by Smith, S. E.
Trescina felt her gut tighten. Before, she had kept the secret of her existence because she was afraid of what would happen to herself and her sister. Now, it was obvious that there were greater influences involved—powers from another world.
“Think of what it would do to the planet, Heather. People aren’t ready to know there is other life out there. You need to think about what would happen to you… and to Zeke,” Trescina cautioned.
“But… what if the… they plan to attack us and I say nothing?” Heather whispered.
Trescina shook her head. “Walkyr said they don’t want to alarm us. He just wants to find the men who came here and return to his own world,” she reassured Heather as she stepped back from the SUV.
“No promises, but… I’ll think about what you said,” she replied, rolling up the window.
15
Miami, Florida
The unpleasant smell of cigarette smoke filled the air. The heavy-set man leaning against the side of the car lifted the butt of the almost finished cigarette to his mouth. He drew in one last breath before he dropped the remains to the ground and stepped on it.
Vladimir Mirvo, pulled a handkerchief from the front pocket of his black trousers and wiped his brow. An expression of irritation swept across his face. Why anyone would want to live in such a godforsaken place was beyond him. Here it was winter and he was sweating his ass off.
He straightened when he heard squealing tires turning into the otherwise empty parking lot of a building under construction. The other car pulled up beside his.
“Vlad?” the man called above the rumble of the engine.
He gave a brief nod and watched as the man turned the engine off and climbed out of the bright yellow Corvette convertible. The man looked just like he sounded on the phone. The old man climbed out of the car with an agility that belied his age.
Vlad waited as Carl Roland rounded his car. He looked with distaste at the man when he held out his hand. After a few seconds, Carl’s hand dropped to his side as if he’d never extended it.
Vlad studied the features of the man he’d hired to find the location of the person he was hunting. Carl had a bushy mustache, weighed barely over a hundred and twenty pounds dripping wet, and had to be in his early seventies. The man’s eyes were hidden by a pair of oversized, dark aviator sunglasses. Dressed in a tropical print shirt only partially buttoned, white shorts, and tan deck shoes, Carl looked every bit the part of the classic bookie.
“You know, you look very much like some Russian mafia goon,” Carl chuckled, his accent still laced with his New Jersey roots.
“Do you have the information I requested?” Vlad demanded, ignoring Carl’s cheerful reflection.
Carl pulled his sunglasses down a little and looked over the top of the rim. “I think the more pertinent question is do you have the money?” the old man countered. He pushed his sunglasses back into place on his nose while he waited for Vlad’s response.
Vlad turned and reached through the window of the rental car and pulled an envelope off the dash, then handed the bulging white rectangle to Carl. Carl opened the envelope and quickly counted the one hundred dollar bills before the older man grinned, nodded, and dropped the envelope onto the passenger seat of his car before he picked up a large manila folder and held it out.
“You’ll find everything you requested inside,” Carl said.
Vlad silently pulled out the contents out of the folder and thumbed through them. The assorted documents might look legitimate to an untrained eye, but Vlad knew they were phonies. However, there were several images of Trescina Bukov-Danshov included with the forged documents, as well as a location listed.
He slid the items back into the folder and tossed it through the window before pulling open the driver’s door to his car and sliding into the seat. He started the car, and glanced out of the window when Carl stepped back.
“It was nice doing business with you. If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to contact me,” Carl called.
Vlad punched the accelerator and drove away without answering. He reached into the console between the front seats, picked up his cell phone, and impatiently punched in a number.
“Location?” a woman’s voice requested in Russian.
“Wyoming. I need a one-way ticket and a rental car,” Vlad responded.
“When?” she asked.
“Today,” he answered.
“Please give me a moment,” she responded.
Vlad slowed as the traffic ahead of him came to a stop at a traffic light. His attention moved back to the folder. One of the images of Trescina had slipped out when he threw the folder onto the seat. He picked it up and studied the face of the woman who had her arm wrapped around a snow leopard. Most people would think the darker marks on her face were caused by the bad picture quality. He knew differently. They were there because of who and what she was.
The sound of a car honking behind him drew his attention back to the road. The cars in front of him were beginning to move. He placed the picture on top of the folder and accelerated.
The car behind him sped up to get beside him. The young man driving started to give him the finger until Vlad turned his head to look at him. The man’s eyes widened when he saw the scars along Vlad’s cheek. A cruel smile curved Vlad’s lips when the man accelerated and pulled away.
“This time, I have you,” he murmured to himself.
“Sir, I have a flight I can book for you at four o’clock this afternoon. Is that time good for you?” the woman came back on the line.
“Yes, that will suit me just fine,” he replied.
* * *
Trescina bit her lip as Heather backed out onto the highway and drive away. She watched the taillights of the car disappear before she turned back to the Suburban. A soft smile curved her lips when Trescina saw that she had left the driver’s door open. Cinnamon was patiently waiting for her, standing with her front paws in the driver’s seat and her head out the door. She walked back to the vehicle and gave Cinnamon a huge hug.
“I’m not sure what to do,” she groaned.
“I will tell you what you will do—you will never scare me the way you did when I realized what you were thinking,” Walkyr’s deep voice growled.
Trescina jumped and turned around. She lifted a hand to her pounding chest. Even her cat was taken by surprise, which seldom ever happened.
“Walkyr! You scared nine lives off of me,” she chastised in a breathless tone.
She warily watched as he strode out of the tree-line toward her. Spice trotted by his side. Cinnamon pushed past her and jumped out of the SUV. Trescina frowned when she saw that Spice was breathing heavily.
“What happened to Spice?” she demanded.
Walkyr drew to a stop in front of her. He placed his hands on each side of her, effectively caging her between his body and the car. She swallowed when she saw twin flames of gold burning in his eyes.
Strange, I don’t remember his eyes having that much gold in them, she silently thought.
“It was a long run from where you left us,” he commented.
Trescina swallowed. Her eyes flashed to Spice again, her concern that he’d seen her shape-shift dissipating at the sight of Spice’s heaving sides, then her gaze returned to Walkyr’s riveting face.
“I was hoping you’d…,” her voice died when he bent and pressed his lips to hers.
A soft moan escaped her and she ran her hands up his chest. She gripped his shoulders and parted her lips. He opened his mouth when she tentatively ran her tongue along his top lip.
His hands moved from the top of the SUV to her forearms, and quickly took over the kiss. She drew in several deep breaths when he lifted his head.
“That shouldn’t have happened,” she said, looking at his chest.
He gently lifted her chin. “Yes, it should. My cat recognizes you as his mate. While I tried to deny it at first, I have to agree with him. This is another gift from the Goddess, our ability to recognize
our mate the moment we meet,” he ruefully informed her.
Trescina felt her cat’s indignation at his words, and the knowledge of what had been happening clicked into place—her cat’s insistence that they run hadn’t been because she was afraid of Walkyr, she’d recognized Walkyr as her mate, and she had been afraid of what having a mate would mean.
I not admitting, her cat pouted.
You rotten little…! Argh! Now I understand how Heather feels when she’s dealing with Zeke, Trescina retorted.
“Trescina…. Trescina, you need not be afraid. I will not do anything to harm you… or frighten you. I have learned a thing or two from my brothers’ interactions with their mates,” he reassured her.
“This is not the time or the place,” she said with a shake of her head and looked away from him. “I don’t know for sure, but I think one of the guys you are looking for may have followed the tracks left by Zeke.”
* * *
Walkyr looked down the dark road that led to the two buildings he had noticed through the trees. He and Spice had already picked up on the other Sarafin’s tracks as well as scenting the traitor’s path to the building that housed the animals, but he had steered clear of the building when he saw the faint shimmer of light through the trees and noticed that Trescina’s transport was not out front.
He had breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her standing at the driver’s door hugging Cinnamon. His mind had replayed everything that had happened since he first saw Trescina as he ran through the woods. It was hard to believe that his first day with her hadn’t ended yet.
He remembered the first time he saw her standing in the doorway looking at him with a combination of fear and determination.
Holding knife, his cat reminded him.
Holding a knife in her hand, he chuckled.
He remembered the quiet brush of her breath tickling his ear as she threatened to kill him. Was that only this morning? he thought in disbelief. He couldn’t believe that so much had happened in one day.
Perhaps days longer here, his cat suggested.
He frowned and looked at Trescina. She was looking at him with an expectant expression. It took a moment for him to realize that he was still holding her. He released her and stepped back.
“How many hours are in this planet’s day?” he asked curiously.
She blinked at him in confusion. “Twenty-four. Why?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I feel like I have known you much longer,” he said before turning his attention back to the long driveway. “I will take care of the other traitor. This time, stay here and lock yourself in your transport.” His stern voice surprised her a bit.
Trescina raised an eyebrow at his tone. “I’m not helpless and I’m not too stupid to live. I won’t stay in the Suburban like a good little girl. Take the tigers with you. I’ll find a secure place and keep a look-out in case anyone else comes,” she said.
Walkyr frowned down at her. “The other man died during the avalanche. I found his ashes mixed in with the snow near their ship,” he said.
“That’s fine, but I seem to remember there are two more that you still haven’t located,” she reminded him.
He gave her a sharp-toothed grin. “I haven’t forgotten. I found no other tracks. I have a plan to draw them out,” he said with a mysterious smirk. “Stay hidden. If I am distracted by worrying about you, I could make a mistake.”
She pursed her lips before she reluctantly nodded. Walkyr loved the heated protest in her eyes. Excitement built in him when he thought of the future. If this was what his brothers felt, he could understand why they loved waking every day in their mate’s arms and acted like wet cats when they were torn away.
“I’ll be back,” he promised, leaning forward to brush a kiss against her lips. She softly chuckled at his words. “What is it?”
“I have an alien telling me that ‘I’ll be back’,” she replied with a shake of her head. “You wouldn’t understand.”
A puzzled expression crossed his features before he turned away from her. He motioned for the two tigers to follow him. He considered several different scenarios for how the tigers could distract the traitor that had survived the avalanche—without putting either of them in danger. He was surprised when a different image appeared in his head—an image of a sleek black tiger with beautiful blue-black stripes that matched the spots on his own coat.
As quickly as the image appeared, it vanished. If he’d had more time, he would have tried to learn where the Siberian tigers had seen such an unusual tiger before. His cat purred, confusing him even more.
Shape-shift, he commanded, pushing away the distracting thoughts that could get them killed.
Only one dying is traitor, his cat vowed with deadly intent as one by one, he and the two tigers slipped through the side door that was already open.
16
Trescina paced back and forth along the road. She was torn about what to do. Should she run or stay? She knew nothing about the mating of her species. Obviously her cat knew just enough to keep her in the dark.
Thanks a fat lot for that! I swear this has to be the longest day of my life, she silently groaned.
She had just turned around when she saw the headlights of an approaching truck. A silent expletive, that would have gotten her mouth washed out with soap as a child flashed through her mind when she saw the truck slowing down. Surprise filled her when the lights suddenly went out as the truck skidded to a stop a short distance from the Suburban.
“What?! Mason…. Chad…. What are you two…?” her voice faded when she saw them exit the truck carrying hunting rifles. She lifted her hands and started toward them as a sense of fear engulfed her. “What are you doing?”
“Are you alright, Trescina?” Chad demanded, his gaze sweeping the area.
“Yes…,” once again her voice faded and she silently groaned.
Heather must have told the men. The way they were looking around spoke volumes. She was about to make up a story when the back doors of the truck opened and two other men stepped out. The weapons in their hands were different—so was the way they were dressed.
She warily watched as the four men walked closer to her. The last two men who had exited each took up a position on each side of her. Her hand went to her stomach when her cat hissed and clawed at her as they lean closer and sniffed at her. Out of instinct, she shoved at the one closest to her and hissed.
“Cat’s balls, what is a Sarafin female doing here?” the man that she had shoved exclaimed.
“She smells like Walkyr,” the other man stated.
She scooted toward Mason and Chad. “Who are these clowns?” she demanded.
Mason grimaced and nodded. “The one you shoved is Qadir. The other one is Pallu. I think I got that right,” he introduced.
“Where is Walkyr?” Qadir questioned.
The one named Pallu grinned. “I’d like to know why she smells like him,” he said.
“I smell like him because I was holding a knife to his throat this morning,” she snapped. “Who are you?”
Chad walked over to her and placed his hand on her arm. “They are Walkyr’s brothers. At least that is what they say,” he added with an uneasy look at the two men.
Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Walkyr said there were two other men from the traitors’ ship,” she countered.
“And when did he tell you that? Before or after you held a knife to his throat? Or was it when you were draped over him?” Qadir sarcastically asked.
“F… you,” Trescina growled.
Pallu’s eyes lit up. “I know what that means. Pearl says it means…,” he started to say.
“I know what it means too,” Qadir snapped. “I want to know where Walkyr is.”
Trescina swallowed. She had heard Walkyr mention Pearl’s name. The bad guys wouldn’t know who she was, or if they did, they wouldn’t mention her with humor the way Pallu did. The more she studied the two men, the more she could see a family resemblance to Wa
lkyr in their eyes, nose, mouth, and chin.
“He went to the rescue center. We found tracks leading from a spaceship that Walkyr said belonged to the traitors. Someone was following the tracks Zeke left behind. Walkyr said that it was one of the traitors. One man was already killed and he didn’t know where the other two had disappeared to. He said he had a plan to draw them out,” she quietly explained, pointing down the driveway before she wrapped her arms around her waist.
All four men looked in the direction she had pointed before silently looking at each other.
“Heather’s house is behind main building. There is an entrance in the front, one on the side, and a large receiving door in the back,” Chad explained to the men.
“Stay here. It is best if we deal with this, if Walkyr hasn’t taken care of the traitor already,” Qadir ordered.
“Wait!” Trescina looked at the two men. “There… My tigers are with Walkyr. Don’t hurt them. They are white Siberians—a male and a female. The male is named Spice and the female is Cinnamon,” she pleaded.
Pallu smiled in understanding. “We’ll send them back to you. Qadir and I can save Walkyr’s butt. We’ve done it plenty of times before,” he teased.
“Thank you,” she said.
She watched as the two men shape-shifted and took off down the long winding driveway. Only when they had disappeared from sight did she turn to look at Chad and Mason who were still scanning the area with wary eyes, their rifles at the ready.
She tilted her head to the side and stared at Chad with an accusing expression. Chad grimaced, looked away from her, and remained silent. Mason saw her look and shrugged. He stepped closer to her before he quietly spoke.
“It’s a long story, but Paul lives in outer space on a planet called Valdier with his wife, Morian, and his daughter, Trisha, and her family. The aliens like to use the ranch as their personal base on Earth. Of course, we don’t advertise it for obvious reasons. We’d deeply appreciate it if you’d keep this information to yourself,” Mason explained with an almost apologetic expression.