by Stacy Jones
“I feel bad for stealing, but I have to admit this is kind of fun! I feel like a ninja,” she whispered as she tiptoed in Zaek’s wake.
She heard him snort and saw the flash of his white teeth in the darkness as he glanced back at her.
“I think you would be the planet’s tiniest ninja,” he rumbled.
“Ha! I’m not tiny! You’re just giant!” she fired back.
“I am indeed giant compared to you Earthians,” he conceded, but whispered tauntingly as he turned down a different isle, “but you are still tiny.”
Mira, being a mature thirty-three year old woman, stuck her tongue out at his back.
“Wait, why are we in the candy isle? I thought we were just taking the necessities,” she questioned when she realized where they were.
He looked back at her, the moonlight coming through the window showing her the appalled expression on his face.
“Candy is a necessity,” he answered, sounding just as appalled as he appeared.
Mira had a pretty serious sweet tooth, so she wasn’t exactly upset at the thought of having something to satisfy that craving. Still, she felt guilty for taking things she thought they could manage without, even if they were leaving money to compensate for their thievery.
Regardless, Zaek was the one doing all the flying, so if the alien wants candy, you give him candy. Hell, for all she knew, sugar could be a vital supplement for his wellbeing.
With that in mind, she grabbed one of her favorites off the shelf and added it to her bag.
Their next stop was a hardware store where they procured some of the tools Mira would need to work on the device. That store had a more complex security system than the others and took Zaek a few minutes longer to disable, but he managed it without setting off any audible alarms or alerting the police. Just before they finished, she took note of the prepaid cell phone Zaek grabbed up and intuitively added a signal booster to their haul.
Lastly, they went to a clothing store where he directed her to find whatever winter wear they had available, which wasn’t much, considering it was barely the beginning of autumn in Nevada.
She found a reasonably warm jacket, one long-sleeved shirt, a pair of pants, and hiking boots that were a size too big. She also grabbed a small blanket and a backpack to carry it all in. Zaek couldn’t wear it because of his wings, but she could. She wasn’t accustomed to being cared for and wasn’t willing to let him be solely responsible for their survival. The least she could do is have some way to carry some of the supplies, if they were ever forced to walk instead of fly.
Finished, they flew out of town just as unnoticed as they’d arrived.
The next leg of the trip was longer than the short flight to town since they didn’t have an actual destination in mind. They were searching for a safe place, one preferably away from any people, in which to spend the night.
She kept her fingers crossed he’d find something with running water so she could clean up, but after two hours turned into three she was just praying for somewhere with a flat surface on which she could collapse and massage her screaming muscles or curl into a shivering ball and try to recall what being warm felt like. It was barely cool on the ground, but this high up and at these speeds, it was cold.
Why the hell didn’t I think to put on some of those stolen clothes?!
He was doing a lot of the work of keeping her held securely against him with his arms around her back and his tail locking her ankles together, but not all of it and not nearly enough of it to make the ride any more bearable at that point. Mira made a stab at exercising once or twice a week, but she was convinced even a trained athlete would have trouble holding onto someone upside down, as they flew at considerable speed through the air for hours on end.
Miserable didn’t even begin to cover the state she was in. This was a level of hellish discomfort she’d never before known existed. She couldn’t even imagine how tired Zaek had to be, flying with a passenger for hours, especially after being injured during their escape.
Unbeknownst to her, she apparently started making pained groaning sounds in his ear. She only found this out when he removed one of his arms to pat down what he could reach of her body while yelling a demand that she tell him what part of her was hurt.
Mira, like any reasonable person would, sank her claws into his back and screamed bloody murder when she felt him let go which, in turn, made him unleash an animalistic roar. Whether he was hollering in alarm, in pain at her screeching in his ear, attempting to sink her fingers into the flesh of his back, or possibly in anger at the air for giving her some imagined injury, she didn’t know, but it scared the shit out of her. Her first thought was that they were under attack.
After a panicked look around at the empty nighttime sky, she discovered that was, thankfully, not the case.
When she kept screaming at him to hold her and failed to answer his question, he dove at the ground so quickly she was sure her intestines ended up lodged somewhere between her ears, and her brain abandoned her to save itself by leaking out of her eyeballs.
19
Mira
Zaek touched down with a jarring thud that had Mira’s teeth clacking together, then ran a few feet to bleed off the momentum of the rough landing. Skidding to a stop, he ripped the backpack off her, deposited her none too gently on the hard forest floor, then dropped down over her, straddling her with a knee on either side of her thighs.
Without even buying her dinner first—never mind the stolen food in his bag—he yanked her shirt up, groped her stomach and breasts, then flipped her over and repeated his impromptu manhandling session on her back and ass.
He kept her there, despite her indignant hissing and energetic wiggling, by holding her down with his strong tail against the back of her neck, but he made a grave error when he scooted down her body, groping all the way, far enough for her to get a leg free.
She promptly used that newly freed leg to donkey kick him right in the face.
He fell back with a yelp while she scrambled to hands and knees and spun around to face him, giving him her best glare as she adjusted her clothes back into place.
“Female! Why do you keep attacking me?” he bellowed from behind the hand covering his nose.
“Attacking you? I don’t know what kind of weird alien custom that was, but I have to tell you, I didn’t like it! You threw me on the ground! Then felt me up like some kind of handsy creeper!” she accused.
“Felt you up? You were groaning in pain! I thought you were injured! And threw?!” he shot back. “I would never! I… may have dropped you. Very gently! But I would never throw a female! My dam’s rearing of me was of superior quality than that!”
“Potato, po-ta-to!”
“What in all the thirteen planets do root vegetables have to do with anything?” he exclaimed.
“Huh? It’s just a saying.”
He growled low in his throat. “Humans and their idioms! At least this one did not allude to your impending death!”
“Neither did the last— never mind!”
He sighed in exasperation. They both glared out at the moonlit forest for a moment before she saw him glance at her from the corner of her eye. Looking back at him, she found him staring at her searchingly.
“So, you are well? Not hurt?” he asked, his voice softer now.
She grimaced wryly and stretched her arms out to try and get rid of the knots in her muscles. It didn’t work.
“Sorer than if I’d been thrown off a cliff and landed on a mound of rocks, but no, I’m fine. Sorry for kicking you in the face,” she added.
Now that she knew he’d been trying to see if she was hurt, she felt bad for lashing out. He’d taken her by surprise, and that just never seemed to end well for the surpriser.
“I am glad you are well, and apology accepted. Please accept my return apology. It was not my intention to feel you up and I shall endeavor not to take you by surprise. I may be hideous, but I would like to keep my features intact. Besi
des, I do not believe a broken snout or losing an eyeball would improve my looks,” he quipped with a charmingly crooked smirk.
“What? You’re not hideous,” she blurted.
“Mmm,” he murmured skeptically.
“Really!” she insisted. “I think you’re handsome.”
The patently disbelieving look he gave her slowly shifted to one of astonishment when she didn’t take back her statement, before changing again to bashfulness that was both endearing and strange to see on an alien.
“I, uh, you-we should… ”
Mira chuckled softly at how flustered he was, but took pity and helped him find the words she thought he was searching for.
“We should make camp?” she asked hopefully. “I don’t think I’m up for another flight so soon.”
“Yes. That. I will gather wood for a fire.”
With that, he pulled off his bag, got to his feet, and disappeared into the trees without another word, leaving her sitting on the forest floor. She definitely wasn’t an outdoors person, but she could hear him not far away. She stayed alert, but wasn’t overly worried.
Pretty sure even a grizzly bear would think twice before challenging Zaek.
Since he’d landed in a flat section of ground, clear of trees, she decided not to look for a more appealing spot to sleep for the night and did what she could to make camp.
They were in the middle of the woods, somewhere, and no matter how hard she listened she couldn’t hear any sounds of civilization nearby. While that dashed any lingering hopes of a hot shower, it also meant the chances of being found by the security team were slim, even on the off chance one of the stores they’d robbed had a security camera and caught them breaking in.
First order of business was putting on her stolen jacket and changing out her flats for thick socks and the hiking boots. After that she took stock of what they’d acquired.
Assuming Zaek ate more than a human male, she thought they had enough food—and candy—to last them maybe four days. Their water supply would have to be replenished often since it was heavy and took up a lot of room, but they had ten bottles for now. She’d taken necessary toiletries, including a pair of toothbrushes, toothpaste, and soap. Noticeably absent was a hairbrush. She looked but hadn’t seen one at the small general store and hadn’t wanted to take the time to wander around until she found one.
Eyeing his bag, she hesitated. She wanted to have food set out and ready when he came back, but it was all in there. Rifling through someone’s stuff, even knowing it contained supplies meant for the both of them, was rather impolite.
The hunger cramp that seized her stomach cinched it. Pulling his bag closer, she opened it and resolved to only pull out what she could see on the top. That, at least, was less rifling and more just retrieving. Right on top was a hairbrush.
Mira felt her jaw drop and picked the brush up with the kind of reverence most people reserved for priceless heirlooms.
I’m going to kiss that man—alien—when he gets back.
Forgetting the growling in her middle for a moment, she pulled her hair over one shoulder and started the Herculean task of brushing out the tangles.
She was halfway up the length when she heard him return. Glancing up, she found him standing a few feet away at the edge of the small clearing, his wings pulled around his front to help him hold a massive stack of sticks. When he didn’t finish his approach, she stiffened and scanned the forest around them.
“Zaek? Is everything okay? Do we need to go?”
He mumbled something to himself—something she was beginning to notice was a habit of his—but he didn’t answer. Mira cocked her head, wariness starting to become real worry, then followed his gaze and realized the slitted-eye look he was wearing wasn’t directed at her, but at her hand.
Why in the world does he look jealous?
20
Zaek
“She found it,” he murmured to himself, staring at the brush in Mira’s hand—the one he’d taken with the singular intention of using it on her himself.
He had not become so unsocialized as to think that randomly touching a female’s hair for no apparent reason was a thing males did, or something females would take kindly to. But, if she had a head full of tangles and he conveniently produced a hairbrush, he thought there was a better-than-good chance she would be so appreciative that she’d let him pet—er, brush it for her.
“I’m sorry. I was looking for food and opened your bag and it was right there on top. I thought, seeing as you don’t have any hair—not that I’ve seen, anyway—that it was for me. But I can put it back if you want,” she offered reluctantly, watching him like he’d completely lost his senses.
Abruptly dropping the sticks he’d gathered, Zaek took a step toward her before he stopped himself.
“You are tired,” he declared, a little more forcefully than he’d intended.
“Uhh, yes?” Her face screwed up in confusion and her response came out more question than statement.
He nodded sagely and continued, “Your knuckles are still injured and your arms are sore. Mine are not. I should do that for you.”
She blinked at him, but didn’t say no. She didn’t actually say anything. Taking that as agreement, he grunted decisively and strode toward her. He settled himself at her back, wings spread out behind him like a cloak, and stretched his legs out to either side of her bent knees.
Mira had tracked his progress and was twisted around, gaping up at him sitting behind her.
He plucked the brush out of her still-raised hand then gently guided her face forward with a finger on her chin. Tail twitching with anticipation, he tenderly gathered her hair in his fist and pulled it around until it fell down her back like a curly black waterfall.
“I’ve never had someone brush my hair,” she said softly.
A sense of pride filled him that he would be the first, even as he mentally criticized her past tanem—temporary mates taken for companionship before a person found their true mate.
His voice was husky and a little garbled from the rapidly swelling gland when he whispered back, “I am honored to be the first.”
She sat stiffly for the first few minutes but, eventually, she relaxed.
“This is actually kind of nice,” she murmured.
He hummed an agreement, using his claws more than the brush at that point. All the tangles had been successfully vanquished, but he was enjoying himself too much to stop without her prompting him, which she didn’t.
After a while she started to sway before slowly, gradually, slumping against him. Zaek froze with one hand buried in her hair and the other holding her so she didn’t tip over and hit the ground. Craning his neck forward, he peeked at her face and found her sleeping, her eyes closed and her mouth parted just slightly.
That show of trust, that she felt comfortable enough to fall asleep in his arms, was both humbling and exhilarating, even if it also meant he couldn’t pet her any longer without taking the risk of waking her up.
Poor bunny. She must be exhausted.
Of course she is exhausted. We need to take better care of her.
We have taken wonderful care of her! Has she been shot even once? Is she terrified or bleeding everywhere? No. We are obviously naturally skilled at Earthian safekeeping.
To prove it, he moved with the utmost care and very gently got to his knees, then lowered her to the ground, so she was lying on her side. He grabbed the blanket she’d thoughtfully procured and covered her, tucking it around her like she was a burrito—his favorite Earthian fare, aside from candy. When he was finished, only her face was left exposed.
He stayed there, kneeling over her, and watched her sleep for a moment until the distinct feeling of being a creeper, as she put it, hit him. Grimacing, he got up and busied himself making a fire and packing up the food she’d taken out before he settled across the fire from her to work on tweaking the cell phone he’d taken. He wanted to be able to listen in on the soldiers so he’d have a warn
ing if they managed to pick up their trail.
While making a tracker gave him difficulties, he was more experienced with radios. He’d been modifying and using them for decades in order to monitor the frequency the rescue beacon operated on, so he’d be ready when it fell from orbit. Cell phones were basically complicated radios, he reasoned.
Experience or not, he would’ve been more successful at actually making progress if he didn’t spend at least half his time staring at her instead of concentrating on the task at hand.
He knew his initial rationalization that his mating gland reacted because of an allergy was illogical but, more than that, he no longer wanted it to be true. He liked her.
She was… incredible.
Courageous, intelligent, outspoken, beautiful, witty, and amusing. Aside from not being Khargal—which he found himself caring about less and less the more he was around her—she was everything he’d ever fantasized his mate would be. Even more encouraging, not only did she not think he was ugly, she said she found him attractive. If she’d been Khargal, she would not have thought so.
On the off chance he found his true mate after all these years, Zaek had known he would have to rely on his other qualities to charm her. Everyone said you fell instantly in love the moment you met your Hondassa, but he knew that was not always the case. His dam told him of her initial doubts when she met his sire but that he’d eventually won her over.
The real problem, other than convincing her she wanted an alien as a mate and also wanted to go with him to a planet she’d never seen or heard of, was that he had no idea if his mating fluid would work on her for the long term. Petronus, Roc’s sire, found a true mate among the Earthians, but she’d died birthing Roc. Petronus’ dassa hadn’t been enough to save her.