Page 44 of Stolen By Her Alien Mate

What the hell is that noise though?

I put my feet to the floor and the vibrations tickle my soles. I mean, it is a Winnebago. So maybe we’re moving?

Would he really just take off like that?

My clothes are still out in the dining room, so I wrap my body in the sheet and go in search of Kael. Plus, I have to pee. And I really wouldn’t mind a shower.

It actually takes a second to figure out how to even leave the room. The door out of the bedroom is some cool, modern pocket door. There’s no handle, but a touch pad in the wall beside it. When I reach out, the door slides open soundlessly before I even touch it.

Definitely not a standard feature from a seventies Winnebago. How much money did he spend on these upgrades? And who would bother installing shit like this in a Winnebago? I mean, I love vintage stuff as much as the next girl, but this is extreme.

I make my way down the narrow hall to the common room where we ate last night. The room is empty, but my clothes are there—not tossed on the ground but folded and sitting on the now clean table.

Okay, so Kael is fantastic in bed and he cleans up after himself? What kind of fucking unicorn did I stumble across?

My bra and panties are a loss, but I have a spare pair of panties in my backpack, so I grab those and then slip back into my jeans and blouse. I give the room another look. Why aren’t there windows? Every Winnebago I’ve ever seen had windows.

And, seriously, how does it seem so big inside? Must be an optical illusion because of the modern finishings.

The faint rumbling of what must be the engine hums around me. I can still feel the faint vibration under my bare feet, but it doesn’t feel like I’m in a moving car. There’s no bump of the shocks. No side-to-side sway.

There’s a door on the other side of the common room, which surely leads to the driver’s area. Except, it doesn’t.

Like the other door, this one slides open when I wave my hand. This time, there are stairs. Just a short flight that spirals over on itself, but with every step, my feeling of trepidation grows.

This isn’t normal.

This isn’t normal.

This isn’t normal.

Winnebagos don’t have stairs. Or sleek automated doors. They aren’t magically bigger on the inside like Hermione’s purse with the magical extension charm.

Either I’m dreaming or something really fucking weird is going on.

I reach another door at the top of the stairs. This time, I hesitate. Something is on the other side. Kael? Yes.

But also something else.

The answers to all the questions that have been nagging at me since I woke up. Since Kael walked into the diner, if I’m honest with myself.

Answers I’m not entirely sure I want. But I’m no coward. I don’t back down from challenges. I analyze them, plan for them, and then face them head on.

My fingers go to the marks on my neck.

I can’t very well go hide in the bedroom. Bury my head under the sheets and hope to wake up back at home in my shitty apartment. Nope. I’m stronger than that.

So I wave a hand at the panel beside the door, and it swishes open.

I stand there in the open doorway and gape.

Even knowing there wouldn’t be a driver’s cab of a Winnebago on the other side, I’m still floored.

The room is smaller than the common area below. There are a pair of chairs in front of a huge screen. Kael is seated in one of them. In front of him floats a ball about the size of a children’s soccer ball. He’s tapping away on the surface of the ball like he’s typing.

The screen is divided into multiple windows. One has what looks like a video feed of a man talking. The other, some kind of control panel. The middle shows a stream of rocks flying past, like an eighties arcade game.

“What the hell, Kael?”