ALIEN SHIFTER ROMANCE: Alien Tigers - The Complete Series (Alien Invasion Abduction Shapeshifter Romance) (Paranormal Science Fiction Fantasy Anthologies & Short reads)

by Tanya Jolie

  “What’s wrong with field agents?” Anita asked, more inclined to defend the director of the CIA than an asshole like John, the trigger-happy United States General.

  John ignored her, his gaze fixed on Holland. “Mr. President, if you are planning to infiltrate a base, you need to send people that know what they’re dealing with.”

  But Holland shook his head. “I’d rather risk exposing a member of the Intelligence than actual military personnel. If it comes out that we put our military on their grounds, we could be facing a lot more than the decision to go to war.”

  John reluctantly agreed, and the four of them went to work mobilizing the operatives. They danced around each other with their words and their bodies, drafting strategies and coming up with plans A, B, C, and D. Anita found that she had almost forgotten the bigger picture, the looming, violent future in light of accomplishing this relatively small task. It was simple: send men into the newly erected Palestinian base to conduct an analysis of the artillery and to trace its whereabouts. Anita found herself almost actually calming down as she sat down at the table and watched the field agents through their bodycams. Until, that is, they were able to determine that the Palestinian invasion was nearly undeniably fueled by the Kremlin.

  “Get Putin on the phone,” Holland said, but he didn’t have time for his order to trickle down the ranks. He picked up the phone on the small table in the back corner of the room and started dialing. Anita watched the room spin as Hector took off his baseball cap, squeezing it in his hands. The three of them listened to the president’s words, watched him declare war on Russia.

  She racked her brains for any other solution, but she found none. When she took her position at the start of her term, she promised herself she would make a third World War a fundamental impossibility, but for the last three years, a series of short fixes to small problems had led to this moment, right here. The moment that started the third Great War in under a century.

  “Russia had it coming,” Hector muttered.

  “We all did,” John said.

  Anita could only agree with the both of them.

  Chapter Six

  Anita sat alone in her office, listening to the sounds of the afternoon happening right outside of her window. She leaned over her desk, her hands folded in front of her as she struggled to wrap her mind around what had just happened, what she had just let happen. “What have we done?” she whispered.

  No sooner had the question slipped out did she hear a knock on the door. “Come in!” Her voice came out horse and weak.

  The door opened and Jori stepped inside, shutting it behind her. “The president just gave his press conference.”

  Anita nodded.

  Jori sat down in the chair across from her.

  Anita could feel her harsh gaze. “What is it, Jori?”

  “How could you do it?”

  “There are no other choices.”

  “I disagree.”

  Anita shook her head. It wasn’t a question of agreeing or disagreeing. This was life or death. They were faced with two decisions: a bad one and a horrible one. It seemed that everywhere she looked, the world was forging on and dragging her behind it. The United States had been playing the reactionary role in foreign policy for far too long. This was the only thing she could have done. “I don’t know what you expect from me.”

  Jori shrugged. “Maybe to be the woman I used to know?”

  “Times are changing. People have to change with it.”

  “But, aren’t you afraid at all, about how many lives are going to be affected?”

  “Every decision I make affects millions of lives.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  Anita leaned back into her chair. “I’m afraid I don’t.”

  “You started World War III.”

  “It was going to happen anyway.”

  Jori nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. Anita could see her eyes brimming with tears. “As a politician, as a tactician, I have stood behind your every decision from the moment you stepped inside of the White House, because I trusted you. You were my white knight, my infallible hero.”

  Anita flexed her jaw. “That’s hardly fair.”

  “Rhodes, you were my best friend—”

  “Were?”

  “Yes, were,” Jori replied as she stood up. She turned to leave, but then stopped herself, chancing one last glance back at Anita. “As a friend, there was a time I would have stood by you, no matter what you did. But that version of you would have been the one I met on my first day of middle school. She was the kind little girl with frizzy hair and glasses, who then turned into the scary badass who graduated high school when she was sixteen, and then became the fearless woman who decided to protect and serve. But she was never this. She was never the suit in an office pushing buttons and ending the world.”

  She walked out, shutting the door behind her, before Anita could bring herself to say anything by way of a response. She stood up and rounded her desk. Part of her wanted run after Jori, but an even bigger part of her wondered what she could say. Jori wasn’t wrong, after all; she had changed, and this was big. She was having trouble convincing even herself that she had done the right thing, let alone anyone else.

  It was as she stood there, her thoughts hanging in the air, that her door swung open, slamming against the wall next to it. Her head snapped up as she blinked twice, taking in the sight of Bruce standing there, looking disheveled with his flushed skin and his coat hanging wide open. “I have been looking for you everywhere.”

  Anita shrugged. “I’ve been right here.”

  “I heard what you did, and—”

  But Anita raised her hand. “Okay, everyone just needs to shut up about ‘what I did’. I didn’t make that decision alone.”

  Instead of flaring up on her like she expected, Bruce remained curiously calm. “I just wanted to apologize.” He sighed, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him. “I should have found you sooner.”

  “What do you mean? You know exactly where I was. I’ve been with the president all afternoon.”

  But Bruce didn’t seem to be listening to her. “I needed to tell you not to go to war.”

  Anita rolled her eyes. “Well, if that’s what you barged in here to say, then you’re not the only one. You know what? News flash: no one wants to go to war.”

  “You don’t understand—”

  “What? What don’t I understand exactly? I’ve been here longer than you, and I’m just as qualified as anyone else in this House to make those decisions. I’m so fucking sick and tired of people telling me that I don’t understand.”

  Bruce crossed her office in three long strides and grabbed her shoulders. “They want a war.”

  Anita glowered into his intense eyes, wondering what the hell he was talking about. “And who are they?”

  Bruce let her go, stepping away as quickly as he had come. “I’ve already said too much.”

  Anita set her jaw. “If you don’t have answers, you can get the hell out.”

  “Look, I know I can’t you everything—”

  “You haven’t even tried.”

  Bruce let out a deep breath, looking away from her. “I am not what everyone here assumes I am. I am not a friendly entity. But those that I answer to want a war.”

  “Are you a spy?” Anita’s eyes stung with the promise of tears. Her heart fluttered in her chest as she glared at him. “Are you a fucking spy?” She felt dirty just being in the same room as him.

  He shook his head. “No. Not exactly.”

  “So what are you saying?”

  “That I know with all certainty that a war will end us. I should never have drafted that resolution.”

  “We drafted it.”

  “I manipulated you.”

  Anita shook her head. “No. No, you couldn’t have known. I… It’s not like the thought didn’t cross my mind, but it’s just that the chance of it happening was so slim that—”

>   “I knew. I have the resources to know these things, and I knew exactly what would happen.”

  Anita’s eyes went wide as she stared at him, her mouth hanging slightly ajar. None of this made any sense… and yet it did. “You did this. You started the war.”

  The tears that had welled up in Bruce’s eyes had begun to overflow. The large man Anita had met less than a month before, with his posture and his looks and his attitude, had been reduced to this trembling mess of organic matter standing before her. She wasn’t sure if she was more or less attracted to him because of it.

  Even though she would do anything to avoid what was already happening. Even though she hated what he had done, seeing him like this, agonizing over a mistake she didn’t even fully understand, made her heart crumble. He’d saved her more than once. He’d made her feel more alive than anyone had in a long time.

  And she could think of nothing to say. Every consolatory phrase felt like a lie. So she took the three necessary steps towards him, wrapped her arms around his torso, and rested her head on his chest.

  She could feel it rising and falling as he heaved his sobs, his hands clutching to her relatively small body for dear life. They were both shaking in his pain, and when Anita finally broke out in her sobs of her own, she couldn’t tell whether she was crying for herself, or for him.

  They stood there for another moment longer, before Bruce buried his chin in her hair and said, “I regret everything.”

  Epilogue

  Anita slammed her fists against the door of Bruce’s house. After waiting an entire week to run into him at the White house, and being disappointed on each of the seven days, she had decided she could wait no longer. She needed to see him. “Bruce!” she yelled as soon as she heard the sound of shuffling coming from the other side of the door.

  She stared at the aged wood for another moment longer before she started to hear the sound of another voice. Her eyes narrowed as she assumed it was that Lexus woman from the other day. But as she pressed her ear against the door, she realized that that didn’t quite make sense. The other voice was male.

  She knocked on the door yet again. “Bruce, I can hear you in there! Why are you avoiding me?”

  There was more shuffling and more voices before she heard the back door open and shut. Then, outside, she could hear the rustle of the leaves. She walked across the porch, peering around the side of the house just in time to see what looked like another tiger running into the woods.

  A gasp slipped out of her mouth just as the front door was yanked open.

  “Rhodes!”

  Anita turned to find Bruce’s head peering from inside of his house. She tried to cover up her own embarrassment by charging him. “Where the hell have you been?” She pushed past him into his house.

  Bruce scoffed, but shut the door behind her anyway. “I can’t take a couple of days off without you storming my house?”

  Anita grimaced at this. “Uhm, after what happened the last time we saw each other? No you fucking can’t.”

  “I’ve told you a million times. I can’t tell you anything!” Bruce yelled, stabbing his chest with his finger.

  “Well, that’s not enough!”

  Bruce approached her, staring her down. “Who do you think you are?”

  Anita cocked her head to the right. “I think I’m the person you practically told you were a spy.”

  Bruce rolled his eyes. “I’m not a fucking spy.”

  “So what the hell are you?” Anita asked as the image of the tiger she’d just seen came to mind. “And why do you have a tiger?”

  “I don’t have a tiger.” Bruce clamped his jaw shut. His eyes widening as if he thought that he had said far too much.

  “Do you have friends with tigers?” Anita demanded. “Are you a tiger?”

  “That is a ridiculous accusation,” he snapped.

  “You’re a ridiculous person,” Anita said, standing her ground, even though she could feel herself becoming more and more engulfed in his scent. Her body was drawn to his, their attraction becoming harder and harder to deny.

  He took her face in both of his hands. “I’ve told you. I can’t say anything more.” He dragged her into a kiss, pressing his lips against hers.

  Anita clutched hiss flannel shirt, allowing herself to melt into his kiss for a short moment before she realized what he was doing. “No!” she yelled, shoving him away. “I demand answers, or I will tell Hector what you told me, and then they will dig and dig until they find the answers themselves.”

  “You would do that?”

  “Hell yes, I would do that. I would expose you in a second.”

  “And if I tell you now? If I tell you exactly what I am and you happen to believe me, would you keep that secret?”

  Anita hadn’t thought of that, so she lied. “Yes.” Her heart pounded in her chest as she realized just how close she was to the resolution of what had occupied her thoughts for so long.

  He scoffed. “Then here it is, if you choose to believe. I was sent here by a nation of extraterrestrial beings to incite a war that would render humans defenseless, against themselves and against us.”

  Anita froze.

  But he kept talking. “But if you believe that, also know that I have every intention of stopping what I started, no matter what it takes.”

  She shook her head. “How the hell would you do that? What’s done is done,” she whispered.

  He grabbed her chin, tilting her face up to meet his. “As someone famous once said… Never say never?”

  Anita giggled, in spite of herself. “I think you’re full of shit.”

  As soon as she got those words out of her mouth, he kissed her again, holding her there until she was sure he’d been lying… about everything.

  THE END

  Dear Reader,

  I have included an entirely FREE Romance books Collection at the end of this Story, it includes Paranormal Romance, Biker Romance, Alien Romance, plus some extra categories.

  To read the collection, just to keep scrolling down after reading the main story you originally purchased, or check the Table of Contents.

  **This is my way of saying thank you for reading my book! :)**

  Paranormal & Shifter Romance Collection

  Surrender to the Alpha Publishing

  Tempted by the Dragon

  Dragon Shifter Romance

  Tempted by the Dragon

  Chapter One

  News of the dragon in the Wyndwae province spread across the countryside like a blaze from the mouth of the beast itself. In a week’s time it reached the inn of The Dancing Mer on the southern coast, and there it found Mairead Curran, slayer of monsters.

  Of Mairaed there were many legends. It was whispered that she had vanquished at last the beast of the Breywood, whose jaws had been the end of three dozen men. Bards sang of the arrows that had laid waste in fire and steel to the lair of the manticore and slain the basilisk in the western mountains.

  Of her beauty too, they sang. She was tall for a woman, and long-limbed, her auburn hair streaked with copper and tawny gold by long days beneath the southern sun. They said men traveled the lengths of continents to lay their spoils at her feet in hopes of her favor.

  This last, at least, was quite untrue. Mairead herself had started the rumor, well aware that men who could afford to travel continents sought princesses to wife, not women who battled monsters, but it pleased her to let people think it was otherwise. As for the rest, well, it was true as any story which had passed through a hundred hands can be.

  When news came of the dragon, Mairead was sitting at a table in the fire lit common room of the inn, with a tankard of mead in her hand, debating the relative merits of the bow versus the sword with Vreden, who had once been a knight of renown. He was aging, grey in the dark hair at his temples, but his sword arm was still strong. Mairaed’s own bow leaned against the wall at her side, her quiver with it.

  “Perhaps,” she said, giving Vreden a look from over the top
of her tankard, “you receive some measure of satisfaction from taking the heads off of beasts at close range. I, however, am content to make my name from the safety of distance. Were I one to choose practicality over pride, I would have joined that illustrious company of men who found themselves within reach of the Breywood beast’s many sharp teeth.”

  Vreden’s eyes narrowed, but the bang of the wooden door swinging wide to admit a cloaked and hooded stranger interrupted him. Every gaze in the room turned toward the newcomer, who was pulling the hood down from over his hair, his cloak dripping rainwater onto the floorboards. He shook the dark fall of hair back from his face, and Mairead felt his eyes move over her and the others at her table. When he swept his cloak back over his shoulder, she could see the insignia of the king’s message riders on the shoulder of his tabard.

  “Buy me an ale to take the chill from my bones,” he offered the room at large, “and I will share some news which has only today come in from the Wyndwae.” His eyes caught on Mairead’s again. “I believe it will be of some interest to you.”

  Mairead rose from her chair with a whisper of leather against wood and sauntered over to the bar, setting a coin down on the sleek wood of its top with a clack.

  “There is your ale, then.”

  He took the tankard the innkeeper set before him and drank deeply before he spoke again, inclining his head in thanks.

  “There is rumor,” he said, leaning against the bar on one elbow, his dark eyes looking into her own, “that a dragon has been sighted in the north of the Wyndwae.”

  Mairead’s snort was decidedly unladylike.

  “There has not been a dragon seen in Lyndoun in half a century.”

  “And yet there is one now. My brother saw it with his own eyes, a great black shape against the full moon.”

  In his eyes there was no deceit, and Mairead considered his story as she tipped her own tankard back, mead flowing sweet across her tongue and warming her throat.