Hazel

The lights were off when Hazel arrived at her apartment. She eased the door opened and grabbed the baseball bat she kept propped up next to the door. A quick inspection revealed that the apartment was, indeed, empty.

She placed an empty suitcase next to the bed and tossed her favorite clothes into a pile. Then she tossed in the boring essentials like bras, panties and socks. A small bag filled with toiletries. Wherever she ended up, a new  town or outer space, she’d still need a toothbrush.

As the late afternoon light faded into evening, her stomach growled. She hadn’t exactly had an opportunity for lunch. Hazel took a break from packing and rummaged through the kitchen. Standing at the open freezer, she realized that she had to do something about the fridge. She just couldn’t leave it and let all the food rot. That was unfair to her landlord. Bad enough that she was doing a runner. She didn’t have to make the situation worse with a fridge full of rotten food.

While a frozen pizza cooked, she emptied out the freezer, fridge and pantry. Fortunately, She didn’t keep a well-stocked kitchen. Scott had expected a hot meal on the table at 6:30 every night. Not cooking was a little assertion of her freedom. She could make a fancy dinner or eat frozen pizza, it didn’t matter as long as it was her choice. She normally ate something at the restaurant. If she didn’t, by the time she got home all she had the energy for was toast or ramen. 

The pizza finished cooking by the time she dragged the trash bag to the dumpster.

Her meal consumed, Hazel finished sorting and packing her clothes. She didn’t have much in the way of knickknacks or mementos, just some old photos of her family that survived the invasion. Those were definitely going. As a second thought, she packed a partial crocheted afghan. The soft wool had been a splurge but the afghan promised to be the cuddliest, snuggliest blanket in creation. She’d already put too many hours into the project and she might want something to keep her hands busy so she squeezed it into her suitcase.

Giving the apartment one last sweep, Hazel got down to the unpleasant business: calling her sister.

“You’re going to be unhappy with me,” Hazel said when Rosemary answered. Her face filled the tiny view screen. Hazel didn’t have the budget for a top-of-the-line model with fully immersive holographic technology. Her phone was a tablet device roughly the size of a book. It had a kickstand built into the back as a “bonus feature”. 

“You’re not getting back with Scott,” she gasped. “I thought you were over this—”

“What? No. I mean, I am over him. Totally over. So over.” Rosemary frowned at Hazel’s rambling. “I volunteered to be matched.”

“Matched to what?” Rosemary titled her head to one side, genuinely confused.

“I’m getting tested to be matched to an alien.”

Another gasp. “What? No! You can’t!”

“I have an appointment in the morning.” It was too late to back out now. Hazel had signed a contract. “Scott found me.”

The surprise on Rosemary’s face vanished. “So you’re going to run away?”

“Yes! He came to my work today and got me fired. The police showed up and everything.”

“Did you tell them about the restraining order?”

“For all the good it did. They just ignored it and patted me on the head.” She spat the words out, surprised at her own lingering anger. “So, yeah, I’m running away but I know he’s just going to find me again.”

“So you leave the planet?”

Exactly. “It doesn’t matter how much money his family has, he won’t be able to get me in space.”

“And your family? Friends?”

“I don’t have any friends.” Scott saw to that. Hazel brushed the screen with her fingers. “You know I’ll miss you and how hard this is.”

Rosemary chewed her bottom lip. “It’s not like I see you now but there was always the possibility you’d come back home. Eventually.”

“Listen, there’s a signing bonus. I want you to have the money.”

“You’re not making any sense. You don’t know that you’re going to be matched and, why are you even volunteering in the first place? I thought you hated the aliens.”

Hate was a strong word. “I never said that. I met one, you know, an alien. He was nice.” Nice and sexy.

Rosemary’s eyes narrowed. The effect was unnerving, like looking in a mirror. Hazel knew she and her sister had similar appearances but Hazel always thought her chin to sharp and her nose just a bit more pointed. Rosemary’s features were softer, prettier. “Nice... sure.”

“He was! Scott had his hands on me—”

“That creep didn’t touch you!”

Hazel tried to angle away from the screen so the bruises on her arm didn’t show. She didn’t fool Rosemary for a second. “I’ll kick his ass if I see that jerk again,” Rosemary said in her sternest do-as-your-mother-says voice.

Hazel really hoped her sister never saw Scott again. “The point is, he helped me. He got all in Scott’s face and punched him. It was awesome.”

Rosemary clapped a hand over her mouth. “He. Did. Not.”

“He did. And he had a translator chip, I guess, because he could totally understand everything I said but he only knew a few words of English but he still wanted to know if I was okay.”

“And he was hot?”

“Aren’t they all?”

She nodded on the screen. “Sure, but one hot, heroic alien doesn’t mean you should sign up. You don’t know who you’ll be matched to, or if you’ll be matched at all.”

Hazel had a strong feeling that she would be matched. Something about Seeran had been too intense. Yes, any Mahdfel warrior would intervene and defend a woman being attacked. Any decent person should do that. Seeran had something... more. Hazel couldn’t put her finger on it. “You don’t understand. The way he looked at me...”

“Like he wanted to strip you naked? Everyone knows those aliens are obsessed with sex.”

Hazel shook her head. “Like I mattered.” It had been a long time since anyone looked at Hazel like that and she was unwilling to just let it go.

“Hazel—”

“No guilt trip, okay? I’ve signed a contract. I have to be tested tomorrow and I have a gut feeling that I’ll have a hit.”

Rosemary flinched.

“Bad choice of words, sorry. But I do want you to have the money.”

“I can’t take that. It’s too much.” Two million credits too much, exactly.

“Use it to get new IDs. Good ones. Not like the cheap kind I got because Scott found me in like a hot minute.”

“You think he’ll come after me and Michael?” Concern flickered across Rosemary’s face.

“When he can’t get to me, he’ll find you and use you to get me to come back.” Rosemary shivered. “So use the money to hide. Move. Buy a little house and keep your head down. There should be enough money to keep you hidden for a few years.”

“Until Michael’s out of school.” Rosemary paused. “I’ll have to take it out in cash or he’ll follow the bank trail. Hazel, I don’t want that kind of cash on me.”

“I’m sorry, that’s the way it has to be. He’s a vindictive bastard.”

Rosemary crossed her arms. “I can’t believe you married that jerk.”

Hazel shrugged. Neither of the sisters had wanted to be tested and possibly forced to marry an alien when they turned twenty. Rosemary had a kid. Hazel got married. Plenty of women did the same to avoid the Draft.

“And I can’t believe you now want to marry an alien. Your heroic alien must have been really hot.”

He was. He really was. Hazel managed to keep her mouth shut but she couldn’t fight the smile.

Rosemary’s eyes went wide. “Oh! I know that look. You made out with him!”

“I did not.” She totally did.

“You did! You frenched an alien!”

“Aunt Hazel frenched?” a small voice asked. Michael’s face crowded the screen until Rosemary pulled him back to her lap, laughing. Hazel blushed furiously.

“I met an alien today,” she said. “He didn’t speak English so good so we spoke in French.”

“You speak French?” Michael asked.

“She sure does. Give Mikey a sample,” Rosemary said, grinning madly.

“Bonjour, adroit pamplemousse demi baguette chapeau,” Hazel spouted, desperate for half-remembered high school French vocabulary. 

Michael nodded, satisfied. Hazel softened on the inside. He was such a sweet little boy and she already missed so much of his life. If her plan worked, she’d miss so much more.

Rosemary laid a kiss on top of his head. “Say goodnight and head to bed, okay?”

Michael leaned into the screen and planted a sloppy wet kiss before scampering off. Rosemary waited for him to leave before continuing the conversation.

“I don’t like it, Haze,” she said.

“I lost my job. I can’t stay here and I can’t keep leaving town every time he turns up.”

“I know, but, aliens? Really?”

Hazel wanted her sister to understand. “Today was just... The cops showed up and they didn’t even listen to me. I got fired and it was a terrible job but it was mine and I have to leave this crappy apartment but it’s mine and all I’ve got is what I can squeeze into two bags and I’m tired, Rosie. I’m tired.”

She took a deep breath, waiting for her sister’s response.

“Just because you’re tested, doesn’t mean you will be matched,” Rosemary said. “What then?”

“Same plan. I emptied out my bank account already. I’m packed. I leave town.”

Rosemary took a while before saying, “Your plan sucks. You married Scott so you wouldn’t have to marry an alien.”

“Maybe I should have,” Hazel said. “Maybe I should have been tested when I turned twenty.” She married at nineteen. At the time she felt mature, like a proper adult. Now, just five years later, nineteen felt far too young to make life altering decisions.

“You don’t mean that. Those Mahdfels are animals—”

“No they’re not.”

“So you met one good one. The only good one,” Rosemary huffed.

“You watch too many conspiracy videos.”

“They’re not conspiracy videos! They want to turn us into baby factories.”

Hazel bit her tongue and did not point out that her sister got pregnant specifically to avoid being turned into an alien baby factory. Human baby factory was acceptable, apparently. This was an old argument and neither were going to sway the opinion of the other. “It doesn’t matter.  I’d have to be tested on my birthday anyway. At least this way there’s more money for you and Michael.”

Rosemary’s eyes softened. “I’m scared for you.”

“The Mahdfel look scary,” Hazel said. “But Seeran wasn’t. Not to me. I felt—”

“Important.”

“Yeah. And safe, like he’d stand between me and world if he needed to and the world didn’t stand a chance.”

“He really punched Scott?”

“He fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes.”

Rosemary smiled. “He deserved it. You know, he has been sniffing around here, like he thinks you’re dumb enough to come back home.”

Many a night Hazel had been tempted to do just that. “You’ll do it? New identities and a new town?”

Her sister nodded. “And you’re not going to disappear. The TV says you have all these rules to protect you, so you don’t have to, you know...”

She knew and she kind of wanted to, at least she wanted to with Seeran. A stranger would be a different story. “The recruitment center made me read all the regulations. For something that’s basically about making babies, they made it really boring.”

Rosemary laughed. “You didn’t say that, did you?”

“It slipped out.”

“So what was it like?”

“The recruitment center? Boring.”

“No, the frenching.”

“I swear, Rosie, I hope I’m matched to someone who kisses half as good. I’ll be a happy lady.”

Seeran

THERE WAS NO HONOR in ambushing an opponent but Seeran suspected Scott had little experience in the way of honor. And there would be little glory in a victory over the Terran but Seeran would take a grim satisfaction in inflicting pain on his person.

No, no honor or glory at all. Seeran would not be able to share his triumph with his brothers and enjoy the envy and admiration in their eyes. He would have to keep events about to unfold to himself.

Finding Scott was trivial. One call and Seeran had all the information he needed. The male rented a room in an expensive hotel under his own name. Of course, the male had never been hunted before and assumed himself the hunter of Hazel. He did not know the creeping sensation on the back of his neck as a larger, more dangerous predator stalked him. At the moment, Scott drank in the hotel’s alcohol dispensary.

The door to Scott’s suite took no effort to cajole open. Seeran recognized the suite as opulent by Earth standards with marble and gold decorating every surface. However, a stink beyond that of stale alcohol pervaded the room, soaking into the plush carpeting. Rubbish was strewn about the floor and furniture overturned. The room had been trashed.

In that instant, Seeran knew exactly the kind of male Scott was. Seeran’s uncle, his mother’s brother, was the same. He could acquire an exquisite work of art or a high end piece of tech and ruin it the moment his filthy fingers touched it. He was filthy. He could not help but spread the filth and ruin everything he touched.

Scott ruined this room the moment he stepped inside and he wanted to ruin Hazel’s life.

Seeran would not let him. Even if he never claimed his mate, the knowledge that she was free from this corrupting male’s grasp would keep him warm on lonely nights.

At least he hoped so.

Seeran dragged a chair into position. Light from the entryway would not reach his corner. He waited. 

His plan was half-cocked at best. He needed to hurt Scott the way he hurt Hazel; hurt him in a way to deter him from seeking her out again. Beyond that, he had nothing. Mylomon would laugh at him. That male planned everything and had a plan if he ever encountered an unplanned situation. The fire in Seeran’s blood took the lead, which was unlike himself. He had always remained cool and controlled but now he was reckless and he didn’t care about the consequences.

Seeran did not have to wait long until the lock scraped open. The male took two steps inside before stumbling.

Pathetic.

It took no effort to approach the male and have him prone on the floor, blade pressed to his throat. Just a fraction of a movement could end Hazel’s torture and she’d be free...

Seeran tossed the blade to the ground and replaced it with his hand. He clamped down, squeezing at the side to restrict blood flow but not oxygen. Scott would go light headed and believe himself being strangled.

Scott clawed at Seeran’s hand, his blunt fingernails unable to get purchase. “Who are you?” he croaked out.

Seeran shifted forward, letting the light hit his face. Scott might have gasped if he wasn’t going red in the face.

“Relax,” Seeran said. “You have plenty of oxygen. For now.” He tightened his grip to prove a point, then lifted his hand.

Scott gasped, rubbing at his raw throat. “You son of a bitch. You’re going to pay—”

Seeran’s hand went back, this time cutting off oxygen. “I don’t need you to talk right now. You just need to listen. If you enjoy breathing, and I understand that most Terrans do, you’ll keep that vile mouth shut and listen until I’ve said my peace. Understand?”

Scott nodded, eyes wide.

"I've got two purposes here," Seeran said. "The first one is unpleasant but we'll get it out of the way first. Agreed?"

"Fuck you!" Scott spat in his direction.

"Wrong answer. You hurt a female."

"She's my wife. If I want to teach that bitch a lesson, no one can stop me. I do what I want with my property.”

"Wrong answer." Seeran grabbed the male's right arm, dragging Scott to his knees. In one swift motion he extended the arm and applied torque. The shoulder joint dislocated with disturbing ease. Terran's were too fragile.

Scott screamed, ragged and edged with the agony of a male who newly experienced pain first-hand.

Seeran stuffed a discarded shirt into Scott mouth, muffling him. "You are disappointing. All that pain you like to dish out to those weaker than you and at the slightest injury you're crying like a child."

Tears rolled down Scott's red face, his eyes shining with hate.

He should not be enjoying this. Seeran knew he should be observing with a cold, detached clinical interested. He should not be reveling in the male's agony, and it was delicious agony. Perhaps he was not as disciplined as he thought.

"You taught me something about myself," Seeran said. "Advanced interrogation is not an aspect of my job that I've enjoyed. Inflicting pain seldom yields the desired results. People will say anything to make the pain stop."

Scott tried to speak around the cloth in his mouth, probably to add a vital "fuck you" to their conversation.

"I never thought I could enjoy this, so I thank you." Seeran patted Scott on the shoulder, causing the male to collapse on the floor in a new wave of pain.

Seeran crouched down, waiting for Scott to calm. Gradually the male's screams turned to sobs and those dissolved into whimpers. "Now that we got the unpleasantness out of the way, the second item is a warning. Leave Hazel alone."

Scott struggled to speak around the cloth.

"Scott, please. We're males. Let us act with dignity. When I tell you to leave Hazel alone and never set eyes on her again, you agree."

More muffled words.

"You seem to be mistaken about our power dynamic here," Seeran said. "I command, you follow orders. Simple. I knew you'd understand." He gave Scott a friendly pat on the shoulder, causing him to howl in pain.

Seeran waited for Scott to quiet down before he continued. "You leave her alone. You get back in your car and go home. You don't contact her. You don't contact her sister. Your lawyers don't contact her. You live your little life, find a new female, plant a garden. I don't care so long as it does not involve Hazel Rovelli. Are we agreed?"

Scott stared up him, eyes blazing.

Seeran removed the gag. "Are we agreed?"

"Fine," Scott spat, as if the words were bitter on his tongue. "Yes. Just go. If you think you're going to chase that tail and get a piece, you're in a bad time. She's cold. Frigid. The bitch won't put out—"

A fist to the jaw silenced him.

Seeran checked his pulse. Still breathing. The male was a sorry mess, blood from a split lip making a ruin of his face and shirt. Seeran knew intellectually he should find no satisfaction in the pain. In a job well done, yes, but never just joy in causing pain. That was a Suhlik virtue, not Mahdfel.

Seeran wiped off his bloody fist on Scott’s shirt and retrieved his blade. 

He would have to reflect upon his actions.