by S. E. Smith
Adalard shook his head. “I am a Curizan. We do not shift into dragons,” he answered.
Mason stared at him in silence for a minute before he spoke. “If you are different from Trisha’s guy, then what do you change into?”
Adalard debated on whether to share the differences between the Curizan and the Valdier with the human. Mason moved in his seat as he waited for Adalard to respond. The man’s aura was strong. Adalard did not detect any hostility or darkness surrounding Mason. He did detect pain, though.
“What have you learned about us?” he asked.
Mason chuckled. “In other words, you don’t want to divulge any information until you know what we know.”
Adalard bowed his head in acknowledgement. “Yes.”
Mason silently studied him. “How do I know you are one of the good aliens? You can’t blame me for having some reservations. You mentioned Paul and Trisha, but I need something a little more substantial to go on,” he said.
“The fact that you aren’t dead should speak for itself. I could kill you before you draw the laser pistol your mate handed you when she kissed you.”
Adalard ignored Mason’s surprised expression and continued. “Paul has found his mate with Morian Reykill, Priestess to the golden symbiots that are the dragon-shifters’ constant companions. The Curizan need no such companions. We have our own… talents,” he said, holding up the laser pistol he had taken from Mason.
“What the hell!” Mason cursed.
Adalard tried to keep his amusement contained when Mason lurched in his seat and slid his hand behind his back. The laser pistol Ann Marie had tucked into the man’s pants was gone.
“The Curizan have no interest in taking over your world, human,” he wryly said, rising to his feet and holding the pistol out to Mason.
“Then why are you refusing to stay away from Samara?” Mason demanded, taking the pistol and holding it between his palms.
“That is no concern of yours,” he replied. “What other questions do you wish answered?”
Mason frowned. “Why did you need a lift? I mean, couldn’t you have just beamed down or whatever you guys do?” he asked.
Adalard walked over to the window. His eyes followed a smaller, boxier version of the vehicle Samara had picked him up in as it traveled along a road leading away from the house. He focused on the blue wisps trailing behind the vehicle.
“Yes, I could have beamed down, but it has its limitations. My transport is secure for the moment. I landed a few miles from this location. Samara came along and offered me a ride. I could hardly refuse,” he said with a smile in his voice.
“Trelon and Paul came up with this list of rules. They said it was only a matter of time before more of you guys showed up. That’s why Paul set up the ranch in a trust the way he did,” Mason said.
Adalard turned and looked at Mason with a raised eyebrow. “Did they also tell you that Curizan warriors don’t like to follow the rules?” he inquired.
Mason chuckled and pulled out his reading glasses. “Actually, I believe Trelon said we’d be lucky if any of you guys followed directions. Paul insisted that they at least be given to everyone so that when he kicks their butts, they can’t say they didn’t know it was coming,” he replied, scrolling through the notes on his phone. “Okay, rule number one: No fraternizing with any of the women on the ranch. Rule number two: No killing anybody,” Mason read out loud.
Adalard shrugged, turned toward the window again and looked back at the road where Samara had disappeared. He dismissed all the rules Mason was listing. He suspected that most had already been broken if Trelon was involved in the creation of the list.
“I will need lodgings,” he announced.
“I’ll set you up at the homestead. How many of you can we expect?” Mason asked.
“One, just myself,” he replied.
“I’ll get my coat,” Mason said.
Adalard absently nodded. “I’ll meet you outside.”
“Is everything alright?” Ann Marie asked with concern.
Mason shrugged and caressed her cheek. “This one is different from the last—but I think so. Why don’t you and the girls go stay in town with your sister for a bit?” he suggested.
“Mason Caldwell Andrews, what aren’t you telling me?” she demanded, placing her hands on her hips.
Mason gazed into her eyes before he wrapped his arms around her and tightly held her. She relaxed against him and hugged him back. He rubbed his chin along her temple.
“He’s an alien. I want to make sure you and the girls are safe until I know for sure that he is harmless. You three are everything to me. We’ve talked about this before. It’s just a precaution. Besides, the girls leave to go back to school in Boston on Monday and this will make it easier on you,” he said, loosening his hold on her and looking into her eyes. “I promise.”
“You’d better. Stella is going to have a ton of questions thinking that we are fighting—or that you’ve gone back to the military,” she grumbled.
“It will only be for a few days. Tell her you’ve been worried about her since Harry took off,” he teased.
“Oh, God! Now you’re just being cruel. I’ll tell her you have a squadron of Navy Seals you’re training. That will work,” she chided before kissing him. “I love you, Mason. Please be careful.”
“Everything will be fine, love,” he promised. “I’d better go before the alien prince thinks I’m planning something evil.”
Adalard adjusted his bag and walked across the yard. He scanned the tracks left behind by the transport Samara was driving. He flexed his fingers and called on his powers within to mark the tracks.
He breathed deeply, thankful when the unusual fatigue didn’t reappear as it had on his transport. Whatever had caused the drain and the lingering effects must be confined to his vessel. Until he discovered what it was, he didn’t want to return to the Rayon I. If he was affected, then potentially everyone on board—at least every Curizan on board—could also be in danger.
The sound of the door closing alerted him that Mason was coming. The man had pulled on a thick, dark brown coat and gloves. He brushed snowflakes off a black hat that was almost identical to the one Samara wore before he placed it on his head.
“I’m not sure if you brought any clothing that looks less like a City Slicker Rock Star. If not, I can get your measurements and Ann Marie can pick up some clothes for you so you don’t stand out quite as much. We don’t get a lot of guys that look like you around here,” Mason said.
“You have no need to worry. I’m very good at blending in when necessary,” he responded in a dry tone.
Mason shot him a look of disbelief before shaking his head. Adalard fell into step when the man began walking. They crossed over to the barn where Samara had gone earlier. Mason pushed open one of the large sliding doors. Adalard frowned when he saw the man wince.
“Are you not well?” he asked.
Mason narrowed his eyes in annoyance. “I’m fine. An old injury that plays up when the weather changes,” he answered in a curt tone.
“Have you known Paul Grove for long?” Adalard asked.
“A while. Paul is a good man. He took on the responsibilities of this ranch, growing it from a few thousand acres to several hundred thousand. All while raising Trisha. His first wife died from a brain aneurysm. It was a shock to everyone. Paul trained me about fifteen years or so ago. I can tell you this—I wouldn’t be here today if not for what I learned from him,” Mason said, sliding into one of the boxy transports. “I’ll show you how to work one of these. I’m sure it’ll be like a toy compared to what you normally drive.”
He smiled at Mason. “I’m always up to trying new methods of transportation. Especially when they aren’t trying to eat me,” he confessed.
Mason paused and stared at him before shaking his head. “That sounds like a good tale to go with a glass of bourbon,” he chuckled.
Adalard nodded. He silently listened as Mason shared the
history of the area. It didn’t take him long to understand how the transport worked. It was amazing in its simplicity, and he had to admit that the heated seat felt good. The snow from earlier had melted. Once he was alone, he would contact the Rayon I, warn the officers he had left in charge, and then see exactly how far he was from his transport and the best way to get there.
“Now Trisha…. That girl was amazing. Paul would train the guys and once they were full of themselves thinking they were invincible; he’d send Trisha in after them. Sometimes she’d toy with them. Other times she’d tag them with a kill shot before they made it a mile. Not a one of them ever saw her coming, either,” Mason said.
Adalard looked around the rugged terrain. Thick patches of trees opened onto wide, dry plains littered with boulders of varying sizes. It reminded him of different regions on Ceran-Pax, his home world.
“She is a remarkable huntress,” Adalard agreed.
The silence that followed his comment made him look at Mason. The hard expression on the other man’s face and the way he gripped the steering wheel told Adalard that the comment upset Mason. He should have realized that as protective as Mason was about women on the ranch, his feelings would extend to Trisha.
“I’m not sure I want to know the details of how you know how good Trisha is,” he warily stated.
Adalard chuckled. “Trust me when I say that she took care of the situation. She and her youngling are safe. Trelon Reykill is a deadly adversary, and the Ha’darra and d’Rojah families have offered additional protection. If the Great War between our people showed us one thing, it is that the bond between friends can be stronger than those of family,” he said.
“Amen to that,” Mason agreed before he nodded to the building ahead. “There’s the main house. You should be comfortable here. There is another UTV in the garage you can use. We keep Paul’s truck here, but since you don’t have a driver’s license, it might be best if you need anything in town to let me or Chad know and we can drive you. I’ll give Chad a call to let him know you’re here. Oh, before I forget, I’ve got a cellphone for you to use. I’ll show you how to work it before I leave. Signal here can be twitchy, especially if the weather is bad. There’s one of those fancy replicators in the kitchen for food. Trelon installed it the last time he was here. He said you aliens didn’t all eat the same thing. If you want to cook, let me know, and I’ll ask Ann Marie to pick up a few things for you from the grocery store. She banned me from going after I spent a month’s allowance on the processed shit that isn’t good for me,” he confessed with a wry smile.
Adalard laughed but his focus was on the empty UTV that Samara had been driving. It was parked next to a beautifully crafted, long, wood-and-stone building a short distance away.
“I will be fine,” he replied in a distracted voice.
Mason’s sharp gaze followed his, and he shook his head. “I’ll tell you once more—stay away from Samara. She’s too young for you, and she has enough troubles with the men in her life. She doesn’t need to add an alien to the mix,” he warned.
Adalard’s eyes narrowed. “What men? Who is giving her trouble? Is she in danger?” he demanded.
“Only from you, I suspect. Let me show you the house. I’ve got things to do,” Mason replied, pulling the UTV to a stop by the front steps.
Chapter Six
Samara softly sang along with a song playing on her cellphone as she swept out each stall. The music helped keep the boredom of mucking out stalls to a tolerable level. The barn was state-of-the-art and contained thirty stalls. It was just one of the many barns scattered throughout the ranch. Fortunately, she was only responsible for keeping this one clean along with her other duties.
There were seldom more than a dozen horses at a time here. They were mostly used for Mr. G’s survival training business. Since Mr. G had gone on an extended trip, Mason had taken over the training part of the business.
Mason said Mr. G was spending more time with Trisha now that she had been found safe and sound. A shiver ran through her at the thought of the serial killer the police originally thought was responsible for the disappearance of Trisha and several other women. She was glad they were all safe now.
The thought of a serial killer brought another face to her mind, and she quit singing, thinking of Prince Adalard Ha’darra of Curizan. She would have to Google him when she took a break to see what she could find out about him. Maybe she could ask Annalisa to do a background check.
“Just to make sure he isn’t some crazy.” She chuckled before she let out a squeak of surprise when she turned and realized she wasn’t alone. The man she was thinking about was standing at the opening of the stall staring at her with glowing, purple eyes. “Shit! You startled me.”
She pulled her earbuds out of her ears, wound them up and shoved them into her pocket along with her cellphone. She pursed her lips and waited for her heart to slow down. He wasn’t helping to make that happen when he stepped into the stall.
“Who might be crazy?” he asked, his voice deep.
“You,” she blurted out before she grimaced and continued, “need to be more careful. I could have jabbed you.”
He looked at the broom in her hand and raised an eyebrow. “With a broom?” he inquired.
“With horse manure in the bristles,” she pointed out.
She lifted the broom between them so he could see the bits of brown mixed with straw. Granted, she did it more to keep him from coming any closer than to emphasize her point. She barely covered her smirk when he wiggled his nose with distaste and stepped back.
“You remind me of Melina and Ariel. They both have an affinity for creatures who poop a lot,” he dryly replied.
She lowered the broom and frowned. “Ariel? Do you know Ariel Hamm?” she asked.
He nodded. “Unfortunately. I threatened to start a war if her mate sent me another Tasier,” he proclaimed with a shudder. “Those things are the bane of the galaxy. I’ve never seen a creature that can procreate as quickly as they can.”
Her frown deepened to confusion. “A Tasier? Wait, her mate?” she repeated.
“Yes. Tasiers are small, furry creatures from the Minor Moon of Leviathan. They can keep them there for all I care,” he explained. “Mandra Reykill, Ariel’s mate, sent two of them as a gift. Before the end of the week, there were hundreds of them. The creatures have since been declared a protected species—why I have no idea—and thankfully reintroduced to the moon.”
With a sudden burst of giggles, Samara said, “Ah, that’s right!” she snapped her fingers and gave a sharp nod, trying to keep a straight face but failing. “You’re an alien Prince. I forgot. Okay, Mr. Alien. I’ve got a lot of work to make up for before the end of the day, so if you don’t mind, I’d like to get it finished. If you are looking for something to do, there are some tourist places still open in town you might find interesting,” she suggested.
“Who has threatened to harm you?” he suddenly demanded.
She gave him a startled look and frowned. “Harm me? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she responded in a confused voice.
He took a step closer to her and his eyes were glowing that weird purple again. Hell, his whole body had a weird glow to it. She could see varying shades of red interspersed with violet and black.
He looks like a frigging mood ring the way he’s changing colors! she thought.
“Mason said there are men in your life giving you trouble,” he said.
She took a step back. He stepped closer, and she tightened her grip on the broom handle. It took a moment to comprehend what he was saying. The colors around him were distracting her. So were the colors she saw rising from her body and mingling with his.
“You need to leave—now,” she ordered in a strained voice, shaking her head.
“Who is threatening you?” he demanded.
“What are you? You’re… you’re glowing,” she whispered.
“I told you who I am, Samara. Who are the men threatening
you?” he growled.
“Hello!” a deep voice called. “Samara, have you seen…? I see you have.”
“Chad… I-I-I’m glad you’re here,” she breathed, using Chad’s sudden appearance to scoot away from the livid man who was possessively staring at her.
“Is everything alright?” Chad Morrison inquired.
She nervously glanced at Adalard and nodded. “Yeah. I’ve got to go get the hay for the stalls. Maybe you can show… the new guy around,” she suggested before fleeing.
She practically ran to the store room. Slipping inside, she closed the door and leaned against it. She lifted a hand to her chest. Her heart was beating like she had just run a marathon.
“What the hell was that all about?” she whispered.
She placed the broom back on the hook. Her hand shook, and she pulled it back against her chest where her heart was finally beginning to slow down. She leaned her head back against the door and stared up at the ceiling. Once she felt under control, she held her arm out and rubbed her sleeve. There were no colors.
“Today has been one of those days when I should never have gotten out of bed,” she said with a shake of her head.
She took a deep breath and grabbed the pitchfork. There was too much to do, and this job was too important to risk losing either her mind or her only source of income. There was also the matter of asking Mason about the apartment above the barn next door to him. At the moment, it was used for storing extra furniture and equipment. It wouldn’t take much to clean up, and she didn’t need much room.
“Stay focused, girl. Forget about aliens and glowing colors. Stay focused on your goal—and stay away from the new guy!” she admonished herself.
Fortified, she opened the door and peered out. She heard Chad’s deep voice moving away from the barn. Satisfied she was alone, she stepped out of the store room.
“Remember, there are no such things as aliens. They are only real in the movies,” she whispered.