Embrace the Passion: Pets in Space 3

Home > Other > Embrace the Passion: Pets in Space 3 > Page 11
Embrace the Passion: Pets in Space 3 Page 11

by Smith, S. E.


  “Trescina,” Chad quietly said, drawing Walkyr’s attention back to the man.

  Walkyr growled in warning when the man touched Trescina’s arm. Chad looked at him with a guarded expression. Walkyr rose to his feet, favoring his injured leg, bared his teeth, and moved his gaze from the man’s face to the hand touching Trescina and then back to his face. Chad nodded warily and immediately pulled away.

  “I’ll be alright. I told you, this type of cat is notorious for its temperament around people. A few days of healing in a quiet place and he’ll be feeling better. I’ll make sure I keep him secure,” she said.

  Chad shook his head. “It’s not that. Are you sure this… cat is what you say it is?” he asked.

  Trescina turned and locked her eyes with his. She nodded. Walkyr frowned when he saw a look of fear flash through her eyes before it was gone.

  “You don’t need to worry, Chad. I know exactly what he is,” she quietly replied.

  10

  “Back off, you two. No, you can’t sniff his you-know-what, Cinnamon. That is just gross. Spice, will you quit growling? He’s in a cage and not going to hurt anyone,” Trescina scolded.

  Chad chuckled uneasily as he watched the two white tigers curiously circle the cage. He had followed Trescina from the rescue center to the quaint yellow cottage. He was glad the house couldn’t talk. If it could, he was sure that Trescina’s unusual pets would be the least surprising things it would share.

  Sometimes Chad felt like he was lost in Alice’s Wonderland. All he needed was the Queen of Hearts to come thundering out of the woods shouting ‘Off with her head!’ at the top of her voice. Instead, he was helping Trescina gingerly move the cage from the back of his truck and into the attached garage.

  He stood back and watched as she tenderly scolded the white tigers who were trying to assess their new visitor. Instinctively, he swept his gaze over the house that had formerly belonged to Carmen Walker and her husband, Scott. For a moment, he felt a sense of regret when he remembered the beautiful young woman who had known both love and profound tragedy during her time here. In some ways, those memories seemed as if they were from a lifetime ago instead of a few short years. It was hard to believe that Carmen—and his sister, Sandy, who had resided in the house after Carmen left—now lived on Valdier, an alien world that he could only imagine with its dragon-shifting warriors and their gold symbiot companions.

  He had debated if he should mention the unusual visitors that came to the Grove Ranch to Trescina before he silently shook his head. He would if it became absolutely necessary—and he had her signature on a non-disclosure. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten her with tales of shape-shifting aliens.

  He half-wondered who he was kidding as he watched Trescina scratch one Siberian tiger under the chin while pressing a kiss to the nose of the other one. Given the way she handled these wild cats, Trescina would fit right in with their alien visitors. Her ability to communicate with them was right in line with the strange things the alien warriors did. He would never forget the day he’d pulled up to the ranch and found a bunch of baby dragonlings slipping into the house and devouring the breakfast Ann Marie had made.

  Lately, the alien visitors were beginning to seem more like visiting tourists and a lot less alien to him. Fortunately, there were currently none visiting the ranch. For the last couple of years, it seemed like there were almost always a handful of aliens from different worlds at the ranch.

  Last month, it had reached the point that Ann Marie grumbled it was a full-time job trying to keep up with their arrivals. It was becoming harder and harder to keep their activities a secret. He and Mason were waiting for the day when the government suddenly descended on the ranch wearing radiation suits and brandishing big guns.

  “I really need to retire,” he muttered under his breath.

  “What?” Trescina asked, turning to look at him.

  Chad shook his head. “Nothing. Where do you want him?” he asked, nodding toward the sleeping leopard in the cage.

  “I’ve got it from here. The cage is on wheels. I’ll close the garage door. He’ll be fine,” she reassured him.

  “Trescina…,” he started to say, looking at the leopard with a frown.

  “Is there something wrong?” she asked.

  Chad shook his head again and sighed. “I hope not. I really, really hope not,” he murmured. “If you need anything, let me know. I’ll come by tomorrow and check on you.”

  Trescina hesitated a moment before she nodded and smiled at him. He sensed that she didn’t really want him around. Once again, he felt a nagging suspicion that he was missing something. Perhaps it was time to pull the background check he had completed when Trescina applied to rent the house. He had read through it, but everything appeared to check out. Even Heather had vouched for Trescina, stating that when the rescue center was first opened, she had read many of the behavioral articles that Trescina had written over the years.

  He waved his hand to her when she stepped into the garage and pressed the remote to close it. Only when the door was sealed did he turn back to his truck. Opening the door, he climbed into the driver’s seat. He started the engine, thankful that it was still warm enough that the heat quickly filled the interior. He glanced in the rear-view mirror before he shifted the truck into drive. If he ever had any reservations that Trescina would be able to handle the huge cat, they had dissipated when he watched her through the clear glass just before they left. He hadn’t been able to hear what she was saying to the massive feline, but whatever it was, the cat appeared to understand. The cat had taken the sedative tablets that Heather had given Trescina out of the palm of her hand without any resistance before he calmly did a three legged hobble down the hall behind her and into the transport cage. Five minutes later, he was sound asleep. Chad snorted as he remembered the cat’s glare before his eyes closed.

  “I’m glad he wasn’t an alien,” he chuckled, thinking that Trescina would have been in for a shock to discover her Siberian leopard could change into a man. “I bet she’s never seen a cat who could do that before!”

  * * *

  Pain shot through Walkyr when he rolled onto his side. His eyes popped open and he moaned before he closed his eyes again and gritted his teeth. He felt like he’d been hit by a full-grown dragon.

  He slowly opened his eyes again. His head felt like it was filled with fluff, and his leg was throbbing, reminding him that he had yet to heal the fracture. He turned his head when he heard a loud yawn. Lifting his head an inch off the thick blanket he was lying on, he looked into the wide mouth of a creature that looked a lot like a Sarafin warrior in his cat form.

  “Spice, go in the house, love. I’m sure he doesn’t want to see what you had for lunch. It’s good to see that you’re finally awake. I was worried that you died. It would have been a pain in the ass if you had. Digging a hole when the ground is frozen can be a bitch,” Trescina calmly stated.

  Walkyr focused and his body shimmered as he shape-shifted. Black dots danced in front of his eyes for a moment as the change jarred the break in his leg. He breathed deeply through his nose and waited for the pain to subside.

  “Your… compassion is heartwarming. How long… how long was I out?” he replied in a voice edged with pain.

  “A little over five hours. You know, you probably shouldn’t shape-shift with a broken bone. It will only cause you more pain,” she stated.

  He slowly turned his head to glare at her. “And how would you know that?” he demanded.

  She grinned at him. “I’ve read my share of paranormal romance novels. Obviously romance writers know a thing or two about shape-shifters and broken bones,” she cheekily retorted.

  Walkyr laid his head back against the pad and closed his eyes. “For some reason, I’m rather glad I have no idea of what you are talking about,” he muttered.

  She stood up and walked closer to the cage. He peered up at her through the bars. She was holding a steaming mug between her hands. />
  “Who are you?” she quietly asked.

  Walkyr gazed up at her. “Prince Walkyr d’Rojah,” he replied with a wry smile.

  She looked at him with a skeptical expression. “So, is Prince your first name or a title?” she asked.

  “My title. Do you think perhaps we could continue this conversation after I have healed my injuries?” he inquired.

  She looked at his leg. “I had Heather X-ray it before we loaded you in the back of Chad’s truck. Fortunately, you only suffered a hairline fracture of the fibula. You have really dense bones, by the way. That would explain why you are so damn heavy. We had to use the winch to get you up the ramp and into the truck,” she replied.

  He looked at her with a disbelieving scowl. “I can’t believe you lied to me. You swore you would not let that woman near me with her primitive medical tools,” he said with a shake of his head.

  “No, I didn’t. I promised not to let anyone hurt you if you took the sedative,” she corrected.

  “I only agreed because you threatened to leave me there if I didn’t,” he retorted.

  He pulled the portable medical device from the pouch around his waist, turned it on, and switched the scanner to bone regeneration. Running it along the back of his leg, he felt immediate relief from the throbbing pain. He switched the device to tissue repair and ran the device over his calf before he moved the soothing beams over the other bruises on his shoulder, arm, and hip.

  “What are you doing?” she curiously asked.

  He shot her a frown. “Healing the damage from my collision with the transport,” he answered.

  The skeptical expression returned to her face. “With a flashlight?” she scoffed.

  He shook his head in irritation. “This is not a flashlight. It is a portable medical repair unit that my brother developed,” he explained, holding up the device before sliding it back into a pouch at his waist.

  “Yeah, right. I see you’ve been watching a few too many science fiction movies when you’re not out killing people,” she sarcastically retorted.

  “The men I was trying to kill are traitors to my world. I need to keep this situation contained. How many humans know about me?” he demanded, twisting around in the cage until he was facing the lock.

  “Traitors…. Your world…. You shouldn’t move! Your leg….,” she stammered, backing up several steps.

  He looked at her and gave her a sharp-toothed grin. “Healed. Now, will you let me out of this cage, or am I expected to get out of it myself?” he queried.

  She shook her head and looked at him with wide, wary eyes. Her lips parted, then she clamped them together, and placed the cup of steaming liquid on a long shelf near the steps leading into the house.

  At first he thought she was going to unlock the cage, but then she reached behind her and pulled a disturbingly familiar device out of her back pocket. He paled when he saw it and scooted to the back of the cage, far from the opening. Raising his hands in the air, he kept his gaze locked on the black box in her hand.

  “Be careful with that thing. If it is what I think it is, neither my cat nor I like it. I’ve seen what it can do,” he said.

  She waved the taser at him. “Good. Then I guess you are going to answer my questions without giving me any trouble,” she snapped.

  “I will answer your questions if you answer mine,” he countered, slowly lowering his hands.

  She shook her head and gave him a grin that sent a shiver of unease down his spine. “I don’t think you are in a position to negotiate. First off, I want you to remove that nice little belt you have on. Keep one hand in the air and remove it with your other hand. I’ll take the weird holster at your side and the blade in your boot, too. If you try anything, I’ll light you up brighter than Macy’s on Christmas Day,” she threatened.

  “Why don’t you take my clothing as well? That way you could leave me completely defenseless,” he snapped.

  He was surprised when he saw her cheeks turn a rosy shade of red. His irritation turned to amusement. His badass female—another phrase he’d learned from his new sisters—wasn’t as bad as she pretended.

  Empowered by that knowledge, he did as she asked. He threaded his utility belt through the bars of the cage before he removed his laser pistol and slid it through as well. Finally, he removed the blade he had sheathed in his left boot. He had to admit he was impressed with her thoroughness. When he was done, she carefully knelt and pulled the items out of his reach.

  “Are you going to ask me questions or simply leave me guessing what you wish to know?” he asked, folding his arms and leaning back against the cage.

  “Where are you from?” she demanded.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Far away,” he replied.

  She scowled at him. “That’s not an answer,” she retorted with a frown.

  He studied her face. His fingers itched to gently sweep a curly strand of hair back from her cheek. His body responded to the thought. This was crazy. He was sitting in an animal cage thinking that all he wanted to do was run his fingers through the soft hair of the woman who was threatening him.

  That not all, his cat snickered.

  Shut up, he muttered.

  He leaned his head back against the bars. “My home world is called Sarafin. I could give you the specific location, but it would be easier to show you on a star chart—though, I seriously doubt your scientists are familiar with my galaxy. According to my brothers and their mates, humans are not aware that alien life truly exists,” he calmly explained.

  She warily stared at him, then slowly sank back down onto the steps. Behind her, he could see the white heads of two tigers. His cat purred.

  What are you so happy about? he asked.

  She love cats, his cat replied.

  Walkyr didn’t bother to point out that while she might love cats, she also hadn’t hesitated to hold a knife to his cat’s throat or threaten to shock him. He kept his gaze locked on her face. She was very pale, and her hands trembled.

  “Are you telling me that you… that you are an alien from another planet?” she demanded.

  He gave a brief nod. “Yes. The Sarafin are cat-shifters whereas the Curizans harness the energy around them, and the Valdier are dragon-shifters. Who and what we are is a gift from the Goddess,” he quietly added.

  He sat forward when she swayed. He warily eyed her hand when she tightened her fingers around the device. She must have sensed his worry because she aimed the taser at the ground.

  “I want to know everything,” she ordered in a low, quivering voice. “I want to know about your world, how you got here, and most importantly, why you are here.”

  “If I swear on my honor that I will not harm you, will you release me? I will tell you everything that you wish to know. I believe we would be a little more… comfortable if I was not sitting in a cage,” he suggested.

  Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. He tried to give her one of his most sincere, reassuring smiles. After a few seconds, his smile faded to a deep sigh when her expression didn’t change. He was surprised when she suddenly rose to her feet and stepped closer to the cage.

  He silently watched as she pulled a key from her pocket. She shot him a look of warning before she slid the key into the lock and twisted it. She slid the lock off, stepped back, and motioned to him.

  “I swear, if you so much as breathe wrong, my cats and I will tear you to pieces,” she warned.

  “Don’t breathe wrong or I’ll be torn to pieces—yes, I understand. Your threat has me shaking in my boots,” he replied, trying not to show his amusement.

  She raised her eyebrow at him and gave him a sweet smile. “You should be. Make sure you shut the door behind you when you enter the house,” she quipped.

  He paused in mid-scoot to warily watch her. He noticed when she turned that she hadn’t yet pocketed the device in her hand. She picked up the cup she had set aside a few minutes before and calmly climbed the steps into the house without a backward glance.

 
He had to admit he was impressed. She had just learned aliens were real and he was one of them, and already she was nonchalantly turning her back to him. That was one hell of a poker face.

  11

  Back in the forest:

  Wyoming

  The blanket of snow moved ever so slightly before a hand pushed up through it. A moment later, Ranker’s upper body broke through the layer that had covered him. He gasped in the fresh air, pulling it deep into his starving lungs.

  He struggled to pull the lower half of his body out. Shivering from the cold, he finally rolled onto the packed ice and stared up at the heavy gray clouds. He was going to kill Walkyr d’Rojah and leave him to rot on this miserable planet.

  Rolling onto his hands and knees, he pushed off the ground. He looked around him. The wide gully they had landed in was half-filled with snow from the avalanche. Now the mountain above only had a thin coating of snow that had gathered overnight. There would not be an imminent second avalanche.

  Ranker turned back and looked toward where Nastran and the ship should be. He lowered his hand to his side, and cursed when he realized that he had lost his laser pistol. Rolling his shoulders, he focused and shape-shifted into his cat.

  What we do? his cat demanded.

  We locate Nastran and the ship, and find some weapons. Then, we go after d’Rojah and the human boy, he stated.

  His cat lowered its head and began to sniff. He narrowed in on Nastran’s scent and began to dig. Thirty minutes later, he had uncovered Nastran’s dead body. A piece of metal from the ship protruded from the man’s chest. The avalanche must have thrown him onto it.

  He continued digging. Several feet from Nastran’s body he found the dead man’s laser rifle. He scraped the ice and snow from the weapon. Checking the power, he turned and aimed it at Nastran’s body. In seconds, the dead man was nothing more than a pile of black ash against the white snow.

  Turning the rifle in the direction he believed the ship was located, he set the rifle to emit a wide beam to clear the area of snow. Two hours later, he had the back section of the ship exposed. He stood and carefully appraised the damage. The snow was the least of his concerns. The ship could easily rise out of the compacted ice crystals as long as the engines were clear. They would melt the surrounding snow. He would need to complete the repairs to the ship, though, if they wanted to safely escape the planet.

 

‹ Prev