Contagion (Gennekt, #2)

by Amanda Milo

The explosion lights up the entire room. A pink mist fills the air—and I’m too stunned to extrapolate what it is until I realize the humans have disappeared. ...The mist is exploded human. HOW UNSANITARY!

“Oh no!” I cry, stumbling towards her. “They caged you?” For the purpose of full disclosure, I admit that Erreck and I caged his human before we knew that she was not a dangerous alien animal. I’ve since learned that humans do not appreciate being caged, nor are their systems particularly adapted to it.

These are deplorable conditions, and if the particles of our captors are still suspended in the atmosphere, they should be ashamed of themselves.

The birds here explode from the trees when you scream; it’s very upsetting and quite the negative loop.

I sniff and notch back my antennae. “I’ve never been so female-handled in all my life,” I inform her primly.

I reel back as far as our grip allows, and tsk. “You poor alien plebeian.”

“If we’re lost out here for much longer, and our situation becomes the direst of circumstances, you have my permission to eat me after I perish.”

“I’m ignoring your rational voice from now on. I’ve had enough of it following me and trying to feed me lies.”

“If my translation device is right, and referring to me as princess means you think I’m a self-important, temperamental person with superior tastes and a peculiar difficulty to be pleased; then you’re correct, and I take no offense.”

“What is the purpose of your jaws doing this when you become chilled?” “It raises my body temperature.” I roll further onto my elbow, studying her. “By biting the air? How does the effort of your jaws raise your entire system’s temperature? That’s fascinating.”

Immediately, I consider what I’ve just said. “And I’m fine.” I look into her eyes. “And I love you.”