A Seacat's Love (Oceanan Trilogy Book 1)

by Kong, Jessica

  Lance sliced the air in front of him with his hand. “Forget all that for a second, will you?”

  Rick’s eyes narrowed. This was definitely not good. Lance never has a problem with expressing his thoughts. Hell, his problem was keeping his opinions to himself. “Why?”

  “Listen…” Lance paused in the middle of the hallway. He smoothed back his short, wavy brown hair and said, “What would you say if I were to tell you that life does exist out there, and it’s not like anything Hollywood has portrayed?”

  If Lance had planned to shock Rick, he failed. Unable to suppress the yawn that had been building inside, Rick opened his mouth wide, behind his forefinger and thumb knuckles. “I would say, ‘Good night, I’ll see you on Monday.’” He turned to head back the way they had came in. He was not expecting Lance to snatch a hold of his arm.

  Lance placed his face to an inch from Rick’s and whispered, “I’m serious.”

  Rick yanked his arm free but kept his face close to his boss’s. “So am I.”

  “Rick, listen to me.” Lance moved away, but kept his voice low. “Please.”

  Being the loyal friend that he was, Rick resigned to listening. “Okay. Go ahead.”

  “I’ve asked you here tonight, because something of immense importance has come up. And you’re the only person I can trust.”

  “Go on.”

  Lance quickly scanned both ends of the corridor before continuing in a hushed tone. “Two and a half months ago, we received a report of extraterrestrials in the vicinity of—”

  “You’re kidding me, right?” Rick crossed his arms.

  Undaunted, Lance proceeded. “Naturally, we didn’t believe it at first. But we simply couldn’t resist the temptation of investigating for ourselves.”

  “Your contact was that convincing?”

  “They certainly were.”

  They? Hmmm. “Well, I’m not convinced that easily."

  “You will be.”

  “How’s that?” Rick’s voice cracked with laughter.

  “We—”

  All talking stopped. The men listened in earnest to the commotion taking place around the nearest corner. Sharing a brief look, they decided to investigate. When they reached the corner, a blur of dark hair crashed into Rick’s chest.

  The impact propelled the stranger backward. Rick responded with quick reflexes. He tried to stop the person’s progression downward, but thrown off balance from the unexpected collision, he only succeeded on landing on the smaller frame. The curvaceous form underneath him instantly alerted his senses, but the strong scent of body odor kept him from responding in his usual, healthy manner.

  His face screwed up. Rick removed his nose from dark, sticky strands. His breath snagged at the sight of the palest blue eyes he had ever seen. “Bloody hell.” He shot to his feet and brought his assailant with him. His heart banged in his chest. All curves vanished from his head as Rick took his first good look at the woman.

  She was petite in height. Underneath all the dirt, bruises, and dried blood, her skin tone was a sickly yellow. Her face was oval in shape with thin eyebrows that slightly sloped downward in the center. She had a slim nose with a tiny tilt at the tip and pouty lips. Her dark hair hung in greasy strands to the middle of her back. Rick’s eyes opened wider when he noticed she had pointy earlobes.

  Then all coherent thoughts halted when Rick spotted those eerie eyes, traveling over him. It was the second time he had felt like the prey instead of the predator. Memories of the first time filtered through his thoughts.

  His father, Charles, had known the pain of losing his wife for being a British spy. Rick had held his mother in his small arms while she died. Charles then lost his life, holding back the enemy, while six-year-old Rick ran through a thicket of trees, carrying his baby sister, to his godfather’s home nearby. To silence the boy, the killers had followed. Rick had stared into the barrel of a gun before he and his sibling were critically injured, his godfather killed.

  “Move and I’ll kill you.”

  Lance’s words brought Rick out of his past. He blinked to clear his vision and saw Lance had his gun aimed at the woman’s heart. “Control, what the bloody hell is going on here?”

  Lance pointed to the woman with his chin. “She’s the reason I brought you here tonight.” His gun never faltered.

  Rick noticed how the woman brazenly inspected him underneath the dim lights. The black silk shirt and slacks he wore felt like they were shrinking under her scrutiny. “What do you mean? Who is she? Why is she painted like a lioness?”

  Lance twisted his lips. “She’s not wearing makeup, Predator. She’s an alien,” he replied, in a condescending tone.

  “What!?”

  “An alien. Remember our little conversation just a moment ago?” Lance pointed with his gun. “Well, this is what I was talking about.”

  “I can’t believe it.” Rick passed a hand over his face. “I’m seeing it, but I can’t believe it.” His soft-spoken words placed a scowl on the lioness’s face.

  “I am not an it!” she corrected before taking a step toward Rick. “And you have to help me.”

  Rick raised his right eyebrow at her. “I have to do what?”

  “You have to help me. They are trying to kill me.”

  The pacey sound of boots on steel reached his ears. With a quick look over her head, Rick spotted the approaching soldiers. A warning bell gonged in his head. That impending doom was now clear.

  “Please, they already killed two of my friends. They are going to kill me next. You are my only hope. Please help me.” The fear in her pale eyes was too profound for the situation to be a sham.

  “What is she talking about?” Rick asked Lance, who was staring at the woman.

  Lance seemed not to have heard him. Instead, he thoughtfully said aloud, “She must’ve escaped the scientists.”

  “Scientists?” Rick’s heart increased in tempo. “What scientists?”

  “The ones experimenting on us!” blurted the woman before the guards rudely yanked her from where she stood.

  The two soldiers grabbed her forearms and forced her to walk in the direction they wanted to go. After taking several steps, the lioness dug in her heels, freed her right arm, and struck the shorter man in the face with the heel of her palm. She then quickly elbowed the second man in the stomach, grabbed his head when he doubled over, and rammed her knee into his face.

  “Wow,” whispered Rick, in awe by her willingness to fight.

  His gaze lowered to the floor, as thoughts of Mary entered his head. Mary had no desire to learn self-defense. Her excuses were endless. At the time, Rick gave in and stopped his badgering to make her happy. He now regretted doing so. If she had known how to fight, perhaps her chances at survival could have been greater. His soul, then, would not have been so lonely.

  A sharp yelp brought his attention back. One of the soldiers had grabbed the woman from behind. He had her lifted high in the air in a viselike grip around the waist. The woman struggled to free herself.

  “You don’t have to be so rough,” spoke Rick over the commotion. “Let her down!”

  The soldier ignored him. The woman cried out in frustration and fear.

  “Stay out of this,” ordered the second soldier.

  Rick watched the woman’s struggle increase. The feeling of urgency grew quickly in him. His instincts to help a being in need took control. He rushed forward and immediately dislodged the woman from the soldier’s grasp.

  The soldiers were not pleased with the interference. They changed their target and attacked Rick. Rick had no plans to fight the men. They were simply obeying orders. However, after being shoved and punched in the face for his well intentions, Rick’s anger got the best of him.

  “Predator, stay back!” Lance returned his gun into his shoulder holster, so he could grab his friend from behind with the aid of several soldiers who had just arrived at the scene.

  Rick escaped his human restraints and immediately punched o
ne of the men in the nose. The satisfying crunch beneath his knuckles made him smile. He heard a woman’s cry, and his smile vanished.

  Spinning on his heels, Rick saw the feline make a slashing motion across a soldier’s stomach. The man cried out, reached for his abdomen, and fell. Blood poured from the open gashes. Rick did not recall the woman having a knife. His gaze whipped to her hands. His muscles tensed. Her nails were extended to razor sharp claws.

  Lance paused at Rick’s side. Together, they watched the woman fend off several more soldiers. They could tell she was trained in combat, even though her aim was off and her execution slow. The few contacts she did manage to make with her claws were fatal. One soldier had his throat slashed, another his chest shredded.

  As the fourth man fell from having his face sliced, her attention landed on Rick. Her pale blue eyes were aglow. Rick caught his breath, and his stomach clenched tighter. Those eerie eyes inched toward him, but Rick could not move away.

  Lance swiftly placed his frame in front of Rick. “Stay away from him!” His gun was aimed and ready before he finished his order.

  The woman stopped, but her eyes remained locked with Rick’s. {Please, do not fear me.}

  Rick gasped. Her voice sounded clearly in his head, yet her lips did not move.

  {We meant your race no harm.}

  Lance glanced Rick’s way. “What is it?”

  {You have to believe me. They are poisoning us. Help me.}

  Rick stared at the woman, unsure of what to think. Did she just speak to him telepathically? “Did you hear what she said?”

  “She didn’t say anything,” replied Lance.

  More soldiers arrived. The woman was quick to fight them. Her mental pleas for help continued between kicks and punches. Rick went around Lance, intending to help her.

  Lance, once again, placed himself between Rick and the guards. “Predator, no!”

  “We can’t let them hurt her.” Rick pushed forward.

  “Think of your career.” Lance held him back. “You’ll lose everything.”

  With Rick out of the picture, the soldiers were able to overpower the small alien. She was dragged unceremoniously kicking and screaming down the corridors.

  “Predator! PREDATOR!”

  Rick felt helpless. What could he do? What should he do? Mary’s tearful face floated into his thoughts.

  He had arrived home from a covert assignment overseas. Mary had been seven months pregnant and in the mood for pizza. While Rick waited for his order, his cell phone vibrated on his belt. The hairs at his nape stood on end at the sound of a breathless Mary in tears. The cause of her distress suggested the Predator make an appearance before his darling, little wife paid for his actions. The intruder’s voice was unrecognizable.

  Rick nearly dropped the phone as he dashed to his car. Racing down the highway, he called his boss, only to discover the stranger had also contacted him. The Shadow Team was already on the way to Rick’s suburban home. In the end, the enemy had paid for their daring, but so had the Predator.

  Rick was unable to help his wife. He had failed her. He could not fail again. Only one problem stood in his way: this woman was not human. What could he do to help someone who was not from this planet? He could think of no answer, but he knew of someone who always had answers.

  Rick faced Lance. “You brought me here because of her. Why? Did you know this was happening? You are the one with the clout. Why didn’t you do something? Why aren’t you doing something now? If what she said is true, you should be the one helping her.”

  Lance clenched and unclenched his jaw. He looked down at the dead soldiers. “I never should’ve brought you here.”

  It was not what Rick wanted to hear. He grew angrier with his friend. Since when had Lance started turning his back on those in need?

  Rick inched his face closer to Lance, drawing his attention, and snarled, “You better start talking, and you bloody hell better start now.”

  “Predator,” Lance paused. “I was wrong to involve you. I think it’s best if we forget what happened here tonight.”

  “Really?” Rick moved forward, forcing Lance to step back. “I think not.”

  “Rick, listen to me. What she said was nonsense. You know that. She obviously wanted to escape. We can’t let her roam around the streets. She’s an alien. Can you imagine the sort of panic she will create among the public? God knows what sort of diseases she’s carrying. You yourself saw what she’s capable of doing when confronted.” Blue eyes pleaded with blue. “I say, let’s forget the whole thing ever happened and go home. We can both use a good night’s rest.”

  Rick’s mind raced as he tried to grasp at some semblance of logic. He inched closer to Lance and hissed, “You started this. You were the one who dragged me here in the dead of night. You were the one gung ho on getting me to believe aliens existed. Well…now I believe. Tell me, what the bloody hell is going on here!”

  Lance was not talking fast enough for Rick. What he wanted was to go after the girl—cat. He was still unsure which she was. However, years of experience, plus the aggressive guards, spoke of something other than royal treatment awaited her. She was in trouble. He was sure of that—as sure as he was about Lance Blaisdale knowing more than what he was willing to say.

  “I can’t.”

  “What?” Rick placed his right ear closer to his boss’s mouth. “Did I hear correctly?”

  “I wasn’t supposed to talk about it. If my superiors found out, my career will be over.”

  “What are they planning to do to her?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Liar!” Rick shoved Lance against the nearest wall. He held Lance pinned with his left forearm across Lance’s shoulder and neck. With a menacing glare that had made the toughest of men shiver, he snarled, “I’m not a fool, Blaisdale. I know you’re never in the dark about anything. You’re always well informed. You were up to something by bringing me here, so talk!”

  “Rick—” coughed Lance.

  “Stop toying with me! I’m not in the mood, damn it! I want to know what the bloody hell the government intends to do with her! Is what she said true? Are her friends dead? What part do you have in all this?”

  The sound of guns being cocked interrupted them. Rick turned his head. Lance could only turn his eyes. The sight of the eight MPs caused Rick and Lance to tense. Apparently, they had returned to retrieve the four dead soldiers the lioness had managed to kill.

  “Step back,” ordered one of the officers.

  Rick’s expression turned savage. He secretly delighted in the sight of the soldier’s Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

  “I said, step back,” repeated the man.

  “You’re quite demanding for a pup,” sneered Rick. The young man’s face turned red under his glare.

  The soldier cleared his throat and forced his voice to sound authoritative. “I am Lieutenant McLean, not a pup. I’m ordering you to release that man.”

  “I take no orders from a puppy.”

  The young man stood straighter. “I am not a child, sir. I’m a lieutenant in the US Army. Now back away.”

  “It’s okay. This man works for me,” squeaked Lance. His eyes returned to Rick. “You should go home.”

  “Not until this is settled.”

  “There’s nothing to be settled here,” Lance said with finality. “Gentlemen, please escort Mr. McCall to the gates.”

  “I’m not leaving.”

  “Good night, McCall. I will see you on Monday.”

  “Lance.” That one word held a great deal of warning.

  “Good night.”

  Lance’s “good night” held such finality that Rick knew all to well it would do no good to argue. A growl formed deep in his throat. He released Lance and was escorted to the front gates at gunpoint.

  Before dawn’s first light the following day, Rick’s dark form materialized from behind a bush. He blended in with the evening’s inky chilliness as he scurried forward. He easily
created a hole in the silver-steel web that encased the isolated complex with heavy-duty cutting pliers. Rick squeezed his frame through the jagged, makeshift entrance. His focus never faltered when his black shirt and slacks snagged on the fence.

  In a crouch position, Rick raced to the building he had visited the night before. He paused by the dimly lit doorway. Several gloved fingers dove into his shirt pocket in search of a lock pick. With his sharp sights on the small keyhole, Rick tested the doorknob. It turned smoothly.

  His forehead creased underneath his mask. I thought this building was top secret. Who could’ve carelessly left this door unlocked?

  Rick placed his ear against the cold metal and listened for signs of life. When he deemed it was safe, he swiftly entered the building and shut the door. He glanced at his watch. It was five o’clock in the morning. Without further delay, his strides soon matched the rapid beating of his heart.

  Like a smoky shadow moving across gray walls, Rick easily bypassed all manned security checkpoints. With a phantom’s grace, he floated over the infrared beams, glided around all the motion detectors, sailed past the booby traps, and instantly vanished whenever a security camera turned in his direction. So far, no one knew he was there.

  Nearing an elevator with the words “off limits” impressed across it in yellow and black, he thought for the umpteenth time, What if she was already dead? As before, Rick would not dwell upon it. The thought of being too late to aid another woman did not sit well with him.

  Rick used the short descent in the elevator to make sure his weaponry were all loaded and within easy access. He felt certain, as long as the alarms were not set off, the hardest part would be finding the laboratory. According to his calculations, he had one hour to find the lab, grab the girl, run back to his car, and hightail it out of there before sunrise. If all went according to plan, she will have disappeared before anyone figured out she was gone.

  Taking a deep breath, Rick stretched his neck and flexed his hands. He then reached for the six-shot tranquilizer rifle he carried on his back. Though he was no stranger to killing, he had no desire to kill his own people over an alien. Besides, the she-cat might have exaggerated. Some women, when under stress, were known to blow things out of proportion.