by Elsa Jade
He put his hand on her shoulder, turning her to face him. “Lun-mei, how can you do this?”
She scowled at him. “I’m fully trained too, as a doctor of veterinary medicine licensed in the states of California and Montana—”
His grip tightened, holding her fast. “I mean how can you accept this? The yurk?” His voice cracked. “Me?”
She looked up at him, big, strong, soft in a way she’d never allowed herself. “We’re all strangers and weirdoes and aliens in some way, Mach. I guess knowing you’re here makes me feel…less alone.”
He stood staring down at her for so long her cheeks heated and she looked away.
“I mean, obviously I’m not alone because our donuts are being hunted by an alien dragon and one of this world’s most manipulatively evil assholes, which is really saying something, so—”
Mach pulled her up against his chest, ignoring her rifle smashed between them, and crashed his mouth down on hers.
Maybe she’d never been in a crashing spaceship, but she guessed it might feel something like this: hot, desperate, her heart racing at terminal velocity.
Also, Mach had gotten really good at kissing while he’d been asleep. He slanted his mouth over hers at the perfect angle for maximum friction and glide, and the pressure was just…mmm. Then he huffed out a shaky breath flavored with chocolate frosting that filled her mind like a balloon—so primitive compared to a spaceship, light and floating and nowhere near the control. She clung to him tighter than any kid with a balloon, afraid to let go, knowing he’d be gone if she did…
When he lifted his head—not far at all considering how tall he was, as if he didn’t want to leave her—she stared up at him. “I could’ve shot you.”
His lips, a little swollen, quirked. “I thought I was unbelievably amazing.”
“Does that stop bullets?”
“Depends on your aim.”
She’d never aimed for any of this. How could she have when she hadn’t known it was an option? And now, she had to decide what she was aiming for next.
She kinda thought she might be shooting for the stars.
A clank from across the yard—very definitely something out there this time—made them both straighten. But then the autumn silence settled again.
“She doesn’t want the donuts,” Lun-mei murmured. “She wants you.”
“I am tasty.”
She huffed. “Some baby animals are self-sufficient at birth, but you said she still needs care and guidance. Of course she’d go looking for you if she woke up and couldn’t find you.”
He nodded. “I’m her Alpha. I haven’t been very good at it, and I thought maybe here it wouldn’t matter.” He stared out at the seemingly empty darkness. “It’s been a century, but I have another chance.” When he swiveled to look at her, his silvery eyes gleamed. “May I have another chance with you?”
What could she say to that? “Go get your little girl, Mach.”
He kissed her again, fast and light and as dangerously hot as hydrogen, and then he slipped out into the yard.
Under the single remaining light, with all the darkness of Big Sky Country behind him, for the first time he looked small to her, vulnerable.
She swallowed hard. The rifle in her hands suddenly seemed small too, compared to the threat she knew was out there. Would the Earth-calibrated drugs even work? She didn’t know the physiology and chemistry of the yurk, and from what she understood, the metabolic rate would be through the roof.
Another clank from near the far rail of the paddock fence captured her straining attention. Speaking of through the roof…
A sinuous shadow moved in the deeper darkness. And though just a moment ago she’d thought Mach looked small, now she knew he was small. Compared to the yurk.
The beast flowed out of the night like she’d been born from it. In Lun-mei’s still semi-dreamy/nightmare-y memories, the hatchling had been the size of a pony, very clearly reptilian-esque with avian overtones, but also with the instinctive appeal of a neonate: a bit stocky, round bellied, big eyed. Now…
With her lean, triangular head held on high alert, she was almost as tall as the yard light. She crouched lithely on her hind legs, one foreleg barely touching the ground and her wings half-spread as she surveyed the scene. The bat-like wings were rimmed along the leading edge with something like feathers, but they glinted sharply in the harsh halogen glare, and when she tilted her head, the ruby highlights on her scales glinted with blood and flame. The delicate balance of such a monstrous frame reinforced the appearance of grace—and instant lethalness should she decide to attack. Even to Lun-mei’s wondering eyes, the yurk was clearly and unequivocally a beast of war.
Until the hatchling lowered her belly to the ground, dropped her head toward Mach, and let out a plaintive whistle. She hop-crawled a single step—and still covered a quarter of the yard—swiveling her snaky neck to reach for him.
The breath caught in Lun-mei’s throat as he stepped forward. At this size, the baby’s teeth wouldn’t just pierce his shoulder—they’d go right through him.
He raised his hand. The yurk lifted her head…
And butted his knuckles. She chirruped again, sidling closer with the same body language of a big dog that just knew it could be a lap dog, given the chance. Mach’s voice—soothing and low—reached Lun-mei, calming her too. The yurk whistled back, nuzzling into his armpit. He turned to reach for the donuts, his gaze arrowed across the yard to Lun-mei. His smile was brighter than the halogen and the yurk’s bioluminescing scales put together.
She returned the smile, so thankful she wouldn’t have to shoot—
The echoing boom of a shotgun made them both whirl toward the muzzle flash at the far end of the yard from the barn.
The yurk wailed, flinching toward Mach with her wings tightly furled. He raised one arm, as if he could tuck her safely away.
But of course she was much too big. Instead of cuddling, he slapped her haunch. “Go!”
He pointed at Lun-mei too, and she knew he was yelling at her as much as the yurk.
She’d never really listened to people ordering her around.
Quickly shifting to the other side of the barn, she scanned the trees past the paddock. Multiple voices were screaming “dinosaur!” and “fuck!”—really helpful in identifying their location. But it also meant Cross had his henchgoons with him.
She grimaced. They’d trespassed with bad intent, no doubt, but they probably thought they were fighting off an alien invasion. And…yeah, they kind of were.
But she had to make a choice. And she knew what it would be.
Mach was striding across the yard toward where the flash of light had come from, every step eating up the hard-packed earth. “Damn it, Cross—”
Another shotgun blast spun him around, and she choked on a scream of her own.
He didn’t go down. Even across the distance, the silvery sparks on his skin, like stars, dazzled her, and then he was racing toward the gunshots.
“Mach!” She ran out of the barn.
And straight into the yurk.
One leathery wing enveloped her, head to boot, clamping the rifle to her side. The aroma of the beast… The same as the blanket Mach had wrapped around her, a scent that seemed like lightning, something from high above, because it wasn’t from Earth.
She stared up at the yurk’s shining faceted eyes. Yeah, the teeth were every bit as big as she’d imagined.
The yurk dipped her head…and through her wing, she nuzzled Lun-mei’s hip. The pocket where she’d put the diamonds.
Donuts and diamonds. A girl’s best friends, really, however far from home she found herself.
When Lun-mei wiggled her hand down against the clamp of the wing membrane, the feathery upper edge cut against the side of her neck, but she managed to palm the diamonds. Life as she knew it was carbon-based; nanotech used carbon for self-replicating; the yurk’s nanites were immature; diamonds were one of the purest forms of carbon on Earth. Mach
had obviously gotten the diamonds for the yurk.
She couldn’t believe this all made sense to her. Yay for those organic chem tests.
The tight hug of leather eased, and the yurk snaked out her tongue to lick Lun-mei’s neck. Ugh, good thing she’d had all her shots—Lun-mei, not the yurk.
Forcing her hand up to her chin, Lun-mei angled her palm under the searching tongue. A whuffle of hot breath made her close her eyes, sure she was about to get munched.
But the yurk slurped down the diamonds and spread her wings.
Stumbling free, Lun-mei just stared as tiny sparks of silver flared along the ruby-scalloped scales. But her gaze caught on the scattering of buckshot holes in the beast’s flank. The yurk whirled toward the yard again, toward Mach.
“Wait,” Lun-mei blurted, even though she knew the beast couldn’t understand. Even if the yurk was sentient and intelligent, it wasn’t like she’d speak English.
Except she stopped and craned her neck to glare at Lun-mei. And it was very definitely a glare. She dipped her shoulder, letting her wing drop.
We ride them into battle.
Gripping the rifle, Lun-mei ran toward the alien dragon.
Chapter 13
Mach gritted his teeth against the sleeting agony of the gunshot. As with unenhanced organisms, pain was a good training tool and warning sign, so shrouds got to keep their pain receptors even if they weren’t allowed to let pain stop them. That had always seemed unnecessarily cruel to him.
But that meant they kept their pleasure centers too.
Lun-mei. She was somewhere behind him. He’d keep her safe. He didn’t need any compulsory encoding to tell him that. It was burned in his heart as his one directive.
Another shot winged past him, missing by a country mile. They’d gotten lucky the first time, or they were panicking now. Either way, he’d stop them.
At least long enough for Lun-mei and the yurk to get away, for Delta to find them and take his place protecting them as Alpha. If his final mission programming had been truly activated, nothing would be able to stop him from razing this whole county.
And he wouldn’t be able to love either.
He’d imprinted on Lun-mei, but she didn’t need a puppy. She needed a man who would let her feel not alone, who would make sure she ate something besides donuts and drank something besides coffee, because she wasn’t some engineered killer to live on nothing.
But neither was he anymore.
With only his baseline programming operational, his parameters and abilities weren’t much beyond standard Earther normal. Like any real animal, he had only his own experiences and practiced skill sets to rely on. Without the key to activate his advanced programming, he’d only ever be…
Himself.
And considering that had won him a place in Lun-mei’s bed, perhaps he could finally admit that was enough.
He would never be a fully activated shroud, with all the death and destruction that entailed, but he was a Montana rancher whose land and stock were threatened, who’d worked long and hard in his adopted homeland and whose way of life was now under attack by a tyrannically petty little man who knew nothing of the universe or the wonders therein.
Charging onward, he took another round in the shoulder—he was too close even for them to miss, and too incensed to vary his headlong rush. It was the same shoulder the hatchling had bitten, and his nanites complained at his carelessness. May I suggest your angles be many and varied, or so Lun-mei had told him. If she yelled at him again, he’d deserve it.
Two of them had bunched together carelessly. With one punch, he knocked one into the other. They both went down, the one unmoving, and the one behind flailing as he tried to scramble away, not bothering to reach for his dropped rifle.
“Stay down,” Mack growled. “Or you’re next.”
He swiveled to track Cross. Who for all his bluster was a predator himself. While Mach was dealing with Cross’s Deltas, the Earther Alpha had circled around behind him, blocking his way back to his own ranch.
The racking of the shotgun was close enough to give him pause. His nanites would survive even such a close blast, of course, but there was a not zero chance they’d be reanimating his corpse.
He’d lived through this land’s Wild West, so he knew the drill. Putting his hands in the air, he pivoted slowly to face Cross.
The Earther male’s usual florid complexion had drained to only two spots of ruddy color in his blanched face. All his inborn swagger and the alcohol-induced bloviation that had animated him at the brewery were gone. His eyes were widened with shock, but his hands on his gun were steady. He’d obviously had some training of his own, and some natural inclination too, which he confirmed, when he blurted out, “I shot you,” in an incredulous voice. “Twice.”
Mach grimaced. At least he knew exactly who to blame for the potholes in his skin. “If you think I’m going to sell you this ranch after you shot me—twice—you are even worse at negotiating than you are at aiming.”
Cross lifted the rifle sight to his eye. “Third time’s the charm. And everybody knows your brother won’t be able to hold it together without you.”
The assessment stung Mach more painfully than the shotgun pellets. Had he crippled Delta, keeping them both from doing the most they could on their new world? “He won’t sell out either.”
Cross sneered. “I know you’re trying to steal my hunting ranch plans. We saw that mutant thing in the barn. Who are you working with to bring in game? If my backer thinks he can do an end-run with you—”
Mach lifted one finger, clearing his throat. “Ah, I actually do have a backer. About that end-run…”
“Dinosaur!” croaked Cross’s still-conscious Delta before curling into a little ball of quivering terror.
Cross spun around, holding the shotgun level. But the yurk wasn’t right behind him—she wouldn’t make that mistake.
Only a day old, really, so her attack lacked all refinement, but maybe nuance wasn’t important when a ton of angry alien dragon was falling from the sky.
More pouncing than flying, she aimed her hind claws at Cross, and for a heartbeat, it looked as though she was trying to perch delicately on the raised gun. He had half a second to scream, and then she landed on him, flattening him into the dirt of the yard.
And astride her lean back was Lun-mei.
She’d lost her hat at some point, and her silky hair was a wild black corona, backlit by the blazing white halogen. Clutching her rifle with one hand, the other flattened across the yurk’s shoulder for balance, she whooped victoriously.
Mach swore even his nanites were shocked.
Cross groaned, barely audible under the yurk’s belly. She nestled down lower, squashing the sound, the stock of the shotgun bending under her claws.
Slinging her leg over the yurk’s bowed neck, Lun-mei slid down to the ground. Her boots landed in a puff of dust, and her smile could’ve lit the whole yard.
It lit something in Mach.
He strode toward her and whirled her away from Cross and the yurk. “Are you out of your mind?” he demanded.
“Out of this world!” She braced her hands on his shoulders, much as she’d done with her yurk mount, and leaned back in his arms, laughing.
Unable to stop himself, her joy like a command he was helpless to resist, he kissed her, swinging her in a tight circle that brought them up against the yurk’s haunch. The big beast swiveled her head to gaze at them, the scarlet facets of her eyes winking.
Slowly, he let Lun-mei slide down to her own two feet. “No,” he murmured. “It’s very much this world. With you.”
***
With Delta’s help, they moved the three men to the barn, leaving them tied in the sandy arena dirt where Mach had first brought Lun-mei to see the egg.
Kneeling in the muck, Cross glowered at them, his fine fur hat crushed but his attitude mostly unadjusted. That his two Deltas were much more subdued only seemed to incense him more. “Cowards,” he hissed
. “If you’d kept shooting—”
“You can’t go around shooting things,” Lun-mei snapped. “Not without a license, not on private land. You’ll go down hard for poaching and you’ve got no chance now of pushing through a game reserve.”
Cross spat a curse at her, and she only smirked, but Mach hauled her back while Delta kept watch.
Before he could explain the problem with formally accusing Cross, she sighed. “We can’t tell anybody what happened,” she said. “You and Delta and the yurk would be in more danger than Cross and his cronies.”
He nodded, watching her. “You should leave while we finish things.”
She scowled at him, almost as furiously as she’d looked at Cross. “You can’t kill him.”
Well, the direct command from her just put a hitch in that idea, not that he’d planned anything so drastic—and potentially traceable back to his ranch. “I have just enough of the memory wipe compound to reset the clock with Cross. He won’t remember tonight.”
She lifted her chin. “Because that memory wiping thing worked so great on me.”
He winced. “That was my fault. I didn’t give you enough false memories to replace what happened.” He met her dubious gaze. “I didn’t really want you to forget me.”
After a moment, her expression softened. “Good. But we need Cross out of the way.” Her dark eyes narrowed. “I have midazolam in my bag along with the other tranqs. It’s used in human anesthesia too and causes memory loss. With your wipe, that should be enough.”
He straightened. “No. I won’t let you take that risk. If anyone finds out somehow, you’d lose everything.”
“Cross is an ugly blight, and he didn’t just shoot at the yurk, he wanted to kill you.” She stared up at him, and as small as she was, he’d rather face a hungry flight of wild yurks than the vengeance he saw burning in her gaze when she poked her finger through one of the bullet holes in his shirt. “If you weren’t an alien, you’d be dead. And I would’ve lost everything right then.”