Caught Between Two Blue Aliens: An In the Stars Scifi Alien Romance

Chapter One

I’m serious, Jenna. You need to re-re…

Reconsider? Jenna supplied the word out of habit while she ran a brush through her hair in an attempt to tame the wavy blonde strands. She certainly hadn’t adopted her teenage sister just to kill her, but sororicide was looking better and better the more Beatrice nagged…

"Reconsider tonight," Bea finally finished.

I hear you. Jenna placated, still staring in the mirror while she struggled to get ready in the tiny bathroom. Hell, the whole apartment was incredibly small and filled to the brim with what few possessions they’d managed to accrue over the two years since Mom and Dad had passed. The bathroom was no different.

Jenna winced at her appearance and whipped open a drawer under the vanity, wincing even harder at the high-pitched squeak of wood on ancient, rusting hinges. This place hadn’t been updated in an eternity, the hardware showing its advanced age. But it served its purpose. It was rent-controlled and housed all three of them on Jenna’s shoestring budget. Because there was her little brother, Noah, to worry over, too. Noah’s expensive medical treatments were the entire reason Jenna was standing in the bathroom at that very moment, preparing for a long night of serving food to a bunch of fancy people and a group of intimidating aliens.

Real ones. Actual space aliens.

A giddy shiver raced down her spine at the thought of meeting real Drokten warriors, even in passing, and she grinned at herself in the mirror.

Blush. I need blush and a bit of mascara.

The makeup was several years past its expiration date, but whatever. It still worked. Plus, she wasn’t about to waste money on new makeup when she was saving for Noah’s treatments.

And tonight, she’d earn a good chunk of change thanks to hazard pay. Freaking time and a half, at least.

Jen-na, Beatrice whined. You’re not listening to me.

"I am listening, Bea." Jenna promised, and it was only a tiny lie. Half a lie, really. Hardly even a lie at all in the grand scheme of things.

The reality was, Jenna had a catering gig that evening at Drokten Main—in the Tower itself—the glamorous location where some of the Drokten now worked and lived. They’d created an outpost here, on Earth, in order to continue the alliance between their two species.

Working there tonight meant time and a half, easily. If there were over thirty Drokten present, she might even get double pay. Double. Pay. She could hardly imagine that many credits in her account. They’d be set for like, weeks. No worrying over Noah’s treatments or paying the rent. Nothing.

It’s d-d-d—

Dangerous?

"Dangerous and you should see the-the-the… Bea paused and harrumphed. Then she stared at the tablet in her hands. In-dem-ni-fi-ca-tion clause."

Jenna leaned closer to the mirror. You should see the size of my pores, she murmured. If only she had the money for those high-end cleansers and creams…

"Jenna!"

Oops. She’d said that out loud.

Yes, you did. Beatrice glared at her in the mirror.

And that, apparently, too.

Ugh. Her mouth and the way it got away from her. She’d have to be careful at Drokten Main that evening. She knew that the high pay-off came with a drop in safety and security. Not everyone was comfortable around the alien heroes who’d saved their planet. They were scary as hell. The danger for this gig was elevated beyond the usual business parties and board meetings she waitressed for the catering company, and the paycheck would reflect that change. Double pay, here I come…

But the extra credits weren’t all that had her nervous and excited for the evening to come. She shivered over the fact she’d be around the mysterious, powerful Drokten themselves. She’d only seen them at a distance or on vid screens but never spoken to them before. Jenna couldn’t help but be fascinated by Earth’s saviors. Their blue skin, sharpened features, intriguing society and culture, the danger, the flashiness—all of it captured her imagination. It all made her wonder… What if…

What if, what? Bea interrupted.

What if I… Jenna thought fast. Went with the red lipstick tonight instead of nude gloss? No way would she mention how often she’d wondered what it would be like to touch, to kiss, one of those big blue aliens. Her sister would have a stroke. A stuttering stroke of hysteria, but a stroke, nonetheless.

"To make yourself look hotter? Beatrice wrinkled up her nose. You don’t want their attention. Her sister shook her head in denial. They aren’t normal men, Jenna. Haven’t you heard that they date in pairs? I think on their home planet their women marry two of them, at once. One woman, with two husbands."

And this was bad because…?

Jenna kept her lips sealed and reached for her usual lip gloss instead of the bright lipstick that called to her. Natural makeup was the way to go because she didn’t want their attention at all. Right?

Right. Bea agreed with her.

Dammit. Jenna really needed to get ahold of this talking out loud thing before her evening at Drokten Main. Normally she was much better than this, but her nerves were shot with the anticipation of the night to come. Now that the day had arrived, she was antsy, restless, and overthinking the situation. Even the usually simple act of putting on makeup and making her hair presentable made her feel nervous. Eep!

"Eep is right! Beatrice cut in. Eep! That they want you to sign your life away before you go to work carrying drinks and snacky-snacks."

Jenna sighed. She was totally gonna get fired if she didn’t get her motor-mouth under control. "It’s hor d’oeuvres, which you know, and it’s a standard contract for working at Drokten Main, Beatrice. Everyone has to sign stuff like that before they go there."

Her little sister snorted. Uh-huh.

Jaded little shit. My sister, folks, fourteen going on forty.

Can this wait, Bea? I’m trying to get my hair done for the gig tonight. And not have her heart pound out of her chest at the same time. Blood and adrenaline thrummed through her veins as she stood in front of her own reflection, attempting to finagle her hair into some kind of elegant updo. Though that was easier said than done, considering she’d somehow misplaced her brush and…

I’m giving this to you under protest. Beatrice waved the missing brush in the air.

Jenna snatched it from her sister. As long as you’re giving it over, protest all you want. She only hoped Bea hadn’t gone so far as to create picketing signs. You’re a lifesaver. Jenna took the brush and ran the teeth through her tangled strands. I think we’re just gonna go for a regular ponytail with a few curls. What do you think?

About your hair or signing your life away for snacky-snacks?

Jenna rolled her eyes. Beatrice was fourteen, but her sister had the wisdom and soul of an elder. Sometimes that was a good thing, unless she turned that crotchety persona on Jenna and then… not so much. Her sister was quiet and contemplative—the kind of girl who listened far more than she spoke and noticed the little things people overlooked. She was so much like Dad, it broke Jenna’s heart. Dad had always been so serious too.

Jenna paused and tipped her head to one side as she pursed her lips, deciding to let Bea have her say. With a huff, she put the brush down and leaned against the bathroom counter. What else are you upset over, Bea? Bea? Let it all out.

Oh, sorry, her sister blinked, as though breaking herself out of a trance. I’m worried.

About what? Jenna went back to taming her hair and grabbed a chunk, struggling to scoop it into the ponytail she was forming with her other hand.

You have to sign your life away.

Here we go again, Jenna grumbled.

I’m serious, Jenna. It’s a contract. A legally binding contract, Bea lamented. And you won’t just be signing your name but also placing your handprint.

Yup, I know. Jenna nodded, hand atop her head and hair all gathered prettily. That’s standard for this kind of event, Bea. Now, can you hand me that black scrunchie from the jar on the counter?

Beatrice sighed and handed her the circle of velvety black fabric. I just don’t think you’re taking this seriously enough.

I’m putting way more effort into my look than usual. I’m taking it seriously. I promise. Jenna assured her with a cheeky grin. She finished tying up her hair and then took the curling iron to the long wavy strands and added some nice big curls, making them shine in the bathroom’s dim light. She turned to Bea and gestured proudly at her handiwork. See? I wouldn’t do this for any old catering job.

Bea was unamused. Spoilsport. It’s pretty, Jenna, but you’re missing the point. I read the entire contract. —See? Fourteen going on forty.—There is some really biz-biz-biz-weird, misleading wording in there. I don’t like the sound of it. Beatrice harrumphed and crossed her arms over her thin chest.

It reads differently because the event is at the tower at Drokten Main. It’s to be expected. No big deal. Nothing to get all worked up over, that’s for sure. Jenna stared pointedly at her little sis.

Bea’s shoulders slumped as she shook her head. I appreciate your op-op-op—

Optimism.

"Optimism, but I think you ought to give the contract a solid read-through before you put your handprint on the docusign. I mean, just for good measure."

Don’t worry about me. Okay? Jenna grasped her little sister by the shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. I promise I can handle myself around a bunch of Drokten. They’re different, but they’re not murderers or anything. Yes, they’re aliens, but they saved our planet from the Zignill. They’re the good guys.

And also, the hot guys, but whatevs.

"Jenna! Really? Ew."

She sighed and pretended she hadn’t outed herself as an alien-lover, and Bea did the same. Mostly. She got back to hassling her about signing the contract, at least.

Look, I know you can handle yourself, Bea murmured, with her tablet pressed to her chest. You’re smart and you pay attention, but this contract… I’m telling you there’s something funky going on. I feel like you’ll be signing your whole life away.

Beatrice, you know I’m in no position to turn down a high-paying gig like this. Jenna reminded her sternly. Think about the number of credits this night’s work will bring in. Really think. This kind of money doesn’t come along every day. Bea, dollahz, lots and lots of dollahz. And she lifted her hand, rubbing the tips of her fingers against her thumb.

Bea’s lips twitched and then returned to a frown. Is it worth it? she asked outright. "I know that sounds crazy con-con-considering our position, but have you thought about why it pays so much. Nobody would offer such generous pay unless it was a dangerous job."

"Of course, it’s worth it. Come on, Bea. We need to help Noah," Jenna replied, lowering her voice just in case their younger brother was within earshot. Their tiny apartment offered little privacy for hushed conversations.

Noah had been sick for a while, his lungs and throat perpetually inflamed. He constantly coughed and hacked, and his breathing was labored. He was able to still go to school, but Jenna knew if he missed any of his treatments, he could take a scary turn for the worse. The doctors had warned her many times that this wasn’t just asthma. This was a rare genetic disorder that, if left untreated, would severely shorten his lifespan. And Jenna wanted Noah to live a long and happy life. Hence, she worked her ass off.

Beatrice frowned. Of course, I’m thinking about Noah. But is this the best way to help him? Really?

Jenna turned off the curling iron and set it aside before grabbing the mascara to lightly apply it to her lashes. She leaned closer to the mirror so she could see better. "This gig will pay for this month and next month’s lung treatments and then some. Imagine that—having money left over. How often does that happen?"

Beatrice appeared exhausted and a little beaten. Her shoulders curled down and she looked haggard—far beyond her fourteen years. Not often.

"It never happens. Jenna turned away from the mirror and tugged down on her starchy, pristine-white catering blouse. There’s only me taking care of you now. I’m the responsible adult here who has to make sure you and Noah have what you need. Which is why I have to go through with this. Despite whatever weird stuff it says in that contract."

Bea opened her mouth to protest again but was interrupted by the tinny sound of the door chime.

Jenna’s face soured with distaste. She already knew who was at the door. She’d hoped Jade, her best friend, could watch the kids tonight, but it turned out they were both working the same event, so…she’d had to go with plan B. That’ll be Ms. Carmine, she murmured as she breezed past Bea.

I don’t see why we need her. Beatrice hissed as she followed Jenna to the front door. "I’m fourteen now. I could totally be a sitter."

Jenna ignored her and by the time they reached the door, Noah was already pressing his hand to the palm pad to let Ms. Carmine into the apartment.

Jenna adopted a forced smile and noticed Bea was doing the same.

Ms. Carmine stepped inside, clutching her bag in front of her of her with long, claw-like, bottle-green nails. Her dark eyes scanned the entryway, small den, and tiny kitchen and it was clear she disapproved of everything she saw.

Good evening, Ms. Carmine, Beatrice greeted.

Beatrice, you look like a ragamuffin, the woman snapped. When was the last time you combed your hair?

Ten minutes ago, Bea answered dutifully, and Jenna knew her sister had barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

Noah, you look like death warmed over, Ms. Carmine hissed. Then she turned her hawklike gaze on Jenna. Have you been feeding them properly? Are you giving Noah his treatments as scheduled?

Yes, Ms. Carmine. Jenna sighed, pulling her lips into a wider, clenched smile. I’m doing my best here, as usual.

Ugh. Slapping this woman wasn’t out of the question.

I don’t feel as bad as I look, Noah offered, though his words were undermined by a coughing fit.

Beatrice rushed over and patted him on the back, holding him steady and upright as the coughs racked his tiny frame. Jenna stared at them with worried eyes, heart breaking for her little brother. He was a sick kid, had been for a long time, yet he still managed to maintain one of the sweetest temperaments a human being could ever have.

You’re really going to leave all night while Noah is in such a state? Ms. Carmine scolded.

Jenna clenched her jaw. "It’s something I have to do. I’m doing it for Noah—for our family."

Ms. Carmine snorted. As if there’s anything you could be doing out there this late at night that isn’t wholly unsavory. Whatever it is you have on the agenda tonight isn’t something these children should be exposed to!

Dear god, this woman. It’s nothing ‘unsavory.’ You see my outfit? Jenna gestured at her catering uniform. I work for a catering company, Ms. Carmine, not a drug cartel. She turned to Beatrice and held out a hand. "Give me the dam-darned tablet so I can sign the contract and go."

Jenna, I have a bad feeling about this, Bea repeated for the thousandth time.

Yeah, Noah wheezed. You shouldn’t go. Stay home with us tonight.

Jenna gave him a long, worried look, and then snatched the tablet from Bea and pressed her palm to the screen to sign the contract. Bea sighed and shook her head. The tablet made a cheerful chirp of acknowledgment and Jenna handed it back.

She bent, cupped their cheeks in her hands, and looked them in the eyes. I’ll be fine, okay? Don’t worry. You two try and relax. Enjoy the evening and behave for Ms. Carmine, please.

They both nodded and Jenna swiveled to face the executioner.

Your mother wouldn’t like this, the older woman remarked.

Ouch, that hurt. Jenna hated it when this woman pretended to know what her mom would think. She forced another smile. She needed this woman’s help. Ms. Carmine was literally the only person available tonight in the right price range. And despite her crazy, Jenna knew she would actually watch the kids well. I believe my mother would be happy to see us all taken care of, Jenna replied, and she’d be understanding of the work I have do to do to make that happen…And thank you again for watching my brother and sister on such short notice. I’ll be home by midnight.

You’d better be. Don’t be late! the older woman snipped.

I won’t be late. Promise. Jenna agreed quickly as she edged her way past her siblings. She blew a final kiss to the kids and then slipped out the door.

Jenna tried to keep up her brave face as she marched down the hallway. She hated having to rely on Ms. Carmine. The older woman was a double-edged sword. She was the local sneak, who kept her eyes peeled for criminal or unseemly behavior and reported it to the local authorities, which, on the other hand, actually made her a good ally to have. Unfortunately, if Jenna were to step out of line even the slightest bit, she had no doubt in her mind that Ms. Carmine would also report her immediately.

Jenna just needed to return home by midnight—as planned—and then everything would be fine.

She hoped.

Chapter Two

Two hours later Jenna’s arms were made of lead.

Or marshmallow.

Marshmellead?

They sure as hell weren’t made of muscle and bone any longer, that was for sure. They were all heavy and noodley at the same time, no doubt due to the hefty trays of champagne flutes and hors d’oeuvres she’d been carrying around.

She worked the grand ballroom on the thirtieth floor of Drokten Main, which was pretty darn opulent. Vaulted ceilings soared above, and wide glossy windows lined one whole side of the room, overlooking the glittering light of the nighttime city. How much money could someone rack up just selling each individual piece of décor in this enormous event space? The number had to be astronomical. And that wasn’t even including the ridiculously expensive designer fashions and the sparkling jewelry worn by the guests.

It was just…wow. She’d worked nice events before, but this was certainly the fanciest. There were real celebrities in attendance as well as high-level politicians. A live jazz band played classy music. It was actually a little intimidating.

Her eyes scanned the room. Unfortunately, she’d been tasked with mainly serving the area where the human glitterati seemed to be gathered. Therefore, she hadn’t yet made it over to the Drokten, who weren’t eating any of the human food or drink.

She bit her lip, staring longingly at the blue warriors grouped across the room near the windows. This was her whole reason for being here—to make big bucks and also to see these alien heroes in real life. It was a huge upside to working the event, as far as she was concerned.

Seeing them from a distance was nice, but she’d love to get closer. Maybe even speak to one of them? Thank them for all they’d done, saving the world…

And then she felt something. A vibration in the air? A scent?

She turned to stare at them again, her eyes scanning the males. They were all so very handsome. Soft sky-blue skin over cut muscles. And none of them wore shirts. The Drokten were either bare chested or they