by Liza Probz
His eyes followed Jamie as she moved next to the door. Her stop was next. He abandoned his attempts to make it to her side and moved closer to the door nearest him. He slowed his breathing as the train slowed, pulling into the station.
Drake had to be calm, look normal, avoid notice as he stalked his target to her lodgings. The doors at last opened with their customary whoosh, and he made sure Jamie had disembarked before he exited the car.
Avoid notice. Blend in. Look normal. Non-threatening.
The human female made her way across the platform, heading for the stairs that brought her to street level. Drake lagged behind, not wanting to draw her attention.
The two suits from before tumbled out of the train just before it took off from the station. Drake’s body shot through with adrenaline. The one who had touched Jamie was talking rapidly to his companion who was shaking his head. Another moment of furious conversation and his companion seemed to relent, then followed the man as he headed to the stairs.
Drake could just see the top of Jamie’s fire-kissed head as she made her way up the stairs. He quickened his pace until he was a few steps behind the businessmen, close enough to hear their conversation.
“Trust me; she’s game. She just needs a little persuasion. You know how chicks always play hard to get.”
The man’s friend turned his head, allowing Drake to catch sight of the skeptical look on his face. “One drink, Chuck. Then I have to head back to the train. Marsha will have my guts for garters if I’m late for dinner again.”
“Marsha, Marsha, Marsha,” Chuck muttered. “I don’t know how you can stand that woman, Jim. When are you going to divorce her and find a pretty young piece like that one?”
When Chuck nodded his head in Jamie’s direction, Drake had to restrain himself from popping the bastard’s eyes out with his thumbs.
By the next block, they'd caught up with their quarry. Drake took a position behind the corner of a nearby brownstone, his muscles tight, his body screaming for action that he was forced to restrain.
"Miss," Chuck said, pulling a folded newspaper from his shoulder bag and breaking into a jog. "You forgot this on the train."
Jamie turned, confusion painting her pretty face. "Pardon?"
Chuck came to a stop in front of her and waved the newspaper under her nose. "This. You left it on the seat. I thought it might be important, so we tracked you down."
Jamie's eyes widened. "That's not mine."
The businessman laughed. "Well isn't this a pickle!" He dropped the newspaper to the ground and held out his hand. "I didn't have a chance to introduce myself earlier. I'm Charles." He extended a hand, then slapped his partner on the back. "And this is Jim."
Jim nodded, his smile small and his face saying he didn't exactly want to be part of this transparent pretense at a genuine meeting.
"Nice to meet you," Jamie said after a beat, finally taking Chuck's hand.
It was a mistake. Once he had her hand in his, the businessman was loath to let it go. "What's your name?" he asked, his toothy smile making Drake's insides clench with an emotion he was hesitant to put a name to.
"Jamie." Her eyes darted back and forth between the men, and she took a step backward, but Chuck held her hand prisoner.
"Now that we're all friends let's have a drink. I know a place a few blocks from here that makes a mean dirty martini."
"No thanks," Jamie said. "I have to get home and make dinner for my husband and kids."
Drake knew it was a lie but inwardly applauded her attempt to defuse the situation.
"Husband and kids, huh?" Chuck said, pulling her hand up closer to his face. "Funny, I don't see a ring on your finger."
Jamie gave a tug on her hand, but Chuck kept hold of her wrist. "I don't like to wear my ring when I ride the train. It could be stolen."
Chuck laughed. "Cute. Look, honey, we both know you're not married, a hot young thing like you. Why don't you drop the act and join us for a drink?"
"Let go of me." Jamie tugged again, this time hard enough to nearly stumble backward.
The businessman laughed, and the sound set off something in Drake's brain. Something terrible.
Something that wanted vengeance drenched in blood.
Before he realized it, he was striding towards the fracas, his fists balled in rage.
Jim hadn't even had a chance to realize someone was behind him before Drake had him in a headlock and began dragging him backward.
Chapter 3
Jamie was frightened. The man from the train and his friend had followed her, and now he held her wrist so tight she knew there would be a bruise there soon.
The man who had introduced himself as Charles began pulling her down the block. She tried to resist, but with her small frame and high-heeled strappy sandals, she wasn't having much luck.
"I don't want to have a drink with you," she said, swinging her handbag at him and pulling back hard, squatting low to try and pull him off balance.
Her captor batted her bag away, his smile becoming wolfish. "Jim, give me a hand here, will you?" His head swung around. "Jim? Where the heck did you go?"
Jamie's head swiveled, looking for his companion. The business jerk took the opportunity to pull her off-balance, tugging her into him so that his arms went around her waist.
"Let me go!" she yelled, fear lacing through her like a thousand needles of ice.
"You heard her," a voice said from behind them. For a moment she thought it was his friend who was trying to make Charles come to his senses, but a glance into the jerk's confused face proved otherwise.
"Mind your own business, pal," Charles said, starting to walk them down the block again.
"This is my business, pal."
Jamie craned her neck around to try and catch sight of the speaker. Over the jerk's shoulder, she could make out an average-looking man with brown hair wearing a jacket over a t-shirt and jeans. She silently sent her thanks to the concerned citizen.
"It's just a little lover's quarrel," Charles said, giving the bystander an easy smile. "She'll forgive me in a minute, won't you honey?"
"No! The only quarrel here is that I won't be your lover. Now let me go, dammit!"
"Listen to the lady, unless you want to get hurt."
The concerned citizen certainly was brave. The business jerk had at least four inches and forty pounds on him. Jamie cheered him on in her mind as she went back to trying to break Charles's grip on her.
"Beat it, man," Charles said, his voice becoming rough. "The only one who will get hurt is you if you don't fuck off, buddy."
"Don't say I didn't warn you." The bystander's hand grabbed the back of the jerk's neck and pulled. Suddenly Charles's grip was gone.
And so was Charles.
Jamie was still in the process of resisting, so the absence of his hold caused her to tumble to the pavement. When she looked up, she realized that the businessman was now twenty yards away, lying on the ground.
How did that happen?
"Are you hurt?" The concerned citizen was bending over her; his face etched with anger.
"I'm okay," she said, and suddenly she was upright. The bystander had lifted her to her feet in such a fluid motion that it took her a moment to realize that she was standing again. "Uh, thank you."
The man nodded, then looked down the sidewalk at Charles who was just starting to regain his footing. "You son of a bitch," the enraged businessman said, walking a few paces to pick up his shoulder bag. "I don't know how you got the drop on me, but it won't happen again."
Jamie looked into the bystander's face. His eyebrow cocked at Charles's words, his expression making a definitive statement. Bring it on.
Charles picked up his pace, jogging back to his rival until he was close enough to lunge at the man.
The bystander easily sidestepped his clumsy attack, moving so quickly that he circled behind the businessman, planting a foot in his behind and causing Charles to hit the ground hard enough to slide along it for seve
ral feet.
"Fuck!" The downed man groaned, turning over to reveal an angry abrasion on his face from where it had met the pavement.
"Do yourself a favor," her rescuer said. "Stay down."
"I'll sue you for this," Charles said, wiping the blood off his cheek. "After I kick your ass."
The bystander shrugged off the threat and waited for the businessman to stand. Charles was slower this time, his body obviously a bundle of aches.
"Last chance," he said, his voice low as Charles’ fists rose.
"You're right," Charles said. "This is your last chance to fuck off."
The bystander shook his head. His face was resigned.
Charles threw a hard right hook. His opponent caught his fist with what appeared to be almost no effort.
The businessman groaned, gritting his teeth, then swung his left fist.
This one was caught too, with a quickness that seemed like a blur to Jamie. Then both fists were flung downward, and in the opening, the bystander struck.
Jamie heard a loud crunch. Oh shit, that sound was a bone breaking.
Charles hit the ground, and this time he didn't move. He lay there, still, like a doll some child had discarded in the dirt.
"Oh my God," Jamie said, leaning over the unconscious man. "I think you broke his jaw."
The bystander's face was stone. "He deserved it."
"He might be dead," she said, her breath stuck in her chest. She poked a foot into him, rolling him over enough to crouch down beside him.
Jamie dug into her bag and pulled out a small compact. She held the mirror under his nose, hoping for a sign that he was breathing. The mirror clouded slightly, confirming that Charles was still among the living for now.
"We have to call an ambulance. He could be critically injured." She stood up, giving her companion a once-over.
He was only a few inches taller than her; his medium build not belying any of the muscles that could have been used to inflict this kind of damage. "What are you, some kind of kung fu master or ultimate fighter?"
"Something like that," her companion said with a mirthless grin.
"I'm calling 9-1-1," Jamie said, digging around in her bag for her phone. "And the other one, where is he? He should be helping his friend."
"He's indisposed at the moment." The man cocked his head in the direction of the alley between two buildings.
Jamie took a few steps in that direction. "I don't see him."
The bystander frowned and made his way over to the alley. Jamie followed, compelled by curiosity. Her companion pulled up the lid of the small dumpster situated there, and Jamie leaned over, peering inside.
The other businessman was curled up inside. He appeared to be sleeping, but Jamie knew better.
"Jesus," she whispered. "You really did a number on them."
The bystander just stared at her and dropped the lid on the dumpster. His gaze unnerved her. There was something about him, something different. He definitely wasn't the ordinary guy she'd mistaken him for initially.
Jamie finally had to drop her eyes from the intensity she found in his stare. "Well...er...I'm going to make that call." She pulled her phone from her bag and tapped the button to light the screen.
"Since you are unharmed, I'll go," he said, starting to head down the street back in the direction of the train platform.
"Wait!" Jamie yelled. "You'll have to make a statement!"
The man turned slightly but didn't stop walking. "You make it."
"But how am I supposed to explain what happened? You have to wait for the police!"
His eyebrow rose again before he turned and continued walking away.
"Wait. You--" Her words were cut off when the 9-1-1 operator answered her call. Jamie began giving the woman a rundown of what had happened, her eyes watching as the man turned the corner and disappeared.
Oh great, what am I supposed to say? Some superhero came out to rescue me and then flew away?
Jamie sighed, taking a seat on the stoop of a nearby brownstone. Adrenalin was making her muscles shake.
She finished her report and disconnected the call, then put her hands on her thighs and her head between her knees. It suddenly felt like the weight of the universe was on her back.
My sister is lost in outer space, my fiancé is an astronaut, and even he can't find her, and now I have to explain to the police that a mystery man beat up two guys who were trying to force me to have a drink with them.
Jamie stared up into the darkening sky. She half expected an asteroid to blast through the atmosphere and crush her where she sat.
Well, I've always wished my life were more exciting. Guess I should be careful what I wish for.
Chapter 4
Drake stood in the bushes outside Jamie's one bedroom apartment, his eyes trained on her bathroom window. Not for the first time, he cursed the shades that obscured his view of the Earth woman.
His nerves were still frayed from their earlier encounter. His rage had overwhelmed him when he'd seen that asshole put his hands on Jamie. He'd sworn to himself that he would never reveal himself to her, despite the desire he might have to drag her into his arms and explore every inch of her delectable little body.
Still, he couldn't let those goons touch her. They deserved what they got. And more. If my mission weren't so critical, I would have killed them both and disposed of their bodies.
Then I would have carried the luscious Jamie Cohen back to my room and worked her body over for the next century or so.
Drake tried to push those thoughts from his mind while he stared at the steamy bathroom window. It was difficult though since he knew that right behind those shades and that pane of glass was a beautiful woman, submerged in warm bubbly water.
Would her skin flush pink with the heat of the water? Would her nipples grow hard as she soaped those perfect breasts?
Drake almost groaned aloud, his cock starting to thicken at thoughts of the Earth woman. Once she'd forgotten to close the blinds completely, and he'd seen her in her bath, soaking, her red curls piled atop her heads, her eyes closed in the candlelight.
He still didn't understand his attraction to the female. He'd never felt anything for any of the other human women he'd interacted with. He'd had a normal working relationship with them, nothing more.
But Jamie Cohen was something else entirely. Her pale skin resembled the rare flowers that blossomed on the tops of the reefs on his home world. They bloomed only once a year, under the light of thirteen full moons. Drake bet her skin was as soft as their petals.
But you'll never know because you won't be touching her again.
Drake scowled. He couldn't risk revealing himself to her. It had jeopardized his mission just stepping in earlier tonight. She was his only hope at gaining access to the inner circle at NASA. That had to be where the Hareema had focused their efforts.
Jamie Cohen could come and go at headquarters with impunity as Dr. Sylvia Cohen's irate sister. And she would be his key to infiltrating the enemy. If only he could figure out how...
From inside the house, he heard the faint ring of her phone. Probably her wretched fiancé. Just the thought of the handsome astronaut had Drake’s fists clenching.
The bathroom light clicked off, and in a few moments, the bedroom light clicked on. Jamie was getting dressed for another night on the town, on the arm of NASA’s most eligible bachelor.
It was impossible to trust any member of NASA’s hierarchy, but he distrusted Lance Cargraves more than any other. It wasn’t just his ability to touch the woman Drake wanted more than he wanted his next breath. It was his entire persona.
Dashing, handsome, and massively intelligent, Cargraves was a legend at NASA and frequently featured in the glossy holo-magazines Jamie flipped through when she got tired of swiping through her phone. Once humans had discovered faster than light space travel, NASA had rebounded from a dwindling federal agency to a symbol of hope for a better future.
And Lance Cargraves had be
come NASA’s perfect poster boy for a brave new space program.
Someone that well positioned with NASA was an excellent target for the Hareema. Impersonation of Cargraves would give a Hareema operative the ability to come and go at the highest levels of NASA, as well as sway within the public arena.
It also got the Hareema close to Drake’s obsession. The thought of an enemy infiltrator’s hands on Jamie’s skin drove Drake mad. And yet, he could do nothing but watch. He didn’t have enough information to make his move yet, no matter how much he wanted to cave in that handsome face.
The risk was too great. If Cargraves was a lynch pin of the Hareema invasion of Earth, Drake couldn’t tip his hand so soon.
So here he stood, lurking outside Jamie’s window like a creep. Enough, he thought, shaking his head in disgust. It was clear that he would learn nothing new from standing around outside her apartment tonight. Being careful to not make any noise, Drake pushed his way out of the bushes and onto the street, making certain that no one would see him and make a note of his stalking.
He made his way back towards the Metro line, but barely noticed when he walked past it, continuing down the bustling streets as the sun set over the nation’s capital. As he walked, he shoved thoughts of Jamie and her fiancé out of his mind, focusing instead on the facts as he saw them.
The Hareema had to have a presence on Earth. Their captured operative had admitted as much, even if Drake didn’t trust everything the creature had said. He’d raged against the Zantharians, laughed and threatened, and eventually, with test after test sapping his strength, he’d retreated to the corner of his cell in silence.
Until the scientists had dissected him.
Without the Hareema’s death, Drake couldn't be here now, in a disguise created from the dead operative’s remains.
Drake wasn’t bothered by wearing the enemy’s carcass. It allowed him to sneak around this planet without exposing his over-large frame and color-changing skin. And he’d been fighting the Hareema so long, his sympathy for the race was now non-existence.