Touched by an Alien

and into my purse. “On three, we’ll move out.”
    “Okay.” I had no intention of moving, but I didn’t think he’d want to hear that.
    “One … two … three!” Martini was out of the car, the passenger’s door behind me open.
    Mephistopheles slammed his fist into the windshield, but on the passenger’s side. I knew he didn’t want to kill me, but I was glad the Navigator had shatterproof glass. His horrible hand was feeling around. I waited until it was almost on me, then I sprayed it.
    He jerked his hand out, but then bent down, looked at me, gave me what I thought on his face might pass for a smile, and waved. With the hand I’d sprayed. It was unscathed.
    I turned on the intercom. Amazingly, it was still working. “… get her out of the car!” Reader, sounding terrified.
    “Where the hell is Jeff?” Christopher, sounding mad and freaked. “Why isn’t their intercom on?”
    “We were fighting. He’s immune to the spray unless he takes it internally.”
    “You sprayed Jeff?” Christopher sounded horrified.
    “Tempting idea, but no, Mephistopheles. You know, the big fugly waving at me right now?” I had to come up with a plan. Pity I didn’t have one.
    Mephistopheles made a fist, still grinning. He pulled his arm back and it was really clear he was aiming for me. I wanted to run, but I was frozen.
    My door opened, someone grabbed me, and I was moving at hyperspeed. We stopped miles away—we were so far I couldn’t see any of the superbeings, not even Mephistopheles. Which meant we likely had a few minutes before they found us. Which was good, as I fell to my knees and started retching.
    Someone knelt down next to me and put his arm around my waist, keeping me from collapsing. “I told you to leave the car on three.”
    “He wants to kill you .” I had nothing in my stomach, so all that was coming up was bile. This was gross. I wondered if I could safely drink the Ever-Hold.
    “And what he wants to do to you is worse.”
    “Yeah, but you don’t care anymore, remember?” I managed to stop retching but then started to cry. Not an improvement.
    He pulled me gently into his arms. “Don’t cry, baby.” At this I started to sob for real. Martini rocked me and kissed the top of my head. “I’m sorry, Kitty. I just …”
    “Don’t want anything to do with me anymore. I got it, I’m clear.”
    His arms tightened around me. “I don’t want you to think you have to stay with me when you’re in love with someone else.”
    Well, that worked. I stopped being unhappy and got mad. I wrenched out of his arms. We were both on our knees, but that just meant I couldn’t kick him. I could hit him, and I did, not well or accurately but wherever I could reach, which was mostly his chest. Repeatedly. While screaming at him. “I am so sick of your ‘poor me’ attitude! I make one mistake and you’re ready to just walk away. Glad to know how much I meant to you. Hope you enjoyed your fling with a human before you marry some A-C girl like you’re supposed to!”
    “Whoa, whoa, stop. Stop!” He wasn’t really trying to block my fists. I got the impression I wasn’t hurting him nearly as much as I wanted to.
    “Why? What would that change?” I was still hitting him as hard as I could, but I was getting tired, and I was so miserable that it almost didn’t matter.
    Martini grabbed my wrists. “I said stop it.” I tried head-butting him, and he started to laugh.
    “It’s not funny!” I slammed my torso into his.
    “Do that again.”
    I tried to wrench away from him. He let go of my wrists, and I started to fall backward. He leaned forward, caught me, wrapped his arms around my back, pulled me to him, one hand at the back of my head, and then he kissed me.
    This wasn’t like the kiss in the car. This was deep and passionate. I tried not to respond, but within moments my arms were around his neck. He slid his other hand down my back and pulled me closer into him.
    We were like that for far too short a while when he slowly ended the kiss. His mouth moved to my cheeks, and he started kissing the tears away. “Don’t cry any more, baby,” he whispered. “Please.”
    “I keep saying I’m sorry, but you don’t believe me.” His lips moved to my forehead as he kissed me softly. I sniffled, and his lips moved down the bridge to kiss the tip of my nose. “I believe you.” He slid his hands to the sides of my face. “In the future, should we have one, if you decide you don’t