Page 2 of Theirs to Crave

“I couldn’t help it!” Mariano said. “I didn’t mean to hurt her, I just...,” he trailed off. “It hit me all of a sudden that I was with her because it was easy, not because I couldn’t live without her.”

I winced, thankful he was looking at the road and not at me.

“She’s a great person, but she’s not mi cielo, Estrella. I want what Dad and Mamá had. What Nana and Tata had. And Renéedeserves that too.”

He fell silent, hands clenching and flexing repeatedly on the wheel.

My hand was cupping my stomach, though I didn’t remember moving it. I clenched it into a fist and punched him in the arm. “She’s probably cursing you as we speak—and I don’t blame her. Idiota.” I let him stew in his guilt for a few minutes, then relented. “You’ll find your person. You’re a good man. When you remember to pull your head out of your ass.”

He reached over and tweaked my hair, leaving his arm stretched across the seat behind me. I sighed, flipping my hair and straightening my bangs. We drove like that for a fewminutes, the lights from passing cars briefly illuminating our troubled faces.

“You’ll find your person, too.” Mariano said into the quiet. He raised his voice, talking over my disagreeing snort. “Drake was a fucking asshole. You’re worth five of him.”

I viciously silenced the echo of my ex-husband’s snarky voice that hissed Iwasfive of him. Weak-assed bastard didn’t get to talk to me like that, especially in my own head.

“I mean it,” Mariano insisted. “You’re gorgeous, funny, and sweet as hell. Can’t help it, being my twin.” I groaned at that, and he grinned. “Some smart dude is going to take one look at you and drag you to church, then keep you pregnant and in the kitchen where you belong.”

“A la verga!” I spluttered, biting my cheeks as he roared with laughter. Only my brother would think misogyny was a good choice for comforting someone. The fact that it worked probably said something about me, but I didn’t feel like unpacking it. “Renée’s too good for you—” I’d just started my loving insult when lights speared through the windshield, stadium bright and pointed straight at us. I screamed, slapping my hands onto the dash as my body braced for impact.

Mariano bit off a curse and jerked the wheel to the right, trying to avoid what had to be a semi-truck barreling towards us.

We careened off the road, gravel and dirt spraying, and abruptly slammed to a stop. The car rocked. Outside, everything was still and quiet. Inside, our breaths rasped over the roar of my pounding heart and the rumble of the engine. What the hell just happened?

My hands fluttered over my chest, my legs, reassuring myself I was still in one piece. “¿Estás bien? Where the hell did that truck come from?”

“Fuck, I don’t even know where it went! I’m ok, though. You?” He twisted the key in the ignition, the silence making my ears pop as he turned towards me and slapped the overhead light.

“I’m going to be sore tomorrow,” I groaned, rotating my neck gingerly as my eyes searched the night. Every muscle in my body had locked, expecting to be flattened like a bug on a windshield, and now they ached and twitched, trying to recalibrate. “But I’m ok. Good reflexes.” We shared a strained smile.

Movement flickered in the darkness behind Mariano, but before I could do more than squint, his door burst open.

Arms clamped around him—so many arms, strange in a way my brain couldn’t process—and I shouted, lunging towards him. My seatbelt brought me up short. I fumbled at it, panic making my vision darken and our mingled shouts sound far away. Air rushed at my back, and I’d just begun to twist, wanting to face whatever was coming for me, when pain exploded at the base of my skull. The last thing I saw before darkness descended was my brother’s rage filled grimace as he fought to get to me, hand outstretched.

???

A rank smell hit my nose, and I grunted, sluggishly lifting my arm to cover my face. The reek crawled down the back of my throat, squatting there like a toad. God, that was nasty. Like an uncleaned porta potty after a weekend festival, baking in the sun next to the food carts’ dumpster.

“I need a shower,” I mumbled.

“Hssstch zzklit, irrsk tz bzzit’ka gretzak herrtza! Gizztek sa svet kezz tz hrritz!” The hissing sounds were loud, vibrating against the inside of my skull like swarming bees. Really big bees. Great Dane sized bees. What the hell were the neighbors doing now?

“Escúchame, pendejos. I don’t know what the fuck you’re saying, but you’re not getting near us with that shit.”

Wait. That was Mariano. Why was he in my room? And why was he so mad? He sounded mean as hell.

I spasmed fully awake as memories cascaded over me. Being run off the road. All thosearms. Mariano and I being dragged from the car. Pain. My breaths came short and choppy as I scrambled into a crouch, stiff muscles screaming at the movement. I tried to look everywhere at once, unable to focus.

I finally realized what I was seeing and my lungs seized.

We were in a grimy room with one closed metal door on the far side. Raised panels protruded from the walls, with metal platforms splattered with smears and rivulets of things I refused to think about set in the corners. Screens hung above them, flickering with incomprehensible symbols, but I only spared them a glance. My attention was on the three creatures whose hulking forms filled the center of the room.

Aliens.

Monsters.

I bit back a scream and tasted blood. They had four spindly arms each, but I knew from experience those arms were strong as steel, not weak or delicate. They were huge, eight or nine feet tall and almost as long. Their bodies lacked any softness,swampy gray skin stretched over hard, vaguely insectoid lower halves held up by four wiry legs. The one on the left had a ring of six glittering eyes above its wide, lipless maw, but the other two had too many to count. My stomach turned, nausea making me woozy.

“M-Mariano?” I felt like I was moving in slow motion, my lips taking endless heartbeats to shape his name. My throat was so tight I was surprised any sound came out at all.