Zane: Alien Adoption Agency #4

by Tasha Black

  By the time he heard Zane’s footsteps behind him and turned, it was too late.

  Zane collared him easily and wrapped the villain’s hands behind his back in a leather thong, faster than the Maltaffian could follow what was happening.

  “Seriously?” Billaxx complained.

  “You may be just a petty criminal yourself, but you’re aiding and abetting a known felon,” Zane said. “Now, either walk with me, or I’ll throw you over my shoulder like the sack of potatoes you have the sense of, whichever you prefer.”

  Billaxx scoffed, but he walked along agreeably enough.

  Zane chose to stay silent and let the guy worry about what was going to happen next.

  By the time they reached the foot of the bluff again, the Maltaffian was decidedly subdued. Zane hoped it might help them get the info they needed.

  Unfortunately, Slade was already standing there, practically tapping his foot.

  Dirty Al was tied up next to the fire.

  It figured that the scrawny Terran had been easier to catch.

  “Kind of you to join us,” Slade teased.

  Zane narrowed his eyes, but didn’t reply. Slade had just broken the first rule of encounters with the captured. Allies had to have each other’s backs. There could be no chink in the armor - no matter how small.

  “Are you all ready to talk?” Slade asked.

  But their prisoners didn’t reply.

  Slade reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out an ancient-looking comms tablet. He swiped at it a few times and a familiar image appeared on the screen.

  “I see there’s a warrant out for the arrest of a Maltaffian who goes by the moniker of Billaxx,” Slade went on. “I could bring you in for this vandalism charge. Or for the drunk and disorderly from last Moon Fest.”

  Slade began to pace, looking up at the stars and then subconsciously rubbing his marshal’s badge as he spoke.

  “But it could turn out that you gave us the slip tonight,” he said. “If you were willing to tell us where Caldwell is. You boys might not be aware, but he’s a bad man. He killed the father of that little lady over there.”

  Slade pointed to Sarah, who was watching everything, wide-eyed, from the shadows at the foot of the bluff.

  Zane swallowed down a bellow of rage.

  Why would Slade draw their attention to his mate? There was no reason for them to even realize she was there.

  Slade was a thoughtless diva, more concerned with his pride filled monologue than with actually solving their problem.

  “We, uh, didn’t realize he was in that kind of trouble,” Billaxx said.

  “Changes your mind about where your loyalties, lie, eh?” Slade asked knowingly, pacing over to Billaxx. “So, tell us, big guy, where is he?”

  Billaxx paused.

  Slade kicked him gently with the tip of his fancy leather boot. “Talk or don’t talk. We don’t have all night.”

  “The old riverbed,” Billaxx said quickly. “If you follow it north, it leads to a cave. He’s camping out in there.”

  “A cave?” Slade echoed.

  “Yeah,” Billaxx said. “You might want to approach real slow. He’s pretty skittish.”

  “Appreciate your help, son,” Slade said, igniting a small energy-blade he pulled from his pocket, and releasing the Maltaffian from his bonds. “Don’t get yourself into any more trouble. Steer clear of Jericho Caldwell. Do you hear me?”

  “Yeah, we gotcha,” Billaxx said, stretching out his arms.

  Slade released Dirty Al as well, and watched them gather their things and pack them onto the scrawny beggars-mule. Before they moved on, Dirty Al pulled a few handfuls of the purple flowers from the side of the path and dumped them on the fire, smothering it in a big puff of fragrant smoke. Once it was out, the two men went on their way.

  “Why are you standing there?” Sarah asked, stalking up once the men had disappeared from view. “Let’s get the horses and head down that riverbed.”

  “We’re not going down that riverbed,” Slade said, still watching after the two criminals.

  “What are you talking about?” Sarah demanded. “We had a deal. You were going to help us find him.”

  “And I intend to, ma’am,” Slade said, turning to her with an infuriating flourish. “But that’s not where he is.”

  “What are you talking about?” Sarah said. “We just heard them. You threatened them, and they told you.”

  “Did you notice the flatware?” Slade asked her, his eyes twinkling.

  “Sure,” she said,

  Zane thought back to the chipped plates and cups on the grass when he’d first approached the fire.

  “How many did you see?” Slade asked.

  “Three,” Sarah said softly.

  “Three,” Slade said, nodding and practically patting himself on the back. “Which means they were expecting company. Now the first thing those two knuckleheads will do is run and warn Caldwell. All we need to do is follow. They’re going to lead us right to him.”

  Damnit. The cocky bastard was right.

  Zane glowered at him, as Sarah’s eyes lit up in admiration.

  17

  Sarah

  Sarah smiled at Slade. She was half-tempted to applaud.

  Though there had been moments throughout the day when she had wondered if hiring him would pay off, he had just proven himself worth his weight in electrum rods.

  “Very nice,” she said. “But he can’t be far off if he was planning to join them for dinner. We’d better not let them out of our sight.”

  “That smoke signal they sent up on the way out of here will have warned him off,” Slade explained. “He’ll know not to come here. Most likely, they have a regular meeting place.”

  “So, what do we do?” Sarah asked.

  “If they see us, they’ll lead us on a wild goose chase,” Slade said. “We’ll follow, but slowly.”

  “What if we lose them?” she asked.

  “Look at those jokers,” he said with a smile. “They’re going to leave a trail a mile wide. I could follow it in my sleep.”

  Sarah glanced over at Zane, uncertain.

  “Look, ma’am, you hired the best tracker on Lachesis for a reason,” Slade said. “Let me track.”

  Zane rolled his eyes.

  Sarah giggled before she could stop herself, but managed to turn it into what she hoped was a convincing cough.

  “Thank you, Slade,” she said, turning back to him. “I’ll follow your counsel.”

  “Good,” he said, tipping his hat to her. “Let’s go back to our mounts. We’ll follow along enough to get a sense of which way they’re headed. Then we’ll need to find a place to get some sleep, some place out of sight.”

  Sarah nearly screamed at the idea that they would have to stop overnight. They were so close…

  “Sounds good,” Zane said, his deep voice awakening something in Sarah’s heart. “They’ll have to rest, too.”

  They headed back up the bluff, picking their way over rocks and roots. Coming down had been easier. But she’d also had adrenaline on her side. By the time they reached the peak, she was glad they were planning to get some rest.

  Her stag-mare whickered at the sight of her, and Sarah stroked the mare’s silky cheek, wishing she had a treat to give her.

  “When we get settled, we can feed them too,” Slade said softly.

  Sarah nodded and loosened the mare’s reins from the tree where she had secured them.

  “Are you okay to keep carrying Bowen?” Zane asked as she prepared to mount.

  “I’m fine,” she told him. “Does he look happy?”

  “He’s awake,” Zane said. “And he seems content. Hopefully, he won’t get hungry again until we get wherever we’re going.”

  “Hopefully,” Sarah said, suddenly wondering what she was supposed to do if he started fussing while he was on her back.

  “He likes going for a ride,” Zane reassured her. “He’ll be just fine. Want a hand up?”
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  She let him help her onto the mare, though she didn’t really need help.

  His big hands felt good on her body and she couldn’t help but remember what happened between them last night.

  I am your mate.

  It felt surreal to think that less than a day had passed since they had shared her bed. And now they were out on the plains, chasing down Jericho Caldwell, with a marshal in tow.

  “Ready?” Slade called to them, one eyebrow arched.

  “Yes,” she said quickly as Zane let her go and headed to his own mount.

  “Look up there,” Slade told her, bringing his stallion up to her mare and pointing at a ridge across the plain. “There should be caves in that rocky area.”

  “Of course,” she said crisply, though the idea of sleeping in a cave was horrifying. She was a city girl after all.

  Justice delayed is justice denied.

  The quote got her head in the game again, and she squeezed the mare’s belly gently with her ankles to urge her to follow Slade’s stallion.

  The mare ambled down the incline and Sarah was struck all over again at the impact of the lowered gravity. Her leg should have been jostled and banged up mercilessly, leaving her moaning in pain.

  Instead, it felt like she was a rag doll, or the air was really water. She smiled at the thought that she could live a normal life on this moon when the hunt for Caldwell was over.

  As normal a life as she could if she had killed a man.

  She tried not to think about what might happen to her if the police force of Lachesis decided to hold her accountable for what she was about to do.

  On the one hand, hiring a marshal to help her meant she was going to find Caldwell.

  On the other, it meant she would have a police witness when she killed him.

  Maybe she should have told Slade that part of his pay was to keep his mouth shut when it was all over. But then he might not have agreed to help at all.

  The most important thing she could do right now was to keep her eye on the prize. She had come all this way to ensure that Caldwell could never kill again, never ruin another family’s life. She couldn’t let herself get caught up in what happened to her. She would go to jail a thousand times to put her own family back together again. Doing it once to save someone else’s seemed a small price to pay.

  They reached the meadow, and the stag-horses began to let loose.

  She intentionally released her mind from everything but the feel of the wind lifting her hair as the horses streaked across the moonlit meadow toward the ridge.

  18

  Sarah

  Sarah looked around the stone face of the ridge.

  They had found a place to tie up their mounts out of sight almost immediately. A natural spring let out a continuous trickle of sweet water against the rock face that the horses were lapping at eagerly while she and Zane emptied their grain onto the ground at their feet. It wasn’t fancy but the stag-horses seemed delighted.

  Slade had gone poking around the rocks to see if he could find a big enough cave for them to sleep in.

  Sarah half hoped he wouldn’t find anything. A little claustrophobia coupled with a dislike for creepy crawly things made a cave sound like a bad place to sleep. And the more she thought about it, the more she didn’t like the whole idea.

  But there was no point worrying about it. Slade had done this before. She was sure he wouldn’t lead them astray.

  “A credit for your thoughts,” Zane said softly.

  “I’m just fretting about sleeping in a cave,” she laughed.

  “So, chasing down a hardened criminal is fine with you, but you’re afraid of spiders?” Zane teased.

  “Not really,” she told him. “I just got spoiled by having a house of my own.”

  He turned to her, his eyes twinkling. “We’ll be home again soon enough.”

  Home again…

  But Sarah might never go home again, not after what she was about to do.

  “Hey, I found the perfect cave,” Slade said as he came around the corner, holding a chem-lantern. “Are the mounts settled in?”

  “Sure are,” Sarah said quickly. “Let’s see this cave.”

  They followed him around to a dark opening in the rock face.

  Sarah hung back slightly, unable to make herself move forward.

  “Here,” Slade said, holding up the lantern and moving inside.

  The circle of light filled the space. The rock floor of the cave was surprisingly smooth, but the walls were pocked with fist-sized, dark holes.

  “Don’t worry,” Slade said. “Those are just prairie mouse holes.”

  Sarah shuddered at the thought of wild mice big enough to need those holes, but Zane put his hand at the small of her back.

  “They’re harmless,” he whispered into her hair.

  A shiver went down her back and she found she didn’t care so much about prairie mice anymore.

  Slade set the lantern at the center of the cave and they began to lay out their things. Once the floor was covered in bed rolls, Zane lifted Bowen off of Sarah’s back. The little one prattled happily, smacking Zane’s cheeks with his little hands, the sounds of his happiness echoing off the cave walls.

  Zane sat him on a bed roll, where he looked around with wide eyes.

  Sarah began buttering a few of the slabs of bread she had packed with them.

  “We’ll take turns keeping watch,” Slade said, pouring out a mug of cold water from his thermoflask. “But I think we’ll have a quiet night.”

  Bowen squeaked, and Sarah looked over to see that bright blue cricket sitting on the bed roll beside him.

  “Harmless,” Slade assured her. “Azure cave crickets are very common on Lachesis. They’re a good source of protein too, if you ever get desperate out here. With a little seasoning, they’re not half bad.”

  Sarah wrinkled her nose and kept buttering bread.

  Bowen cooed at the cricket and then clapped his little hands together as a second and third came to join the first.

  “Cheerful little fella,” Slade said appreciatively. “I had a bunch of little brothers. Kids are fun to have around.”

  Sarah smiled fondly at Bowen. He was fun to have around.

  Another cave cricket hopped onto the blanket.

  Faster than she could track it, something flew out of a hole in the wall and snapped up one of the bugs.

  Bowen squealed with delight as he watched the thing stop to chew.

  Sarah’s heart went cold as ice.

  It was a snake-like creature, massive, with yellow-slitted eyes and striped markings. About a meter of it was protruding from the wall, but that huge, ribbony body could go on forever inside the rock for all she knew.

  Zane began to move toward Bowen.

  “Freeze,” Slade snapped, stopping Zane in his tracks. “They’re attracted to movement.”

  “Wh-what is that?” Sarah murmured, her eyes fixed on her son, who was chattering away happily at the horrifying thing.

  “That’s a cave eel,” Slade said. “They have a venomous bite, and even the slime on their skin is toxic. You don’t want to touch it.”

  Sarah felt her knees go weak and the blood rush away from her head, but she forced herself to remain alert, eyes on Bowen.

  “Everything will be fine, as long as we’re nice and slow, and no one makes any sudden movements,” Slade murmured as he stretched out slowly for the strap of his gun, which was leaned against the cave wall just out of his reach.

  Sarah watched as his fingers grazed the leather strap.

  But instead of dropping into his hand, the gun fell to the cave floor with a clatter.

  After that, everything seemed to happen in slow motion.

  The eel drew back to strike, its yellow eyes flashing with fury.

  Quicker than she thought possible, Zane threw himself to the ground in front of Bowen, wrapping the baby in his arms and rolling to the side.

  The eel struck, hitting Zane in the leg.

>   Zane’s roar of pain was echoed by the sound of a gunshot.

  Sarah turned to see Slade, holding his gun, smoke issuing from the long barrel.

  There was a thud as the eel hit the cave floor before it could strike again.

  19

  Sarah

  “Zane,” Sarah screamed, crawling over to him.

  “He’ll be fine,” Slade said. “He’s a dragon, remember? He’s venomous himself.”

  She hadn’t considered that, and didn’t have any idea if it was true. But Slade sounded pretty certain. Of course, he’d also been pretty certain they’d find nothing but harmless prairie mice in those holes.

  She moved to Zane, who was still curled protectively around Bowen. She rolled him onto his back and pulled the baby out of his arms.

  “Mah,” Bowen cried imperiously, smacking her on top of her head.

  “Hi, baby,” she murmured, kissing an impossibly soft golden cheek as she gazed down at his protector.

  Zane was alive, but knocked out. He looked peaceful.

  She reached out slowly and touched his jaw as Slade crawled up behind her.

  “Hey,” Zane said, his blue eyes blinking open suddenly and then narrowing at Slade. “Don’t you look at my woman.”

  His words were slurred, as if he’d been drinking.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Sarah asked.

  “It’s the venom,” Slade said in an embarrassed tone. “It’s making him act a little silly. It will wear off.”

  “I said, don’t look at my woman,” Zane said. “You cocky country bumpkin.”

  “I’m not your woman,” Sarah told him firmly, before Slade could take offense. “Now you rest until you’ve sobered up.”

  “You,” Zane said, resting his eyes on Sarah. “Mate bond. Best thing ever happen to me,” he declared. “If I can stop ya’ from wreckin’ it.”

  She blinked at him, willing him not to tell Slade her plans. If the marshal knew she was only looking for Caldwell so she could kill him, he might just leave them on their own.

  It must have worked. Instead of revealing her vengeance scheme, he broke into song.