Red Passion

Rio had turned to deposit the now empty skillet into the sink, leaving steaming plates of chicken and steamed vegetables on the counter before her. At her words, he turned to regard her with a steady gaze, letting her know he'd read right through her phony words. "You can't hide forever, Em. He can't hurt you anymore. If you keep hiding, you're still giving him that power over you."

Emily turned away from his searching stare. "I know. I'm just not ready to face him yet." She couldn't help the shiver that coursed through her, and closed her eyes so Rio wouldn't see the sheer terror she felt at the possibility of running into Mark.

She heard him sigh. The next thing Emily knew, he was slipping his ropey arms around her from behind, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of her head. "Alright, we'll stay home, but I get to pick the flicks this time," his deep voice murmured behind her.

She smiled, her heart melting just a little and clasped his arms around herself tighter. "You don't like Joyce's taste in movies?"

Rio scoffed. "If it isn't one of her B-D-S-M flicks where some poor unsuspecting dude gets screwed over by some gargantuan female, it's her all time favorite. Kill Bill, parts one and two."

Emily laughed.

* * *

Red Passion lay broken and bleeding on the floor. He floated in and out of consciousness, listening to the angry voices of women over him. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing could save him now. After Kiss and the other pets had beaten him within an inch of his life, he'd felt the cold blade of a knife slice open his face from temple to chin. He was useless now as a pet. The only thing he was good for was a swift and merciful death.

What would death feel like? He wondered about it the time he lay beneath the punishing rays of the suns seven years ago, gasping for breath through a parched throat. He wondered about it now.

He felt himself being turned over, the pain making him whimper. It was such a weak sound. Pathetic. Something soft was wrapped around his entire body and he was lifted. The jarring movements made him black out, but he awakened later surrounded by silence and darkness.

Everything hurt so much, but it would be over soon. Ruined pets were tossed into the sea. He imagined the creatures living beneath the surface of the waters would consume what was left of him. Would it hurt—being eaten? He never pondered this before. Could pain be any more intense than it was now? It hurt to breathe. The silence was deafening, nothing but his breathing and beating heart sounded in his ears. He considered lifting his head to look around, but the very thought of the pain that would spur made him want to vomit. That would only bring about more pain, unless he blacked out first.

Time lost meaning as he awaited the watery grave that never came. Perhaps they'd discarded his body elsewhere, but where? Darkness and silence surround him, so they hadn't abandoned him in the desert. He felt hungry... and thirsty. Mayhap he was already inside a trash incinerator, but whatever he was lying upon felt soft.

Had his Mistress Azana entombed him? Some mistresses encased their most prized pets in tombs, showcasing the memory of the pet for eternity. How kind of her, especially after seeing how hideous he'd become after Kiss had sliced open his face. She was a good woman. He felt he didn't deserve such an honor. Mistress Azana spoiled him more than she did her other pets. He wondered if she placed the tomb in her garden where she'd enjoyed their moments of pleasant fucking. No other pet could make the Mistress come as hard as he did. It was why he'd become her prime pet, and eventually the reason why Betana had grown to envy Mistress Azana. He wasn't just another pretty face. At least he hadn't been. Now he would become food for maggots. How long would it take? Was she outside of his tomb right now?

He was being silly and conceited. Mistress had better things to do than waste her time mourning a pet. He should be grateful she'd entombed him instead of feeding him to the sea-creatures or tossing him into the city incinerator as they did other males.

Red Passion drifted in and out of consciousness, awaiting death. He no longer felt the burn of hunger, but his tongue felt heavy and his eyes dry behind blood-swelled lids. Feeling brave, he moved his fingers, slowly pulling the sheet covering him. Cool air caressed his face. He tried opening his eyes, but only managed to open one—barely. The other was swollen shut. He didn't know what he expected to see, but stars certainly would not have been one of his guesses. He was in mistress Azana's space pod—out in space.

* * *

Joyce had grown tired of the celery sticks and carrots, and headed out to town for "some real goodies" as she drawled on the way out the door. Meanwhile, Emily watched Rio put on a sci-fi flick, and then make himself comfortable by lying on her overstuffed couch. Once he had his head comfortably set on her lap, he hit the play button.

She absentmindedly stroked his hair while they both watched the movie.

Like the majority of cheesy movies Rio rented, this one was about a hot male alien who'd crash-landed on Earth. A dumb, busty blond finds him and gives him refuge in her home. She cares for his wounds and feeds him, and before long they're falling in love while running from authorities trying to get their hands on the sexy alien.

She didn't know exactly when she drifted off, but she knew the moment she saw the space pod falling into her pond that Red Passion would be inside it. Emily ran to the pod and there he was, kneeling in the muddy bank, his head bowed in deference with his crimson tresses flowing over his gorgeous body. He was naked and aroused—for her.

"My Mistress," he sighed.

She knelt before him, sinking her fingers into his mane. His hair was so silky, soft. She wanted to lift his face, to glimpse the beauty she suspected the red locks hid. Emily licked her lips, wanting desperately to kiss his shyness away. "You don't have to call me mistress."

A bark of laughter had her snapping her eyes open. Rio's shocked blue eyes were mere inches from hers because she had her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him in for a kiss that he evidently didn't want, meanwhile, Joyce's laughter bounced off the walls.

"Oh-my-God, Rio," she gushed releasing him as Joyce continued to hoot. "I'm so sorry."

Joyce wiped at the corners of her chocolate eyes. "Honey, you definitely need to get laid if you're trying to seduce little-ole' Rio in your sleep."

Rio rolled his eyes at Joyce. "I tried to convince her to go into the city, but..."

The lights in the house flickered off.

Emily blinked in the sudden gloom, confused.

"Emily, hon, did you not pay your light bill?" Joyce drawled somewhere in the dark.

Emily eyes widened when she saw a fiery streak through the windows that lined the back of the kitchen, growing bigger every second. "W-what is tha..."

White light, so intense it stunned Emily into silence, blinded her. Eyes hurting, she turned her face away, instinctively shielding herself with her arms, all the while aware of a droning sound coming from outside. The second the light died away, the power came back on in the house.

"What the hell was that?" Emily finally finished saying.

She rushed to the back door and flipped on all the outdoor lights. The ones surrounding the pond flickered but remained unlit.

"Rio, grab the flashlights," she shouted, trying to squint into the darkness surrounding the pond fifty feet away. The wind made the trees rustle and sway, making goose bumps raise on her arms, but she couldn't make anything out.

"You're not thinking of going out there, are you?" Joyce said, her voice shrill with panic.

Emily looked over her shoulder to see Joyce's eyes wide with fright. She stood a few paces behind Emily, while Rio made a racket trying to grab the biggest and heaviest copper frying pan from the rack above Emily's stove. Once he'd found his perfect weapon, he hefted it over his brawny shoulder like a baseball bat, eyes round with fear.

Emily shook her head and turned to squint into the darkness around the pond. Though there wasn't much light, she could make out the form of something big and egg-shaped at the edge of her pond. Upstairs, Tabitha barked and howled frantically. "There's something out there."

"My point exactly, woman. Let's stay in here and call the police instead," Joyce insisted.

"And tell them what?" Emily put her hands on her hips with a frown, casting them a glance over her shoulder. "A flying saucer just landed in my back yard? Besides, we have Rio. He's strong."

Rio's grin looked more like a grimace, but he nodded, tightening his grip on the frying pan.

Joyce snorted, one dark brow shooting up.

Rio frowned. "Hey, I resent that snort," he called out from the other side of the kitchen, one hand on his hip as he pointed the frying pan at Joyce.

"Stop fighting, you two," Emily scolded. Had the situation not been so scary, she would have laughed.

Emily opened the door wider. She could hear Tabitha still barking up in her room. She'd locked the collie away because Joyce hated when she jumped up on her. Now she wished she'd thought of setting her free first. If there was anything out there, Tab would find it fast... but maybe that wasn't such a good idea. Her sweet Collie could get hurt.

Taking a deep breath, Emily stepped out the back door onto the wooden deck. She heard Rio and Joyce's feet scampering across the kitchen floor until their body heat pressed against her back. They walked like one unit until they reached the steps leading down into her yard.

Rio's hand wrapped around her bicep, making her pause. She patted it reassuringly, and kept moving, her eyes narrowing on the dark shape over the pond.

Just as they stepped off the wooden deck, the lights flickered again, and then turned off. Emily's heart slammed against her ribs as all three of them gasped. There was a loud whirring noise, and the blinding light stabbed shards of pain into her eyes.

Joyce cursed tightly and Rio gave a squeak of alarm. Emily fell under the weight of Rio's body when he tackled both her and Joyce to the ground shouting "duck!".

They covered their heads when a gust of hot wind stirred up the leaves around them. The whirring turned into a droning along with a high-pitched squeal. The scent of moist earth, water, and something else Emily couldn't quite place assaulted her nose.

She squinted from under the muscled arm trying to cover her head. A small, glowing orb floated over her pond for a second, then zipped straight up into the sky, disappearing amongst the stars.

Holy shit! Emily gaped, unable to believe what she'd just seen.

"Run-run, before they come back," Rio cried out.

She had no choice in the matter as he practically lifted both women and hightailed into the safety of the house.

Tabitha was still barking and howling. Joyce ran for the phone with Rio behind her.

They were both shouting into the receiver so she doubted that whoever had answered the call would understand them.

Emily felt uneasy, her head snapping around to stare toward the pond.

My Mistress.

She didn't understand why she felt the overwhelming urge to cry, her fingers gripped the edge of the counter to keep from running back out to the pond. Something in her heart stirred; desperation, anguish...?

Choking back a sob, she ran up the stairs. Her feet pounded on the beige runner covering the steps until she reached the second floor. She swept passed the various framed family photos lining the antique, whitewashed walls of the hallway, pushing her way into the linen closet at the end of the corridor. Emily flipped on the switch, the scent of fresh, clean linen making her nostrils flare. Wrapping her fingers around the cord that dropped from the ceiling, she lowered the ladder that lead to her sanctuary.

She scrambled up the wooden ladder, pulling the cord to the bare bulb that hung from the ceiling in the attic. There he was, right where she'd left him... unfinished. The easel was propped by the small round window at the far end of the attic, overlooking the yard. Several times she'd tried to paint his face, but she couldn't seem to get the eyes right. Emily tried to remember what they looked like from her dream, but the memory was elusive. Red Passion. His body laid bare for her pleasure, faceless.

She reached out to touch the painting, but Tabitha howled in a way she never had before, breaking Emily out of her trance. The collie wouldn't keep up the ruckus unless...

Her heart accelerated. She turned and climbed back down the ladder, dashed down the steps, and this time kept going until her fuzzy slippers sloshed in the edges of the pond.

The moon was just a tiny sliver in the sky, making the darkness absolute. She panted, unable to see a thing. In the direction of the house, she could hear Joyce calling out to her and a pair of heavy feet pounding across dried leaves coming in her direction. Rio was going to play at being a hero again—bless his gay heart.

The glow from Rio's flashlight hurt her eyes.

"Baby-girl, don't move. Stay right there," she heard him shout from across the yeard.

But she did, and found herself tripping over something... big. Emily fell, face first, into the icy waters of the pond. She felt the distinct sensation of cold, wet flesh against her legs and scrambled away. Immediately, her teeth began to chatter. Rio's light flashed across the muddy bank searching for her. It swept over the body of the naked man she'd just tripped over. Her eyes widened when she saw his hair.

"Oh my God! It can't be," she gasped.

"Em, stay away from it."

She paid Rio no mind, her hand reaching out to feel for a pulse. For a moment, she held her breath, not being able to feel anything, but then there it was... very faint and weak. He was alive, but barely.

"Call 911, he's dying," she shouted out.

Rio finally reached her, panting. "Joyce is already calling."

The man's flesh felt icy cold, and his pale skin had a bluish hue to it. "Rio, get a blanket."

Rio snorted. "I am not leaving you here alone with this..." his free hand waved over the prone body, "person." He flicked the light around the rest of the yard, his eyes narrowing. "Hell, there could be more around."

She began pushing aside the long tangles of hair. He was lying face down in the mud, half in, half out of the water. "Shine the light on him."

"How do you know it's a him?"

The light revealed a sinewy body covered in welts, bruises, and blood. Deep red hair spilled down a V-shaped back, tapering down to a lean waist and narrow hips. The man's buttocks curved enticingly to strong well-shaped thighs and calves. He was definitely male, beautifully so. The murky water of the pond hid his feet. He had to be so cold. Emily bit her lip, splaying her hands over his shoulders.

"Never mind." Rio crouched down. "Is he alive?" Even as he asked, he slipped his fingers into the curve between the man's neck and shoulder, feeling for his pulse.

"Just barely. It's too cold out here for him." She tried to move the tangles of impossibly red hair to see his face, but the shadows kept it obscured.

"A blanket isn't enough." Rio shined the light down the man's body again. "He doesn't look heavy at all. Maybe I can carry him inside."

Emily nibbled her lip, wondering who'd beaten him so savagely, and why. "He's just so bruised. He could have internal bleeding. Moving him around might do more harm than good."

"But by the time the paramedics get here he'll die from exposure."

Joyce was approaching, lighting the path with sweeping motions. She seemed to be speaking—Emily guessed she was using her cell phone.

"Oh God, Rio," Emily blurted, "I don't know what to do."

"He's probably like some musician. What do you think the aliens wanted him for?"

Emily's perplexed gaze snapped to Rio's face. "What?"

"Look at the color of his hair..." Rio nodded toward the stranger, and then one of his golden brows lifted, "unless he's an alien."

"Oh, Rio, stop," Emily scoffed.

Joyce finally reached them, carrying a blanket.

Emily hopped to her feet with a clap. "Joyce, you're an angel!"

"The paramedics will be here in a few minutes. Who the hell's that?" Joyce frowned, planting her fists on her ample hips.

"We don't know. Rio, grab the other side of this blanket."

"What are you going to do?" Rio looked skeptical. I" don't think he's generating enough body heat for the blanket to work at this point."

"We're going to put the blanket down, roll him onto it and carry him between all of us into the house," Emily explained.

"Are you crazy? That man could be an escaped convict," Joyce protested.

"Or an alien," Rio added.

"Oh, come-on. If we leave him here he'll die from exposure to the cold." Emily stomped her foot. "If you don't help me I'll drag him in myself. Move out of the way."

"All-right-all-right. Don't get your panties in a twist," Rio huffed, reaching for the blanket she was shaking.

They unfolded the blue blanket and placed it beside the unconscious man. Rio, along with Emily, rolled him onto it. Mud and leaves clung to his pale battered body.

Joyce shook her head, making a disapproving sound. "Uh... shouldn't he be in the middle so he won't fall off the edge, folks?"

"Look," Rio sighed, "I'll just grab him under his arms and pull him into the middle of the blanket."

"C-careful, Rio. Don't hurt him."

Emily's heart accelerated when Rio lifted the man under his arms and pulled him over to the center of the blanket. "Hurry, let's get him inside now," she said in a rush.

Emily didn't know if it was from the adrenaline coursing through them, but they lifted him as though he weighed nothing and made it to the house faster than she ever thought possible.

"By the fireplace. Careful. Joyce, get me some towels and a bowl of warm water. Rio, get Emma on the phone."

Emily used her hands to wipe away the muck and dirt from his face. His eyes were swollen shut, black and blue bruises almost making the face seem inhuman, that's when she noticed the gash. It ran from his upper left temple, near the outer corner of his eye to his jaw. Dried blood and mud caked the deep gash. "Good God. Who could have done this to you?"

"Em... your sister." Rio held out the phone to her.

Emily grasped the phone in relief. "Emma! Oh, thank god!" Her knees began to shake. Rio came up behind her and helped her sit on the big tan lounger by the fireplace.

"Emily? What's going on? What happened?" Her sister's voice sounded clipped and controlled, ever the doctor.

"I need for you to get here as fast as you can, sis."

"Are you hurt?"

"No. It's a... man. He looks like he's been beaten and his face has a nasty cut."

"Is he bleeding?"

"No. The blood looks like its clotted, but he's unconscious. His pulse is very weak and his skin is almost blue." It suddenly occurred to Emily that if he really was an alien, that could very well be his natural color.

"Get him warmed up," Emma instructed, "but no rubbing or moving him around. Keep monitoring his breathing and pulse. I'll be there in five."

Joyce set the towels and water on the floor.

Emily turned the phone off and left it on the ottoman. "Cover his head, neck and..." Her eyes drifted down to his groin.

Joyce followed suit and gasped. "Wow! Can you imagine that when it's..."

"Joyce, really. He's half dead."

"Ain't it a shame." She clicked her tongue as she proceeded to wrap the towels around his head neck and groin.

Emily folded a quilt over him and looked at Rio. "Lie against him and warm him."

"Hey, why can't I do that?" Joyce protested.

"Because I'm bigger and hotter than you, girlfriend." Rio's smile was priceless.