Page 11 of Nazab

“Why not?” she asked, tugging on her shorts in a futile effort to make them longer. “Are you gay?” Monica queried. She didn’t seem to be bothered that her prosthetic leg was on full display. The black sneaker on her prosthesis was at least two sizes larger than her white one.

His mind coughed up two explanations for the word she’d just used. One meant happy, the other was completely different. “I’m not attracted to males,” he said. “I just meant I usually have better control of myself than this.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “I’m probably the first hot earthwoman you’ve met,” she joked.

He rolled his eyes when she snickered at him. She had no idea about his lengthy history with her planet yet. “I gathered all of the supplies I could find, female,” he said, sweeping his hand towards the dining table.

Monica whistled in amazement. “Why is everything so clean?” she asked as she crossed to the table to examine the cans, boxes and other items.

“The table was covered in filth,” Nazab said with a shrug. “I had time to kill, so I did some cleaning.”

She turned to look him dead in the eye. “Marry me,” she said solemnly.

“What?” he asked in shock even as his heart leaped, then began to hammer hard. The thought of becoming tied to this female was enticing rather than alarming.

“I always told my friends that if I found a man who does his share of the cooking and cleaning that I’d marry him,” she said with a grin.

“I’ll consider your proposal, Monica Yamil,” he said gravely.

“Yeah, you do that,” she said, still grinning as she sorted through the food. Settling on canned fruit, she crossed to the drawers and found a can opener.

“Let me do that,” Nazab said, loping over to take the items from her small hands.

She watched in amusement as he opened the can for her. “I could have done that myself, but I appreciate your help,” she said, then she sat down at the table and began to eat.

Nazab had to turn away when she put the forkful of peaches into her mouth. Everything she did was a turn on for him. He was being pathetic, but he couldn’t stop his body from reacting to her. “You have enough food for a couple of weeks, if you eat frugally,” he figured.

“Frugal has become my middle name,” she said dourly. “God, I miss junk food,” she said in a wistful tone. “I’ve been craving a burger and fries for the past ten months.”

“I can hunt animals for their meat,” Nazab said. “I just need to locate wild game.”

Monica screwed her nose up adorably. “I’m not sure I’d be able to eat something that’s been living in the woods,” she admitted. “They could be full of worms or diseases.”

“I’m sure we’ll be able to scrounge up food from other houses that haven’t been ransacked instead,” he figured. “What’s the Rapture?” he asked, taking a seat at the far end of the table. He needed to keep his distance from her so he could think clearly.

Monica explained about the event that had resulted in half of the population vanishing while she was eating. He’d found bottles of water and she sipped from one every now and then. “Everything went to hell pretty quickly after the disappearances,” she finished up. “Then the red meteors arrived and a guy we nicknamed the Mad Prophet began talking on the ham radio one of my neighbors had. I sensed some weird beings three months after my friends and everyone I knew either vanished or died. My instincts told me to run, so I headed to the Bronx.”

Nazab had listened to her story in grave silence. “Who were those people who chased you to the cul-de-sac?” he asked.

Monica scowled and swallowed her bite of food. “I ran into Wallace and his friends after I left Manhattan,” she explained. “We stuck together so we’d have safety in numbers. I knew they weren’t angels, but I didn’t know they were going to turn bad like that.” She eyed him, then pointed at him with her fork. “Now it’s your turn,” she said. “Tell me about the good and evil aliens. I have a feeling it’s going to be an interesting story.”

“No doubt,” he agreed wryly. “Firstly, you’re far from the first earthwoman I’ve met, but you are indeed hot,” he told her. She blushed and her pale face went bright red. Chuckling, Nazab proceeded to fill her in about the Knights of Order and the Soldiers of Chaos.

Chapter Nine

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MONICA LISTENED TO Nazab’s story in amazement. It sounded completely unbelievable, yet she knew he was telling the truth. She couldn’t refute that he wasn’t human. Not only did he feel different to normal people, he was far stronger and faster than usual. He could also conjure up a sword from out of thin air.

“I’ve always wondered who my dad was,” she said when he was done. She’d finished her breakfast and they’d moved to the living room. They were both sprawled on recliners. He didn’t stare at her leg like most people would have since she wasn’t wearing jeans for once. His gaze roamed over her, but always returned to her face.

“What did your mother tell you about the male who sired you?” he asked.

Monica let out a sad sigh. “I never knew my mom,” she said. “She died when I was just a baby.”

“How did she die?” the warrior asked. He seemed genuinely interested in learning more about her.

“According to my Aunt Pansy, mom was pushed in front of a train when I was six months old,” Monica said. “She was holding me at the time.”