Touched by an Alien

but I had to close my eyes. “That was almost as bad as the gates or hyperspeed.”
    “Yeah.” Someone began massaging my temples. I assumed it was Christopher but didn’t feel up to opening my eyes to find out.
    I was still nauseated, but even through that the thought occurred that he was actually being nice. “You okay?”
    “I’m an A-C. It’s normal for us.”
    Not what I’d meant, but as my stomach started to settle, I had enough brainpower going to keep my mouth shut. This was probably the most pleasant Christopher had managed to be to me, and I didn’t want a lecture from Mom about how he’d extended the olive branch and I’d burned it or something.
    I finally felt well enough to open my eyes. Christopher gave me a small smile. “Better? Or do you need a wastebasket?”
    I managed a chuckle. “I’m all for skipping lunch, but otherwise, I’m okay, I think.”
    “Good.” He took his hands away slowly. “You sure you’re up for what’s coming?”
    “As long as you all promise not to talk too fast for the humans, I think so.”
    He gave me a long look. “You realize the chances of our dying are exponential.”
    “I could drive my car down the highway and die, too. Well, I could if I freaking knew where you put it, that is.”
    Christopher actually didn’t glare or snarl at this—he laughed. “It’s safe. Not here, but safe. We stored it in Pueblo Caliente.”
    “Good to know. People die all the time. From all I’ve learned in the past day and a half, my mother’s been living on the edge for most of her life, and she’s still here.”
    “You’re not afraid?”
    I thought about it. “Yeah, I am. But I’m more afraid of Mephistopheles taking me over and enacting his version of the Master Race through me.” I shrugged. “I guess I don’t come from hide-under-the-bed stock.”
    He smiled. “Yeah, I’ve been picking that up.”
    Christopher smiling was something of a shock. Like all the A-Cs, he was gorgeous. But when he was busy scowling or glaring, it was hard to notice. Smiling, I realized, he was easily as handsome as Martini, albeit in his own way.
    “Thanks for getting me out of there.”
    He shook his head. “Jeff shouldn’t have brought you in.”
    “I don’t think he realized what was happening. The guy who found us wasn’t exactly forthcoming with the level of the badness. And Jeff’s not feeling a hundred percent. He told me his empathic … thingies … are burned out.”
    “Synapses.” He grinned. “Thingies can work, too, of course. Still …” His smile faded, and suddenly Christopher was looking at me with an intensity I wasn’t prepared for. I felt my cheeks get hot for no reason I could name.
    Someone came up behind him. “What’s going on?” Martini didn’t sound amused.
    I jerked my head up. He didn’t look amused, either. “I got sort of … sick.”
    Christopher stood up slowly, looking at me the whole time. Then he turned around. “I decided letting her collapse on the floor would be bad for morale. Problem with that?” Christopher was in profile to me, so it was easy to see that he was glaring. I was fairly sure it was the little-used but ever-impressive Glare #4, which was heavy on the slitted eyes while keeping the mouth ready for sarcasm.
    “None at all.” Martini’s voice and expression said differently, though I didn’t think his problem was with me not being in a heap at his feet. “Things are handled. You’re sure your side has things under control?”
    “Positive.”
    “I ask because you seemed a lot more interested in Kitty than in ensuring things are taken care of. We’ve had enough leaks these past few days.”
    “Oh? You’re the only one allowed to focus on her instead of taking care of things? Interesting.” He shifted gears from #4 to #1. I figured he’d learned to always go with the classics when things were tense.
    “I told you not to push me on this,” Martini growled in a low voice.
    “And I told you to stop playing games,” Christopher replied in kind. “She doesn’t deserve that.”
    “I’ll bet I know exactly what you think she deserves.”
    “More than you can offer her? Yeah, I do think she deserves that.”
    This was just like when we’d arrived from LaGuardia the night before, only Mom wasn’t here to pull me away. I had a feeling they didn’t remember I was sitting next to them, either, which was kind of awkward.
    I cleared my throat. Both heads snapped toward me. Martini was glaring