“What if I come with you to the interview?” I say. She looks surprised. “We both want the same thing.”
If I know what information she learns, I can be better equipped to steer her away from the truth, anyway.
“Right…” she says. “Yeah. OK. It might be nice to have someone by my side. But we aren’t gonna need to go good cop, bad cop, or anything. We’re just having a friendly discussion.”
Not sure what she’s talking about. We’re not the police at all. Are we? No, I decide with a small nod. We’re not. “OK,” I say, uncertain. “Let’s go have a discussion.”
I grab the skis I’ve hardly ever used, and follow her out of the cave and back onto the slope. I knew they’d come in handy. If I ever had to make my way down to the bottom in this form, I figured I would need them.
We zoom down the slope. Elle is ungainly and clumsy, but she is squealing with laughter anyway and my wrist is beeping at the positive energy she sends swirling between us. Finally, we reach the bottom, and cozy up together on the ski loft back to town.
Her lips are so tempting that I can’t possibly ignore them for any longer. I lean over, the zip teeth from her suit snarling against my button up shirt, and we share a kiss as hot as a crackling campfire as gentle snowflakes alight in her hair, her eyelashes, her nose.
She doesn’t notice that they all melt just before touching my skin.
“I wasn’t expecting this,” she says, looking away at the pine trees below her waving feet. “I’ve never…”
I nod, understanding. “Met someone on vacation. Me neither.” Except her vacation was probably hours away. Mine was lightyears.
“Right,” she says after some hesitation. “I guess I’m not a very romantic or relationshippy person.”
“You’re too young to define yourself like that,” I find myself saying. I want to take it back, but it’s too late. She’s looking at me funny, so I just give a big smile. She is young. If I had always lived on Earth, I would technically be twice her age or so. But I lived in a different solar system with a different definition of time, and a different definition of maturity. There are other technicalities that would have me almost an identical ‘age’ as her.
But am I just talking circles to normalize this interspecies relationship to myself? Maybe to practise for when I have to explain myself to my people?
I bite my tongue and look away, and soon we are hopping off the ski lift together. “That was so beautiful,” she says, breathless. “I feel … like if I had done that by myself, I would have had my nose in a notebook or in my phone and I wouldn’t have appreciated it.” Elle nudges at a clump of snow with her boot. “I’m just trying to say thank you. For a nice time. Even if it ends right now. You are really lovely.”
I’ve never been called lovely. My wrist device beeps, and I hurry to silence it. It has plenty more noise in it now that I’ve met Elle, and it’s starting to get annoying.
“Lead the way,” I say, and she makes her way through the bustling early morning market setup, and to the edges of the town.
I have forced myself into a day of investigating myself, and pretending to be shocked about everything new we learn. The thought should be exhausting. I watch Elle walk, a bounce in her step, shine in her wavy hair, and I don’t feel exhausted at all. I’ve never felt so exhilarated.
This is nothing but dangerous.
Chapter Nine
Elle
Braxen is fine with my insistence on quickly showering, washing the smell of smoke, sex and snow out of my hair, and changing into a more brunch-appropriate outfit. He has plenty of things to do, I presume, so I get busy.
I’m running a brush through my hair and stifling a yawn when Liara bursts through the door and whispers a curseword at it for hitting the wall and making a noise.
Then she spots me, and freezes in the doorway.
My yawn turns into a laugh and I turn from her back to the mirror. “You were out all night?” I ask.
She tuts and tucks flyaway hair behind her ears. She is indeed wearing the last outfit I saw her in, and looking like she got even less sleep than me. “I thought you’d be in bed,” she grumbled. “I need coffee now.”
As she storms over to raid the cupboards for anything resembling caffeine, she pauses to squint at me. “Did you do anything last night? Anything at all?”
Feeling suddenly defensive, I raise my eyebrows at her in the mirror. “Nothing. Why?”
But that was the wrong answer. Liara makes a big show of sighing. “Nothing at all? I told you, don’t just shut yourself away and work, Elle. Do something. Go see the market today?”
“I…” I can’t tell her my real plans today, unfortunately, but I can tell her some of it. “Yeah, I am heading the market. I met a guy, actually.”
I expect her to squeal and pry details out of me, but Liara shakes her head as she pulls out a French press and sniffs at some coffee before choosing one. “Elle, I just want you to get out of the house and off your laptop. Get your mind off work. Sure, meeting a guy would be great, but—”
I feel irritation flare in my chest. “You don’t believe me? Why would I lie?”
“Why would you lie? I don’t know, but I came home to grab some of my stuff last night and your laptop was open and ready, and I saw, like, six notebooks filled with work notes spilling out of your luggage. Where did you go really? To sniff something out?”
Damn. I set my brush down and turn to face her. She’s actually really angry. I hate hate hate conflict, so I just swallow and pause before I answer. “The truth is, I did go out to follow a lead for a story,” I begin, very carefully. The last thing I want is to fight. I open my mouth to continue, you know, to the good part, but Liara holds up a hand and cuts me off.
“I knew it. You know what, Elle? Do whatever the hell you want. I dislike what you’ve become since graduation, but I still loved the person you were inside. But this? You’re lying to me now?” She shakes her head, her eyes fiery with anger, and I want to yell over her, but I’m stunned. She’s never spoken to me like this before. “Whatever. Work all you like. I’m going to get coffee in town; this stuff is stale. And then I’m going to ski, which I know you hate, so don’t bother pretending you might join me. Save it.”
She flounces off and the door shuts again before I can speak.
My best friend dislikes who I am?
I head to meet with the couple with my head spinning. Liara’s words echo through my mind. I do like to work. I like the rush I get from publishing something. The rush I get from reading comments, good or bad. I like the money I get paid, and how it enables me to pay my rent.
The more I think about it, the more annoyed I get at my best friend. How could she be so unsupportive of me? So rude? Why ruin our time together, when by her own admission we don’t get much?
But then, by the time I reach the cafe, I’ve done a 180 and I’m near tears thinking about it from her point of view. Yeah, we were supposed to spend time together. She met a guy and had one evening with him, but then returned and figured that I had always intended to spend the entire vacation busy with something else. I get why she’s upset. I’m pretty upset at me too.
I stop outside the cafe and my boots crunch to a halt. Braxen is waiting outside, looking hot and huge and is it my imagination or is he literally steaming in the cold air? He can certainly melt any ice in me with just a look; just a smile. I’m melting right now as he catches my eye.
I stop and glance inside, not seeing the couple I agreed to meet with. I bite my lip, and pull him out of the eyeline of the people inside. He raises his eyebrows, looking concerned.
“What’s wrong? Something with the case?”
It’s adorable he’s calling it ‘the case’, and I let out a laugh before shaking my head. “Let’s blow it off. Let’s hang out together instead. My place is empty.”
There’s a silence, and my veins begin to freeze with the awkwardness of it all. He’s rejecting me, he never liked me, I’ve misread every
thing.
“Elle, that sounds amazing,” he mumbles. “Don’t you want to work on your story?”
“I have an idea for another story,” I tell him, feeling my skin flush red as he stares down at me. “You like reindeer, right?”
He looks puzzled and cute, and I lead him back to my rental, feeling empowered and giddy about my decision. I would never normally blow anyone off, no matter what, but this is a vacation, and it’s not like I left them high and dry in a frozen cave. If anything, I’ve tricked them into having brunch at the world’s cutest local cafe.
The reindeer are outside, and look interested in him especially. I grab a cold carrot from the bucket and snap it in half, handing the top half to Brax. He raises his eyebrows at me and takes a bite.
“Just testing it,” he says, and for some reason I find this hilarious. I make no effort to hide my laughter, as months or even years of built up tension and stress trickles out of my body. Tears leave my eyes as Braxen stands watching me, holding up half a carrot.
Knowing he’s watching me and confused, and for some reason also the carrot in his hand, makes me laugh harder, and I’m bent double wheezing and holding my stomach as he pats my back.
I haven’t laughed like that since my mom passed away. I haven’t laughed like that since it caused me to graduate with a bad grade when my entire life I’ve been an A student. I haven’t laughed like that since I’ve thrown myself into my work 24/7 to avoid thinking about my losses and my failures.
I feel like I’ve just taken an antidote. When I stand up, my tears cold on my cheeks, I feel lighter than air. Like I could spread my arms wide and fly. I needed to relax. I needed to do something, anything, for me.
“Thank you, Brax,” I say, and wipe my eyes. He stands, holding his awkward carrot, and then snorts and begins to laugh himself. “I don’t think you know what just happened, but it was … cathartic. I think.”
“You have no idea what you’re doing to my wristwatch right now,” he says, and I smile at him, but my brows furrow in confusion. He traces his tongue over his lower lip, and then something possesses him to yank me forward with more passion than anything that happened last night, and press his lips hard into mine.
Suddenly he’s pressing my back against the wall of the lodge, his teeth grazing so lightly yet firmly against my bottom lip that my knees actually begin to shake. His tongue pushes through my lips and his fingers thread through my hair.
Something hard, long, thick, presses against me, between my legs as he pushes my wrists back against the cold wall. But I don’t feel the cold. I never do when I’m with him.
“I need you,” he says, pulling away and shaking his head as if in disbelief. “I’ve never needed anyone; anything. But I think I need you.”
I swallow, overcome by his desire for me. No one has ever looked at me like this, or grabbed me like this. Never. I expect myself to stammer, but it comes out clear as a sleigh bell. “Take me, then.”
Brax, my strange, beautiful, winter break man, grips my waist and is about to lift me into his arms to take me into my charming rental. And from what I can feel against my hip, I know he is about to make my entire vacation more than worthwhile, but then … he stops.
And you could hear a pine needle drop.
I can actually see the hairs standing up on the back of his neck, and then I notice the reindeer begin to buck and struggle. I peek over his shoulder, and that’s when I see it.
A big — um, no, huge — black bear has ambled casually past the tree line of the forest we’re backed up onto. It raises itself onto its back legs and paws at the air, and then lets out a misty bellow. The reindeers buck and pull to the end of their tethers, and I let out a gasp.
We could just run inside, but leave these poor animals to their fate? I bet there’s bear spray somewhere in some cupboard or storage space inside, but it’ll take me so long to go find it. I’m not used to there being predators in my back yard!
“Shoo!” I push past Braxen, who was clutching my shoulders protectively. I flail my arms around and yell louder. “Go! Go on!”
I saw a nature documentary once that said most of the time black bears, and I’m pretty sure that’s what this is, will just turn around and leave when faced with any opposition. Unless desperate.
But this one doesn’t seem to be desperate or sick, and it also doesn’t seem to be scared of me in the slightest. “Boo!” I yell, and Braxen steps up next to me and begins clapping and shouting too.
The bear isn’t scared. It lowers itself to all four feet and slowly wanders up to the reindeer fence, and then rises up and plants his forepaws on the fence that divides them. It’s sniffing at them so hard that its nostrils are flaring and steam is pouring from them. The thing, close up, is so big it’s making me tremble.
“We can’t leave, we can’t just leave,” I’m saying over and over, practically begging Braxen to have the answer. I take another step towards the fence and clap hard, just five feet from its huge head. It turns to blink at me, and then opens his enormous mouth filled with huge bear teeth, and gives a harsh, roaring bellow. Shaking, I try to stand my ground. “Go!” I say again. “This is a town! Shoo!”
It grumbles, opens and shuts its mouth as if to snap at me, and then shakes its huge shaggy head. Then it takes a step towards me. And then another one.
I’m frozen. Literally. I can’t move. Why is this happening? Is this some kind of divine punishment for me for letting go of the stress, the pain, the anxiety that I’ve been keeping inside me for so long? The universe is pointing and laughing right now. You thought you could relax! it’s saying, rolling in fits of laughter.
My eyes are about to well up with tears as I wonder how I could have prevented this, when…
I don’t quite know how to describe it, but even in the middle of the day, suddenly everything around is bathed in a harsh, orange glow. I’m warmed, and the bear averts his gaze, and it’s as if an actual star has fallen silently and quickly to the ground right behind me.
The bear chuffs and grunts, shifts from foot to foot, but advances no further. And then, from behind me, out steps a stag.
A stag that I can barely look directly at, because it shines so brightly. Every inch of this thing, almost twice the size of the panicking reindeer to my side, is glowing with the golden brightness of the sun itself. I take a step back until I’m pressed against the wooden wall once again, but this time without Braxen’s huge, firm body right up against me.
But I don’t feel alone. I feel confident, awed, ready for anything. A huge difference from the terror that was wrecking me body and mind just seconds ago. I feel uplifted. Tears of humble joy spring to my eyes as the bear looks away from the golden stag, shakes itself off again, and trudges back through the trees and into the forest. Hopefully never to bother us again.
Seriously, how lost did it get to end up here? Those poor reindeer. But my eyes refuse to leave the huge deer, with thick branching antlers, and fur the color of liquid gold.
I’m shaking, and after a while it turns to look at me. There’s something in those eyes. Something quite sad, and I feel it right in my gut. It takes a step forward, and then another … and the third step it takes towards me, it does it as Braxen. Seamless.
He reaches forward, and takes my frozen fingers in his, hot and comforting as a fireside, and immediately I feel warmed, safe, calm. Physically, I do, but my mind and heart are still racing to catch up. I try to speak, but nothing comes out, so I just shake my head up at him.
He looks melancholy, but accepting, and he finally speaks. “We should talk,” he says, and I am pretty inclined to agree.
Chapter Ten
Braxen
Rule One: Don’t integrate yourself too far into society.
Rule Two: Don’t get attached or form more than simple, casual relationships.
Rule Three: Do not reveal yourself to the natives as an extraterrestrial. They may not be understanding. They may act violently. They may be hostile. Don’t do it.
At all.
I lead her silently indoors as I recount each rule, and how long it took me to break each one. Not very long, honestly, and I had always considered myself quite a law-abiding citizen. It’s surprising, in a way, but then I look at Elle, and I know it isn’t really surprising at all.
There’s no other way this could have gone.
“What are you?” she whispers, still holding on to my hands like they’re lifelines to the past. To an innocent time, minutes ago, when I was just a man and she was just a woman. And things were not complicated at all.
So sweet, and so perfectly simple. Just me, her, a roaring fire, and the settling of snow outside.
“We are called Reilendeer,” I say. “The similarity to your Earth word is not a coincidence. We came a long time ago. We tried to harvest positive feelings when there were none left to be had on our own planet. We left, and only returned again recently. There was a communication issue, and my people left without me. Since none of my devices would work without positive psychic energy, I couldn’t contact them. They were trained to presume me dead, so that’s what they did.”
She shakes her head slowly. “You’re an alien? You’re seriously an alien?”
I try not to smile, but I do. “I thought I was a monster? I guess I’m both.”
She doesn’t know what to say to that.
“I don’t really like the word alien,” I continue, “but I am from another planet. Another solar system entirely, actually. Our tech there runs on psychic energy, but for some reason our harvests have been going so poorly recently. That’s why we spread out further and further, and eventually it got me stranded here.”
She shakes her head, still speechless, mouth hanging open. Then, finally, she says something.
“I don’t know what I want to talk about first: the fact that you were running around town with me ready to find out more about the ‘monster’, or the fact that … that …”
The Alien Reindeer's Wish Page 5