealed and flailed her arms trying to push him away, but her hands slid off his slick chest. He rested his lower half against her legs, his weight holding her down as he pulled at the robe. Samantha gasped as she felt his growing erection, incredibly warm and slick, slide up against her inner thigh.

“No!” Samantha shouted at him. “No!”

“Why not?” he breathed against her neck. His tongue lapped up the water droplets on her neck that dripped from his body. “Why do you say no?” He grabbed her face with one hand and planted a firm, wet kiss across her mouth.

Samantha’s vision exploded in a burst of golden stars and
honey waves as liquid minty fire spilled between her lips. Heat rose from her groin, stroking between her legs and radiating up to her stomach and chest. She breathed in deeply to clear her head, but the fragrances of mint, soap and kitten fur barraged her senses, and she felt herself running her fingers through the soft, wet fur behind his ears in an almost frenzied rush.

Soap dripped off
Krissik’s skin onto Samantha’s legs and belly. She felt his slick hips wiggle against her skin, spreading her knees farther apart. The hot, wide tip of his starting erection rubbed up against her inner thigh, and she gasped as he shuddered above her in anticipation.

She turned her head to the side.
“Because it doesn’t work this way!”

Samantha tried again to push him away, her head struggling to swim out the honey depths.
Krissik hesitated, unsure, and then growled and tightened his grip on her chin and leaned forward to kiss her again, his lower half lifting slightly off of her to reach. She managed to get one leg free, and she used all of her strength to ram it hard into his crotch. Her knee hit soft tissue and she felt him buckle over.

Krissik
gasped and fell to the side, letting go of Samantha’s arms. She used the opportunity to bunch up her legs, place her feet on his chest, and kick. He flew backward and hit the edge of the mattress, rolling off sideways.

Samantha twi
sted toward the headboard, where the metal briefcase still sat. She grabbed the handle with both hands, and spun her entire body as Krissik crawled closer. The case connected with his nose, and Samantha winced at the audible crunch and trail of red sprinkled in the air as the man fell back and disappeared over the side of the bed.

Samantha knelt, gasping, clutching the bloodied briefcase to her chest
, her heart pounding. After several moments of silence, she shakily stood to peer down at the floor.

Krissik
lay curled on his side, eyes closed and hands pressed to his nose. Red seeped out from between his fingers, smearing across his face and staining the floor panels. He groaned and rolled to a sitting position and leaned back against the bed. He tilted his head back to rest on the foot of the bed, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. His breathing sounded labored.

Samantha glared at him.
“Don’t try it again you son of a bitch! That’s twice already—”

“What did I do wrong?”
came the voice in her ear.

“
You can’t just kidnap people and force them to have sex whenever you please!”

“I was not going to force you.”

“Really? Because you don’t seem to take no for answer.”

“I was trying to
get you to participate.” He glanced up at her, and he didn’t need to say anything for her to know that he didn’t comprehend. “They said you would want to…”

“Again with the ‘they’. Who are
they
?” The briefcase lowered just an inch. “Look, I don’t want to have sex with you.”

Krissik
sniffed and shifted to sit on one hip, leaning his upper body on the bed so that he faced her. Samantha had done a number on his nose; a large gash cut across his wide bridge and the inner corners of both eyes were bruising to a deep purple. Blood ran down his lips and chin and had dripped onto his chest.

“You do not have a choice.”

Samantha’s cold began to take the better of her, and she swooned, lightheaded. She steadied herself against the headboard. 

Krissik
reached out as if to steady her, concern in his eyes. She pushed his arm away and sat back. Krissik held out his hands, trying to look harmless.

“I will not hurt you.”

Samantha snorted, her blood pumping. Though regardless of how or why she was there, she knew that Krissik spoke the truth. Even after she’d clocked him twice—drawing blood both times—he had yet to strike at her. And glancing at his claws and the teeth she knew hid behind those full lips she knew he could cause some major damage if he wanted to.