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  Galactic Inferno

  Mel Teshco

  Book 2 in the Alien Hunger series.

  Ally Grayson believes she’s the last person on Earth after aliens arrived, bringing with them a deadly virus that wiped out most of mankind.

  Somehow surviving the annihilation, she hides in a Sydney house with her dog, Bonnie. She knows she has to leave before the “eyes in the sky” detect her and have her captured, but she never expects an alien to save her and Bonnie from the jaws of a ravenous, feral dog. Never expects to be drawn to Renate, the alien male who seems more human than any man she’s ever known.

  She fights an attraction she can’t win, and soon enough she’s in his arms, under his hard, amazing body. Except their unearthly desire might not be enough to keep them together when Renate’s alien comrades close in.

  Galactic Inferno

  Mel Teshco

  Prologue

  She came to slowly, the scent of death assailing her senses even before she heard the whine of a dog. She opened her eyes to the canine’s fuzzy black and white face, its head coming closer still as its warm tongue slid across her cheek in a long, wet lick.

  She swiped away the sticky saliva and half-sat, peering around the room. Her heart stopped, the blood draining from her face as her eyes jerked wide. She opened her mouth in a silent scream.

  Oh dear god, no.

  Two beautiful children lay dead either side of her, their lips blue and their little bodies stiff and yellow.

  She scrabbled backward until she hit a wall. “No.” She shook her head, swallowing past a thick lump in her throat. The little boy and girl—hers?—were dead. What happened? And what was she doing here with them?

  Bloody hell. Why can’t I remember anything?

  She sucked in a breath as the room slowly spun around her and she flushed hot and then cold. She tucked her feet close, clasping her knees to her chest as she pressed against the wall.

  The dog sat on its haunches, watching her with its head tilted to the side. And that’s when she saw the pages and pages of crayon drawings littering the floor all around them.

  Had she been trying to keep the children occupied?

  She climbed to her feet, swaying for a moment and forcing herself not to black out. Not to retch.

  One of the pictures lay face up, a child’s awkward, stick-like drawing of a man and a woman. Written beneath in an adult’s hand were the words Ally and Luke.

  Luke? Who was he? She swallowed hard. Had he left them here to die?

  Another picture showed a cartoonish dog. Beneath the image was the name Bonnie.

  She turned back to the dog and rasped, “Bonnie.”

  The animal trotted over, tail pluming through the air. She stroked the dog’s head, taking meager comfort from Bonnie’s dispassionate doggy expression. She scanned the room, noting the two buckets against the far wall that held water, another two filled with dry dog biscuits.

  They’d expected to be down here for a while?

  A set of stairs led upward to another floor, where a door was partially cracked open.

  “I’ve…I’ve got to get out of here,” she breathed.

  She ran up the stairs and Bonnie followed hot on her heels. Ally was only too glad of the company when she pushed the door open all the way—to find the body of a man lying face down, as though he’d been running from someone. Something?

  “Luke,” she whispered. Somehow she knew this man was the one and same in the drawing. The same man who’d left them for dead.

  Chapter One

  Ally Grayson stared in the mirror at her snarled, dark burgundy hair, feeling strangely bereft of emotion, an outsider looking in on the horror of someone else’s life.

  Her glossy, long locks had once been her best asset. Not anymore. Without the convenience of running water and with the apocalyptic ash and grit constantly in the air, it had become high maintenance and impractical. She didn’t need to be halfway pretty anymore. In fact, far better to look repulsive than attract alien attention.

  Ally lifted the scissors and snipped. Tears etched relentless tracks down her cheeks as clumps of red-brown hair dropped to the off-white tiles, as though blood on bone.

  Dear lord. She tightened her hold on the scissors until her knuckles shone white. She’d been living a hell on earth, grief an indigestible ball in her gut—and it’d taken a haircut for the weeping to start?

  She swallowed hard. One day she’d give into the rage, the raw grief, the anguish that constantly ripped and gouged with long black nails into her defenses, her sanity.

  But not now. Please…not now.

  If she gave into the self-pity, she just mightn’t find the will to keep going.

  Tossing the scissors into the vanity sink, she dragged a hand through the choppy, wispy layers of her short hair even as she pushed back a whole lot of fresh, unwanted pain. Scrubbing away her tears with the backs of her hands, she drew in a breath and turned away from the mess on the floor, the mess of her thoughts, before she stalked into the darkened lounge room.

  Pulling aside the heavy brocade curtain, she peered through the grimy bay window. Though dark, ominous clouds were piling on the horizon, the midday sun blazed directly outside, streaming through the branches of a jacaranda tree in full, amethyst bloom and glinting against the windshields of stationary, dusty cars on the deserted street.

  She shivered, despite the sweltering day that caused rivulets of sweat to run down her spine and stick her white tee against her back.

  Never had she felt more alone.

  Her gaze lifted heavenward, searching for the alien aircraft that’d begun sweeping the area only yesterday. Thankfully, the sky appeared empty aside from a couple of crows wheeling high overhead.

  If being totally alone was something out of her worst nightmares, then being captured by the very bastards who’d decimated the planet would most certainly be her worst kind of suffering.

  She’d had brief, intermittent memory flashes of the televised news announcing alien arrival and the virus they’d brought with them. A virus that felled people where they stood, turning their skin an awful yellow and their lips blue.

  Not unlike the two children in the cellar that she’d come to remember as her stepchildren. The man in the house, her ex-husband.

  She squeezed her eyes shut as a shaft of pain ripped outward from her heart and into her head, before fading to a dull ache behind her temples.

  Why she’d been spared was never far from her mind, especially since her memories had started to return. Her flashbacks had gained momentum recently, like a car careening downhill without brakes, flashbacks that skipped back and forth in time with no rhyme or reason. In some ways she wished the recollections had stayed buried and forgotten. At least then she’d have nothing to compare this terrible existence with, have nothing to miss.

  Her hands fisted on the fabric. She might have been spared from the virus, but she’d sooner take her own life than allow even a single alien to find her…to take her.

  Freedom was her primary goal, survival of secondary importance.

  She’d been hiding in this house for weeks, months even. But time had ceased to have meaning, ceased to matter. There was no longer an alarm clock to wake her up for an important client meeting. No adoring husband and children to rush home to and take into her arms.

  No. Nothing.

  But she had to move on, find another safe house with a fully stocked pantry and bottled water. God only knew she was running low. Besides which, some sixth sense told her she needed to leave ASAP.

  She’d learned to trust her instincts.

  Except…somewhere along the way this house had become her home, her sanctuary away from the once bloated and rotting corpses outside covered with flies and putrefy
ing the air. Away from the dog packs with a powerful taste for human flesh, their muzzles bloodied as they gorged on human remains.

  Perverse really, since her beloved Bonnie had been the one and only thing to keep her sane.

  She unknotted her hands and released the curtain. It swished shut before she turned and called the large, fluffy dog of indeterminate breed. “Bonnie, come.”

  Bonnie clambered to her feet and trotted over, her pink tongue lolling, her liquid brown eyes expressing her devotion as she sat just shy of Ally’s booted feet.

  Ally absently ran a hand over the dog’s silky black and white head. “It’s time we left here, girl.” Not just because of their dwindling food supplies. Staying too long in the one house meant the threat of being discovered would be that much higher. She had to keep on the move and stay clear of the eyes in the sky.

  Bonnie heaved a doggy sigh, as if in agreement. And Ally’s lips twitched in perhaps the first smile she’d managed in far too long. “Glad I have your approval.”

  She gathered up the bulging backpack crammed with essentials. A medical kit, a change of clothes, toilet paper, canned food for them both, bowls, matches, a flashlight, batteries, a sharp knife wrapped in a towel and the last two bottles of water.

  Bonnie followed at her heels, as if totally cognizant of the decision made.

  Ally paused, taking in the darkened lounge room. Comfortable, easy-to-clean sofas, a baby grand, a plasma and Xbox spoke volumes about the house once belonging to a young family—a mother and father along with their son and two daughters.

  A floorboard creaked beneath her booted feet as she stepped toward the apricot feature wall that overflowed with portraits. Lifting a hand, she ran a finger along the gold frame of one family shot. Her vision blurred and swam. She could barely make out the smiling faces and blonde good looks of the people who’d lived there—and who no longer existed.

  She sucked in a shuddering breath. Just the same as her family, these people were long gone. Dead. Wiped out by the same virus that had seemingly taken the life of every single human on the planet.

  Everyone but me.

  Fingers interlacing behind her head, she closed her eyes for a moment, willing back composure. She couldn’t lose it now, not with those asshole aliens lurking in the skies.

  Damn it! The bastards hadn’t even needed to lift a finger to destroy her kind. Clever, really. And cowardly right to their core.

  Hatred for them welled up inside, burning through her veins until she felt fevered and ill.

  She walked a dangerous line harboring such emotions. Too much hatred could push her over the edge, see her do something stupid and really mess things up. Just enough hatred kept her strong, kept her going, like a slow release fuel.

  Yes, she wanted to survive, but she wanted desperately to keep her freedom, to keep on going with the fragile hope other humans lived too.

  She snagged the dog leash off the front door handle and clipped it on to Bonnie’s collar. On the rare moments they ventured outside, Ally made sure they were inseparable. She swallowed. She was too scared to let loose her one friend left in the world. She’d never cope if Bonnie disappeared too.

  Just like everyone else she’d ever loved.

  “Bonnie, sit.”

  Ally opened the door a crack. No movement, no odd sounds. And yet…

  She drew in a steadying breath. All the running and hiding, the uncertainty was getting to her.

  In the distance a gray, smoky haze indicated some of the city fires were still raging. She shivered a little. Already much of Sydney had been reduced to ash. She only hoped the outer suburbs would stay clear of the intercity infernos.

  Perhaps the steadily building clouds would dump enough rain to put out the fires.

  “Let’s go, Bonnie.”

  Ally half-crouched as she jogged through the front yard and out through the olive-green painted wire gate, Bonnie’s shaggy tail waving through the air as she loped easily alongside.

  Alert to any sound, any movement, she kept close to the buildings as she slowed to a walk, severely tempted to drive one of the many cars sitting in any number of garages, keys already in the ignition. Except the roads were cluttered with vehicles of all descriptions, most of them containing more than forgotten keys inside.

  She shook her head. She wouldn’t risk drawing attention to herself from the sky patrol. At least on foot she made barely a sound.

  A loud crack sounded somewhere behind her, as if something—someone?—had trod on a stick or a broken fragment of glass. She stilled. Her pulse jerked crazily. She wanted almost desperately to slink into the nearest house. But that was madness. If the aliens had even a vague idea of where she’d been hiding, she needed to get much farther away.

  Bonnie whined uncertainly. The hairs on the back of Ally’s nape prickled. She sucked in a horrified breath and slowly turned around.

  Alien.

  For a moment, one infinitesimal beat, she froze, as if a mouse in the presence of a cobra. Dear Lord, he’s beautiful. And unlike any alien she’d ever imagined. He was almost human. But not.

  He was bare-chested and huge. Big shoulders, dark brown hair shorn close to his scalp and a primal yearning in his brilliant, unnatural green stare that caused goose bumps to prickle all over her body and her nipples to tighten unwillingly beneath her tee shirt.

  She sucked in a horrified, yet awestruck breath as her stare dropped low. Pants made from a stretchy, glove-like material rode low on his hips to hug the bulging arousal of his cock.

  He wanted her.

  Over my dead body.

  And yet, something carnal clenched hard within even before she tore her eyes away with a vicious curse, forcing her body to spin around, her legs to move fast. Shit. It was like pulling away an oversized pin from a powerful magnet—almost impossible.

  But as though released from a force field, she was suddenly sprinting for all she was worth, dodging abandoned cars and motorbikes, leaping over an upturned shopping trolley and a fallen tree limb, her heavy backpack bouncing between her shoulder blades. Bonnie seemed to sense her fear as she raced alongside, her ears flat to her skull.

  Ally was breathing hard as she rounded a corner hardware store, sharp chunks of glass glinting on the pavement from its partly shattered storefront window. She didn’t pause. The alien wouldn’t be far behind.

  Oh, God.

  A block of apartments loomed ahead, the courtyard gate swinging a little in the breeze. She pushed her legs harder, lungs burning for oxygen.

  Racing through the gate and the paved courtyard, she sent a prayer heavenward that at least one of the ground apartment front doors weren’t locked. She’d discovered that many front doors were left ajar or unlocked, dying homeowners clearly not all that concerned for their safety.

  Both doors were closed. She swung to the door of apartment two and fumbled with its door handle. It was locked. “Crap.” Heart hammering, she glanced behind her. A sudden breeze jerked the gate open then shut and skittered some paper and debris along the street.

  No sign of the alien.

  Jerking around, she dashed to the other apartment. The door knob twisted easily under her hands. She stepped into the apartment with Bonnie at her heels, slamming the door behind them and sliding its two deadbolts into place.

  Panting and heart still racing, she took in the musty smelling room. Closed blinds sealed out most of the sunlight and shadows loomed long and dark before her. Lounge room, dining and kitchen in one, she realized as her eyes adjusted to the gloom. A shabby old sofa sat in front of a little box television on a glass cabinet. A kitchen counter of indeterminate color hugged the far wall, an old stove and a tiny refrigerator at either end.

  Next to the refrigerator an opened doorway revealed a small bedroom. Partially opened blinds allowed in a crack of light and she could just make out a mussed bed, a side table with its top drawer jutting out.

  She shivered. Though there was no sign or rotting scent of a deceased body, someth
ing didn’t feel right about this place. She’d stay here only as long as she needed to before she travelled farther afield, to the very outskirts of Sydney.

  Bonnie growled long and low in her throat, her hackles rising.

  Ally touched the dog’s head, fingers gently stroking. “It’s okay,” she murmured. She had to keep Bonnie quiet at all cost. “The alien is outside…somewhere. We’re safe for now.”

  But they weren’t. That same instinct for survival was even now jarring her senses, making her heart pound and sending blood pumping through her body.

  They might have evaded the alien, but they weren’t alone.

  A ferocious snarl erupted from inside the bedroom. She gasped when a brindle-colored dog emerged in the opened doorway. Even in the gloom she could see the animal was emaciated, its ribcage protruding along with the notches of its spine.

  The dog took a step forward, its growl deepening, threatening. Bonnie whimpered, clearly sensing the starving dog was about to attack. Hunting to survive.

  She glanced at the pantry, imagining all the canned dog meat she’d undoubtedly find. She looked back at the front door and mentally shook her head. She wasn’t going back outside, not for anything. She’d take her chances with the dog.

  Bonnie strained against the leash as Ally maneuvered away from the front door, edging toward a dusty round table and four chairs even as the dog stalked forward, teeth bared and hunger all but emanating from him.

  What breed was it? Staffordshire bull terrier? Pit bull? She couldn’t be certain. But by the look of its thick skull and strong jaw it was a fighting machine—starved or not.

  Fuck.

  Moving around the table, she realized just how much trouble she really was in. Her stomach lurched, fear ratcheting up to a whole new level. Beside the bedroom door lay a half-gnawed human skull.

  The dog abruptly charged. And Ally watched as if in slow motion, frozen inside and unable to move.

  Bonnie leaped forward, jerking the leash from her hand and meeting the other dog halfway. The dogs crashed to the floor with canine teeth sinking deep. Bonnie, no! The rich scent of blood tainted the air when she forced her limbs to move. Taking hold of the nearest chair and stumbling forward, she brought it down with all her strength on to the attacking dog’s back.