Turning, he left her standing in the alley and headed back to his apartment to see if he could figure out some way to convince himself that he could prevent detection.
There was going to be hell to pay if he’d fucked up so badly the head honchos thought they needed to relocate everybody—hundreds if not thousands.
Which wouldn’t just be a headache, it would be dangerous for the people being relocated.
And expensive.
It didn’t bear thinking on and he shoved it to the back of his mind when he reached his apartment and settled to trying to decide the best course of action.
Unfortunately, a message came in from command before he’d managed to even get so far as to banish Marilyn from his mind.
He had a whole family coming in. “Gods damn it to hell! Fuck!”
He checked his chrono and saw he did not have time to make other arrangements. He had like fifteen parsects to make the decision to bring them or inform his boss that he had blown his cover and it was not safe to send them.
And that was not sufficient time to debate and also act if necessary.
He decided to make it work. It would not be the first time.
He would just have to keep the family in his place until it was safe to move them to the halfway house he had arranged for.
He felt a split second of doubt just before he sent the message that he was ready and waiting to receive.
Marilyn had only accepted his invitation because she was looking for an opportunity to snoop—not because she was attracted to him. He may have thrown everything away for a woman that cared less than nothing for him.
And she did not even know he was alien.
Somehow, that seemed worse.
He shook the thought, reminding himself that she had felt as she should have when they had mated. She had taken pleasure in it, given of herself.
He was absolutely certain of that and he had no intention of second guessing his instincts at this juncture of his life.
Of course, it might not matter. If this mission went sideways, he could end up dead or in jail for the rest of his prime mating years.
Brushing it off, he contacted headquarters. “Guardian Jarowd el-Karaket. Ready for the package.”
* * * *
Marilyn felt like she’d been cocooned when Jarrod walked away from her, as if she’d magically been encased in a cotton envelope that sealed her off from the world and even herself. She watched him until he disappeared.
Then, like the slow return of sensation after a shocking accident, she began to feel little pinpricks of pain that threatened to become a monsoon.
With an effort, she made herself move, heading toward ‘home’, her cave, her safe harbor.
She was going to be ok once she got inside her place, she assured herself, refusing to examine any of the thoughts beating at the back of her mind.
She was still gripped by shock when she got inside her fortress, but she could feels the cracks widening, feel the pain pouring through faster and faster.
She sat down on her favorite chair and stared at the blank TV screen for an endless time and finally got up and headed into the bathroom to take a hot shower. The hot water eroded the dam. The hard knot in her chest gave way to the deluge and she cried.
She’d lost him.
He hadn’t said that, but she’d seen it in his eyes.
She’d caused him so much trouble and he hadn’t done a thing but attract her notice.
She was a horrible person.
She was a kook, imagining all sorts of things going on when absolutely nothing was.
When had that happened?
It didn’t matter, she decided. What was done was done and it couldn’t be undone.
She really, really liked Jarrod and she’d ruined any possibility of it ever becoming more than friends with benefits.
She couldn’t even summon any reviving anger—because it was all her fault. All of it.
She cried until she was exhausted and there wasn’t any more hot water and then dragged herself out and collapsed on her bed half dried, but too hot from the water to cover up.
The chill that replaced the heat roused her after a while.
She felt like warmed over shit.
She’d cried until she could barely open her eyes and even when she did her vision was too blurry to read her clock, but she thought it must be around supper time.
Not that she was hungry.
She dragged some clothing out of her chest of drawers and put it on—comfy worn and loose clothing.
Sloppy.
Unattractive.
It matched her mood.
And then she wandered around her kitchen for a little while and finally just took a handful of grapes and went into the living room and turned on the TV and stared at it until she began to weave in and out of sleep, dozing and having horrible dreams that woke her.
She owed him an apology, she decided when she woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep.
It was lame and it didn’t undo anything, fix any harm she might have caused, but it was the least she could do—admit that she was wrong and tell him how sorry she was.
He probably wouldn’t even let her in the door.
She had to do it, though, she decided, while she had the nerve and then she wouldn’t bother him anymore.
She lost her nerve before she got to his door.
She had no idea what time it was anyway, she realized in dismay. He was probably in bed asleep.
It felt really late.
She stood indecisively for several moments and finally straightened her spine and continued, figuring she could at least check if she heard sounds indicating he was still up. She’d already raised her fist to knock when she saw the weirdest blue light flickering around the edges of his door.
She blinked several times, trying to decide if she’d dislocated her eyeballs or something while she was indulging her self-pity, but the light was still there and it brightened while she was looking.
She didn’t hesitate, despite the bitch slap she’d already gotten for snooping. She moved closer and stuck her eyeball to his peephole and looked in.
His entire apartment was glowing, but the main source was way to the back, coming from his bedroom.
“What the hell?” she muttered.
Was it some invention?
She really hadn’t believed he was an inventor.
And what the hell would this be about?
Straining, she managed to get an angle that allowed her to see just a tiny segment of Jarrod’s bedroom.
Just as something out of this world stepped from the closet.
She sucked in a sharp breath and clapped a hand to her mouth.
When she did, Jarrod came into view. Frowning, he glanced around the living room and then, thankfully, turned and headed back into his bedroom.
The thing, moved into the living room, looking around as if curious.
It was … well, roughly human-like—humanoid, she supposed, struggling to keep from breathing for fear it might hear her.
Just as she was trying to decide if it was possible to move away from the door quietly enough to keep from being heard, she saw the blue light flare and another creature, much like the first emerged.
“My god,” she breathed. “It’s an invasion.”
She didn’t see any weapons and after she studied the second alien for several moments, she realized it was a female.
She thought it was anyway.
Which meant nothing! Like aliens would be as gender bigoted as humans!
But what could she do about it?
If she tried to tell Dillard, he’d just have her hauled off to a loony farm.
Call the army?
Who the hell did a person call if they saw something like this?
The UFO people?
God! They were coming in now! She couldn’t think of anything in the world that could be done inside of days, weeks, or months if she tried to call someone in.
She d
amned sure wasn’t up to taking on two aliens—lord knew how many—by herself!
A knot formed in her throat.
Jarrod was part of it.
God! She’d slept with one! Well, to call a spade a spade—screwed. She was a traitor and besides that it had been inside of her!
She slowly and carefully stepped away from the door when she saw the blue light flare up again, indicating another arrival.
When she whirled to run, she ran smack into Jarrod.
Actually, she didn’t realize just at first that it was Jarrod.
Because she’d just seen him, or his look alike, inside the apartment. Jesus! Were there two of them?
“What the hell are you doing?” he growled.
Marilyn shrieked—actually it came out more as a squeak—and tried to make a hole where he was standing. Fighting free of him when she realized she wasn’t making any progress, she slid from his grip, dropped to her hands and knees, and tried to crawl between his mile long legs.
He locked them around her and reached down and plucked her from the floor as if she was practically weightless when she knew she was far from it.
Holding her ass up.
If only she’d been turned the other way she could have bitten his dick.
She bet he’d let her go then!
Before she could do more than suck in a deep breath to scream the house down, something jolted her and her voice froze in her throat.
In fact, everything on her froze.
And then he simply carried her inside his apartment and kicked the door closed behind him.
Chapter Ten
Jarrod settled her on a barstool with a back and arms, straightened her up and then bound her to the chair.
She watched him throughout the process, unable to move anything but her eyeballs, struggling with the fear clawing at her vitals.
He grasped her cheeks and tipped her head back to study her face. “You should begin feeling sensation again shortly. Are you going to be a good girl, baby? Or am I going to have to gag you?”
Marilyn blinked at him, struggled to speak, managed to form her mouth and make sound. “Goo ….” She watched his face to see if he’d understood the attempt and tried again. “B goo.” Please don’t gag me! I’m claustrophobic.
He studied her a moment longer and finally patted her cheek and left her.
When he moved away, she could see the two aliens she’d seen earlier.
With them were two smaller versions.
The two small ones tried to climb up the female when they discovered she was looking at them. She sat down on the edge of Jarrod’s couch and gathered both of them to her, as if she was comforting them.
The male began making angry sounds and waving his arms.
Jarrod made similar sounds back at him.
Marilyn didn’t have a clue of what they were discussing but it sounded a lot like an argument.
The female said something and both Jarrod and the male alien turned to look at her and then the two small ones.
Children.
Marilyn knew immediately that she was right. They weren’t just small versions, they were younger versions. But why the hell would they send—or bring—children along on an invasion?
The little ones kept peeking at her from beneath their mother’s arms and she felt a knot of empathy swell in her despite her suspicions.
Poor babies! She could see they were scared. Every time they looked at her, they clung to their mother and hid their faces.
She must look horrible to them.
Because they sure as hell looked horrible to her.
The arguing, if that was what it was, stopped.
Just about the time it did, the door burst inward and Dillard lumbered through the doorway, gun drawn and extended before him. “Nobody move!” he bellowed.
He hadn’t even gotten the order out when a ray shot across the room and hit him center mass. A look of surprise crossed his features and then he crumpled to the floor.
Following the ray to its origins, Marilyn gaped in horror at Jarrod, who had something held out in front of him and had assumed the same stance as Dilliard—like two cowboys having a shootout.
“Oh my god, Jarrod!” Gasping it out instinctively, Marilyn was surprised but distantly gratified that she at least had her voice back—even if it did sound strange to her ears. “You are going to be in so much trouble! Is he … dead?”
* * * *
Dillard’s inner bloodhound was thoroughly aroused by the time he’d managed to corner the weirdo for a second attempted interview. He didn’t make any more headway than he had the first time around—which told him the guy was a career criminal even though he couldn’t find a damned thing on him. He was just too damned good at evading any question thrown at him.
The suspicion that he was an undercover cop lingered, though. He’d checked out every database available for every case currently in the works, every branch of the law—nothing.
But it was the very fact that the guy just didn’t seem to exist anywhere earlier than a few months ago that made Dillard more and more certain that he was bad news.
Either he was just a common thug who’d had so much practice evading the law that he was a professional. Or he worked for the government—and he was dirty.
Dillard meant to find out which.
So he took it upon himself to stakeout the place—talking his partner in to splitting shifts with him since he couldn’t very well go to the brass and ask for resources to help his investigation.
But he was in luck. He hadn’t been watching more than a couple of days when the case broke wide open and he was the man on the job when it went down.
Whatever ‘it’ was.
And he was damned if he knew.
But right at 4:00 am, blue light started pulsing in the apartment, escaping the room darkening coverings over the windows in slivers that he might have missed if he hadn’t been watching that very apartment.
Something was up. Something weird.
Just as he was about to get out of his car, the weirdo came out his window and started down the ledge like he was strolling down a damned mile wide sidewalk!
“What the f?”
He walked right over to the fire escape and down it, around the building and back in the front door.
Ok so that was seriously fucking weird.
He got out of his car and headed inside in a hurry to catch the door before it closed. He’d made it inside and to the foot of the stairs when he heard sounds of a scuffle above him and a squeak from a feminine throat.
Jesus! That little idiot librarian/detective wannabe had just got caught if he wasn’t mistaken.
He rushed up the stairs as fast as he could, but he was so winded by the time he’d made it up the first flight, he had to stop and catch his breath.
He wasn’t gonna be any good to her if he passed out, now was he?
When he made it to the second floor, there was no sign of either of them, but they hadn’t come down and that meant they must be in her apartment or his.
He was guessing his. She was nosing around, again, and got caught.
He moved to that door as quickly and as quietly as he could and put his eye to the peephole to look into the apartment.
The little idiot was tied to a chair.
He was still trying to decide what to do about it—whether he had time to summon backup or if he was going to have to go it alone—when he saw … aliens?
“What the f?”
Shock rolled through him then. His mind cut loose trying to make sense out of something that just didn’t, tabulating so fast that it just shut down, like an overheated computer.
It was instincts—honed from years on the force—that made him bust through the door. There was no time to do anything but act!
And he wasn’t about to call in an alien sighting!
Or just turn tail and run.
Fortunately, it was a flimsy door lock. He didn’t need a battering ram. One blow from his
nearly two hundred fifty pounds and the jam splintered and the door flew open.
He didn’t actually know what happened next. He had his gun out, bellowed don’t move, and light exploded and then the lights went out.
* * * *
Ignoring Marilyn’s exclamation and the body on the floor, Jarrod left the room. When he came back he had a rope or cord in his hands and he knelt on the floor and hogtied the poor cop.
He hadn’t answered her question but hope arose that the guy must be ok or Jarrod wouldn’t have felt the need to tie him up.
He came back to her when he’d finished and leaned down to look her dead in the eyes. “I need you be quite, baby. These people could be in real trouble if you aren’t. Can I count on you?”
Marilyn blinked at him, realizing he was saying he was going to gag her if she didn’t keep her mouth shut. She nodded jerkily.
He caught her face between both hands and kissed her lightly on the mouth. “It’s ok, baby. I’m not going to hurt you.”
She would’ve felt a lot more relieved if he’d untied her.
Instead, he left her and crossed the room and picked up … something. She couldn’t actually tell what it was, but then he moved to the largest alien and … well, attached it to his skull.
When he stepped back, the alien didn’t look like an alien anymore. He looked human—like a very average roughly middle aged human male.
His children whimpered and the mother spoke to them soothingly and then got up and followed Jarrod to his worktable where the process was repeated.
When he finished there was an average American family standing in his living room.
Marilyn swallowed with an effort, struggling to assimilate what she’d seen and understand.
One thing leapt out at her.
“Are you …? Are you wearing one of those?” she whispered.
Jarrod whipped a sharp look at her, seemed to hesitate. Then, almost as if he was resigned, he touched his head.
The façade looked the same for a matter of seconds and then Marilyn realized he had horns … and wings, giant, feather covered angel-like wings. She sucked in a sharp breath and met his gaze.
His face, the one she’d fallen in love with, was just the same.
She felt like crying—with relief.
Guardian Page 7