Chapter 3
The building quaked, and Elora cast another worried glance outside, peering through the bullet holes in the boards that covered the nearest window.
Rebel hovercrafts zipped through the sky, aiming beams of red at the U.S.
military forces below. Armored tanks thundered down the street, shooting at the invaders in the sky.
Several houses and businesses across town were aflame, and Elora didn’t know whether she should stay put or attempt to flee.
“What are you doing? Get away from the window!” Mr. Parker said. He rushed forward with his grandson, and after Elora stepped aside, they hurriedly replaced the bullet-riddled board with a new one.
“Sorry,” she muttered. “I just wanted to see what was going on.” She walked to the back of the diner and slipped into a booth.
With each boom, her fear increased.
She still couldn’t believe what was happening.
Two days ago as she was driving through this town—Grantville—someone fired at her solar car, causing her to crash into a parked hovercraft.
After she’d fled her vehicle with nothing but the clothes on her back—and thankfully, her phone—she’d taken cover behind a nearby house.
Then she’d watched helplessly as a rebel vessel flew overhead and destroyed what was left of her solar car, as well as all her belongings.
She’d eventually found refuge in Parker’s Diner.
She glanced around the restaurant. About a dozen people were hiding here—customers and employees who’d become trapped during the air raid.
How long would the fighting continue?
The emergency lights in the diner flickered, and Elora wondered how much longer they would last. Eventually, the diner would be plunged into darkness. And eventually, they would run out of food and water.
She couldn’t stay here forever, and even if the fighting stopped, she was still in a difficult place.
She’d lost her solar car and all her belongings.
Her funds were also frozen—standard protocol when an arrest warrant was issued—and she couldn’t even use her phone to pay for a hotel room or a cup of coffee.
Even if she wanted to try to clear her name, she was too far away from Oakdale to return on foot.
She withdrew her phone from her pocket and pulled up her acceptance email from the Vaxxlian Alien Mail Order Brides program, and her heart started racing.
Yesterday afternoon, during an especially loud and violent phase of the battle, she’d hastily applied for VAMOB. She’d received an acceptance email only an hour later. The email even included the name of the Vaxxlian warrior she’d been matched with.
Warrin.
According to the email, he would arrive soon to collect her. She prayed he would get here before the fighting grew more intense—or worse, the diner was destroyed.
Guilt settled over her as she looked around at all the frightened faces.
She hadn’t told anyone that she’d signed up for VAMOB in a moment of desperation.
She still couldn’t believe she’d done it; however, she didn’t see another way out.
She hoped the others in the diner would survive the battle unscathed.
Not for the first time, she cursed Tobias’s name.
She still couldn’t believe there was a warrant out for her arrest—shocking news Rory had texted her during her first full day on the road.
She seriously doubted Oakdale or the surrounding precincts would bother trying to track her down, but just knowing Tobias had orchestrated such a plot filled her with heartache and anger.
Thoughts of Rory also filled Elora with guilt.
She hadn’t answered her friend’s most recent texts, nor had she told her about her impending departure from Earth.
She hoped to finally tell Rory once she was officially safe.
If she confessed that she’d found herself in the middle of a war zone, Rory would only worry.
There were unanswered calls and texts from her parents and brother too—congratulatory messages, as well as requests for wedding photos. They still didn’t know what had happened. Again, she wanted to wait until she was somewhere safe before she contacted them.
Who would’ve guessed that “somewhere safe” would be New Vaxx?
She glanced at the time. It was mid-morning. Exhaustion weighed her down. Between the constant blasts and sirens, she hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. She also hadn’t bathed properly in several days. She suddenly realized she was a mess, and she rushed to the bathroom and shut the door.
Peering at herself in the mirror, she frowned at the dark circles that rimmed her eyes, as well as the dirt that smudged her cheeks. She quickly washed her face, then used her fingers to comb her hair.
Her clothes were filthy from navigating the streets during the fighting until she’d found refuge at the diner, but that couldn’t be helped. Hopefully Warrin wouldn’t mind the dirt. Hopefully he would allow her to shower before they consummated their mating union.
Heat pulsed through her at the full realization of what she’d done. She’d signed up for the VAMOB program. She’d agreed to marry a Vaxxlian warrior—a complete stranger. By applying for VAMOB, she’d also agreed to live on New Vaxx.
Maybe she was an idiot to think the fighting would eventually stop. Maybe the United States was truly in a decline from which it wouldn’t emerge, at least not during her lifetime.
She exited the bathroom and looked at the boarded-up windows. She didn’t like being unable to see outside. The emergency lights flickered again as she slid back into her booth.
She grabbed her phone and stared at Rory’s most recent texts. Maybe she shouldn’t keep her friend in the dark about what was going on. What if the fighting reached Oakdale? She’d heard whispers of rebels hiding out in the forest near the town. Perhaps it was only a matter of time.
After drawing in a deep breath, she typed a message to Rory.
I signed up for VAMOB yesterday, and I’ve been matched with a Vaxxlian warrior named Warrin.
I’m expecting him to arrive soon. Please don’t be worried.
I will message you again once I’m safely on his ship—or perhaps on New Vaxx.
The fighting is worse than I imagined. I should’ve listened to you.
I’m sorry. Please don’t be worried, and please promise you’ll consider VAMOB if the fighting reaches Oakdale. Stay safe. Can’t talk now. Love you.
She hit the “send” button, then immediately shoved her phone in her pocket.
Her mind reeled. For a moment, she considered contacting her parents and brother, but she quickly decided against it.
Despite living in California—over two thousand miles from her present location in central Tennessee—her father and brother would probably try to mount a rescue mission.
She despaired over the prospect of any harm coming to them, and she resolved to stay quiet until Warrin rescued her.
The strong, independent side of her bristled at having to sign up for VAMOB because she needed to be rescued.
But perhaps it was for the best. If the country truly was in a decline, it was better to leave while she still had the chance—before it became too dangerous for Vaxxlian warriors to travel to the United States.
She suddenly realized the blasts hadn’t sounded in a few minutes, and people were starting to get up and cast curious glances toward the boarded-up windows. Mr. Parker approached the front window where a small crack in the boards allowed him to peek out.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he eventually said.
“The fighting has stopped and there’s a Vaxxlian cruiser parked in the middle of the street.
A Vaxxlian warrior is speaking with government forces, and it looks like a friendly conversation.
They’re shaking hands. Oh, wait—now the big alien fellow is walking this way.
Maybe he heard about our world-famous pancakes. ”
Elora felt faint. She started trembling, but she forced herself to remain upright, even when her legs felt so weak with nerves that she feared she might collapse. But she didn’t want Warrin to think she was a coward, so she summoned strength she didn’t realize she had and walked closer to the door.
“I think the Vaxxlian is here for me,” she said, looking at Mr. Parker. “Yesterday, when the fighting was especially bad, I signed up for VAMOB and listed the diner’s address as my pickup location.”
A few gasps sounded behind her, but she didn’t turn around. Mrs. Parker appeared at her side and placed a comforting hand on her arm.
“I’m not going to try to talk you out of this,” the elderly woman said. “I just wanted to say good luck.”
“Thank you,” Elora said, glancing between Mr. and Mrs. Parker. “Thank you for letting me into your diner and keeping me safe these past two days. I know I can’t make any promises, but I’m going to ask Warrin—that’s my mate’s name—if he can help evacuate everyone from the diner.”
“We appreciate the offer,” Mr. Parker said, “but I don’t think there’s anywhere else in town that’s safer. It’s probably best to wait out the fighting.” He hurried to remove the boards from the door, then unlocked it.
Her guilt from earlier returned. She felt bad that she was about to be out of danger, but the rest of the people in the diner would still be at the mercy of the government forces and the rebels.
She prayed the fighting would truly end soon.
She lamented the thought of anything bad happening to these kind people.
“Somehow, Warrin got the U.S. military and the rebels to pause their fighting,” she said. “Maybe whatever he did to get them to stop can be… extended.”
As she exchanged goodbyes with the Parkers, the door swung open, flooding the diner with light.
A massive figure stood in the doorway, and she blinked against the sudden brightness as she attempted to make out the Vaxxlian male’s features.
He stepped inside and the door closed behind him, blocking the light.
Then she saw him—really saw him. Her pulse fluttered.
He was handsome, ruggedly so, with a square jaw and high cheekbones.
Tall and broad-shouldered, his black warrior’s uniform fit like it had been made for him alone, emphasizing every sculpted line of his frame.
His skin held a warm, sun-bronzed hue, and he had the most vivid green eyes she’d ever seen.
Why were her hands trembling at her sides?
Was it nerves or awe that was making it so difficult to breathe?
Her head whirled as heat continued spreading through her—heat that seemed to tighten and pulse in her nether region.
She couldn’t help it. She’d never beheld such a strikingly handsome male in all her life.
The tall Vaxxlian warrior closed the distance between them in two long strides. His vivid otherworldly eyes shimmered with hope as he stared down at her. “Hello,” he said in Galactic Common, his voice a deep but soothing rumble. “Are you… Elora?”
The way he said her name—with a faint roll to the r—sent more flutters of heat through her.
“Hello,” she managed, also in Galactic Common, her voice thinner than she intended. “Yes, I am Elora. Are you Warrin?” Just saying his name stirred something in her… an undulating warmth that spread low and deep. Her thoughts scattered under the strength of his nearness.
“Yes, I am Warrin.” He reached for her right hand and clasped it between both of his.
Her mouth went dry as she glanced down at his huge hands, which engulfed hers.
Then she craned her neck to meet his gaze again.
He was over three heads taller than she was—which put him at about seven and a half feet.
Everything about him was large and powerful.
But his eyes gleamed with a warmth that put her at ease.
“I am pleased to meet you, Warrin,” she said. “And I am grateful that you were able to get the fighting to stop, however briefly.” Dare she ask him to help the people of this town? Was there even anything he could do?
“I am pleased to meet you as well, Elora.” A brief smile tugged at his lips. “The fighting shouldn’t resume—at least not here in Grantville. I convinced the rebels to vacate the area, and the U.S. military will be moving out soon.”
“How’d you manage that?” Mr. Parker asked.
“I paid them.” Another grin played at the corners of Warrin’s mouth. “I must confess, I was shocked when they accepted my offer. I was about to fire on the rebels’ ships when the idea came to me.”
Elora stared at him in shock. She wanted to ask how much he’d paid both sides, but she worried the question might be considered rude, so she remained silent while Mr. Parker and other people in the diner stepped forward to offer their thanks as they filed out the door.
Even the Parkers stepped outside, their grandson eager to check on his neighborhood friends.
“Elora, are you ready to leave?” Warrin asked once they were alone.
“Yes, I’m ready.” Her pulse thundered in her ears.
Was she truly ready? Just a week ago, she’d been preparing for her wedding—to Tobias.
Her life had changed drastically in the span of a few days.
When she’d fled Oakdale, despite her promise to Rory, she never anticipated she would actually have to apply to the VAMOB program.
She never imagined she would be getting married/mated—for real—so soon.
Especially not to a stranger from another world.
Warrin nodded and then glanced around the diner. “Do you have any belongings you wish to bring?”
Shame heated Elora’s face. “No, I-I don’t have anything to bring with me.
” She swallowed hard. “Um, I was on a road trip, and I was passing through Grantville when there was an air raid. My solar car was destroyed, along with all my possessions. I was lucky that the owners of this diner saw me outside, and they waved me over and allowed me to seek refuge here while the fighting continued.”
Concern flared in the alien’s eyes. “I am sorry that happened to you.” He threaded his fingers through hers, clasping her hand tightly, and guided her toward the door. “Come with me to my Vaxxlian cruiser, and I will keep you safe.”