Sohut's Protection: A Sci-fi Alien Romance (Riv's Sanctuary Book 2), A.G. Wilde [13 ebook reader TXT] 📗

As far as she could see, there was only one creature in the cart that had scales, and it was lying in the cage across from hers.

Blue iridescent scales fanned down to fishlike fins.

It was a mermaid—or at least, an alien that looked a lot like one.

Red hair much like her own obscured the alien’s face. It was a real Ariel, if she were ever going to meet one.

The mermaid’s skin glittered in the sunlight, the blue moving over the scales as if the color itself was alive.

But that was the only natural-seeming movement.

Apart from the mermaid’s body jerking because of its own cage rattling, it didn’t move otherwise, and Cleo shuddered to think that the creature was dead.

Its four arms hung limp at its sides, and its body was set haphazardly in its cage.

The aliens’ conversation took on new meaning.

The mermaid needed water, and they didn’t care enough to let her have any.

The cart rattled again, jerking Cleo against the bars, and she accidentally bit down hard on her tongue.

God-fucking-dammit!

Tears sprung into her eyes and she tasted blood.

With that last bump of the cart, her cage shifted even closer to the edge of the cart bed and she eyed the ground below through the blur of her tears.

There was no safety barrier between her cage and the ground.

For the greater part of the journey, she’d been worried about her cage falling off the back of the cart.

All it would take was one huge jerk and off she would go.

And with every jerk, the bolts that held her cage together rattled as if they would pop right out.

Maybe they would.

She was kind of hoping on it, but she didn’t want her cage to fall apart just yet.

There was nothing but rocks and dirt as far as she could see.

This would be the worst place for her to try an escape attempt.

Squeezing the tears from her eyes, Cleo’s gaze moved to the other cages as she checked to see if any other creature was as alert as she was.

Farther up, closer to the front of the cart, one cage had a pile of black fur.

Earlier in the journey, she’d thought that was exactly what it was—a pile of fur like a huge rug. That was, until she saw six black eyes looking back at her.

The fur animal had its eyes closed now, but a shudder still made her skin prickle just looking at it.

Monster tarantula, maybe?

She didn’t see any legs, but she didn’t want to find out.

Directly to her right, another cage had a little gray animal that looked like a Chihuahua with tarsier-like eyes and a tail like a howler monkey.

Its big brown eyes blinked at her as it too gripped the bars of its cage for dear life.

The animal looked so small and innocent; it made her angry that they were keeping such a thing in a cage.

“I hope you find a nice home, little one,” she murmured to the thing and she didn’t know if it understood her or not, but it kept its large brown eyes on her.

There were about six other cages, all with different species—some she couldn’t see because of how they were lying—but there were no other humans.

She was the only one.

The sole lucky human.

Now, if only someone could tell her which raffle she’d accidentally won for this once-in-a-lifetime trip?

She’d like to return the ticket.

Her last memory of Earth was her finishing her shift at the bar she worked at in Cali. It’d been late and she’d just hopped out of her little Toyota, ready to hurry inside her apartment when she’d felt a strange pain at the back of her neck.

Next, she’d woken up to see a slug on a blue orb and a walking alligator.

Her first thought was that she’d been drugged—what she was seeing was impossible.

Only, the drugs hadn’t worn off. She was still in the nightmare.

What’s worse, the alien ship they’d had her on crashed.

What happened next was a blur.

She remembered the pain and the confusion, then she remembered the reinforced room she’d been locked in being opened.

The next image in her mind was that of Tweedle-orc-dum and Tweedle-orc-dee.

But she was alive.

She wasn’t on Earth anymore, the pink sky alone was proof enough of that, but she was alive.

Her father’s voice rang in her head.

Cleo, you have to learn.

You have to adapt.

Then you will survive.

Cleo cast her eyes in the direction of the orcs driving the cart.

They were still nattering about something, but their voices were so low, she couldn’t hear what they were saying.

The fact they weren’t concerned about the cargo they were transporting was probably a good thing.

With their lack of care, she could plan an escape.

Because she was escaping.

There was no way she was going to be sold like a box of stew…

Stew? … She’d fix her analogies later.

Glancing down at the road, Cleo gulped.

The plan that was hatching in her mind was going to hurt like a bitch. But, if this was how the orcs treated their “wares” before they got to their destination, she didn’t have high hopes about things getting better when they actually arrived.

What’s worse, she wasn’t becoming anyone’s pleasure pet.

So, pain it was.

She could deal with pain.

She couldn’t deal with death.

As awkward as it was to move in the cage, she tried to see over the aliens’ shoulders.

She couldn’t see very far ahead, but she could tell the air was getting more humid.

Possibly, they were approaching a change in the terrain.

…somewhere with vegetation, maybe.

Somewhere heavily wooded, hopefully?

She could only hope they didn’t turn off the road before they got there.

Glancing down to her bare feet, she swallowed hard and moved her toes a little, feeling for the item she’d found and hidden.

When her toes moved over the piece of metal, she released a breath of relief she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

She’d found the sharp piece of shrapnel behind the cage not long after the orcs had loaded her into the cart.

She’d acted quickly, taking the metal and hiding it underneath