by S. E. Smith
Chapter Fourteen
Ranker circled the perimeter of the buildings. A soft red light lit up the outside of both buildings. The light was easy on his eyes and helped him see the surrounding area without blinding him.
There was a glow of white lights inside both buildings as well. He observed the building that looked more like a living space. There were curtains over the windows, so he could not tell if there was any movement inside. The hour was still early. He suspected that whoever inhabited the dwelling would still be awake.
There was an old human transport out front. Even from this distance he could see there was damage to the front window and left front side. He silently padded across the open area to the transport. His cat sniffed the front corner. The faint smell of blood clung to the vehicle. His sharp eyes narrowed on a few strands of blue-black hair. He sneered when he realized that Walkyr d’Rojah must have collided with the transport in his hasty escape from the avalanche he had caused.
He decided to go into the large boxy building first and then the smaller dwelling. After all, Walkyr might be in this one. He circled around the building again until he reached a side entrance. He shape-shifted and scanned the area using his more effective feline senses before turning to his two-legged form. Pulling his laser pistol from the holster at his waist, he fired at the light before aiming at the door’s locking mechanism. In seconds, he slipped through the door and into the building.
Trescina rounded the last curve in the road leading to rescue center. She slowed when she saw another car approaching. Turning on her signal, she was surprised when the other car did the same.
She pulled into the driveway and braked harder then she should have. The Suburban slid several feet before stopping. She looked in the mirror and recognized Heather’s SUV pulling in behind her.
“Wait here,” she said, running her hand over Cinnamon’s head when the tigress stuck it between the seats.
She undid her seatbelt and opened the door. Heather pulled up behind her and powered down the window. Trescina breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that Zeke was sitting in the passenger seat.
“Hi, Trescina, is everything okay? Did the cat take a turn for the worse?” Heather anxiously asked.
Trescina shook her head. “No, he’s alright. Listen, I know this is going to sound strange, but I… don’t think it is safe for you to go home at the moment,” she said.
Heather looked at her with a startled expression. “Why not?” she replied.
Zeke lowered the cell phone in his hand and leaned forward to look at her. “Is it because of the aliens that were shooting at each other?” Zeke asked.
Heather turned her head to glare at her son. “Zeke,” Heather started to reprimand.
“Yes,” Trescina replied.
“Told you I was telling the truth,” Zeke muttered, returning to the game he was playing.
Trescina almost winced when Heather turned her head and looked at her with a disbelieving expression. She looked at the woman with an apologetic smile. The cat was out of the bag now.
“I’m having enough trouble with Zeke without you helping him make up stuff, Trescina,” Heather retorted, rather exasperated.
Trescina touched Heather’s arm. “He’s not making it up, Heather. The leopard this morning is not what you think. He’s… he’s an alien shape-shifter from another planet,” she quietly explained.
Heather shook her head and shot her a wounded expression. “I can’t believe that you would lie to me. How am I supposed to teach him right from wrong if he thinks he can say things like this?” she said.
“I’m not lying,” Zeke muttered under his breath, not looking up from his game.
“He’s not lying, Heather,” Trescina confirmed.
Heather turned her head and stared out of the windshield. Trescina felt a sense of desperation when the other woman’s hand dropped to the gearshift. She knew that Heather was going to ignore her.
“I can prove it,” she suddenly blurted out.
Heather paused and shot Trescina a heated glare. Trescina could feel her cat’s protest, but she didn’t know what else to do. She could only hope that Heather would accept what she was about to see and realize that no one would believe her if she said anything.
“How? Are you going to ask the alien cat that Terry hit to suddenly turn into a little green man?” Heather sarcastically demanded.
Zeke snorted. “He’s not little, and he definitely wasn’t green,” he snickered, turning his cell phone off so he could look curiously at Trescina. “Is one of your tigers a shape-shifting alien?” he asked.
Trescina shook her head. “No…. I am,” she replied.
She gave Zeke a wry smile when she saw his eyes widen before turning her own eyes back to Heather’s face. Reaching in, she touched Heather’s arm and waited for the other woman to look at her. The shimmer of tears and the deep hurt she saw reflected in the woman’s eyes surprised her.
“Please… I need you to understand and… well, to not tell anyone about what you see,” she pleaded.
“What is there to tell?” Heather asked in a bitter tone.
“This,” she replied before she stepped back from the SUV.
Trescina could feel her cat’s resignation. A second later, she was peering in the window of Heather’s SUV with a feline’s worried expression. Heather’s mouth hung open, and her face turned extremely pale. She looked over from Heather to Zeke when the boy sprawled over his mom to look out the window at her.
“That is totally awesome!” he breathed.
His voice appeared to trigger a reaction in Heather. She was frantically trying to push her son back into his seat. It wasn’t difficult to sense that the other woman was about to bolt. She shape-shifted back into her two-legged form and reached out to grab the window before Heather could roll her window up again.
“Heather, please listen to me. One minute, just give me one minute. Please,” she pleaded.
“I…,” Heather choked out, leaning away from her.
Trescina saw Heather look at Zeke when he touched his mom’s arm. “Please, Mom. The other guy—he saved my life. Listen to what Ms. Trescina has to say,” he encouraged.
Heather drew in a shaky breath and looked at Zeke with a suddenly fierce expression. “You are going to be grounded for life,” she declared in her fiercest angry mom voice.
Zeke chuckled and sat back in his seat. “That’s like my millionth life. You’ll never get grandkids if you don’t let me out of the house,” he teased.
Heather groaned and slumped in her seat. Trescina gave Zeke a wink when the boy grinned at her and gave her the thumbs up. She could also see the excitement in his eyes, and thankfully his cell phone was on the floorboard. She hoped he didn’t realize he’d just missed the chance to go viral. Her lips twitched when he suddenly bent and picked up the cell phone with a groan and shot her a hopeful look.
“This is top secret,” she sternly ordered.
Heather reached out and plucked Zeke’s phone out of his hand. “Payback, Zeke, remember that. Mothers never forget,” she muttered before turning her attention to Trescina. “You have one minute.”
Trescina nodded and drew in a deep breath. “I never knew I was an alien until I met Walkyr this morning, and he told me that he was an alien from a planet called Sarafin. There are some bad guys that came here looking for something, but I’m not sure what it is. I think my mom and I came from this Sarafin planet, too, but I don’t want anyone to know because I’m still trying to figure out everything.
“My mom was murdered by poachers when I was a child and she never told my dad—only he really wasn’t my dad; he was my stepdad. My sister and I are pretty sure the man who killed our mom murdered him. My sister isn’t an alien—well, she is but only half, and she can’t do the things I can. You are the first person I’ve ever told this to, and I think one of the bad guys followed the trail Zeke left yesterday, and he may be at your house. I need you to keep all of this a secret,” Trescina fi
nished breathlessly.
She looked at Heather and waited—and waited—and waited. The woman was staring at her as if she had two heads instead of simply having the ability to shape-shift into a cat. Trescina bit her lip when the silence stretched out longer than she was given to explain.
“Both of your parents were murdered?” Heather whispered, her eyes filling with tears.
“Yes,” Trescina replied with a slight nod.
“Oh my God. I couldn’t even imagine… and then not knowing where you came from,” Heather murmured.
“Mom, she’s an alien! How cool is that?” Zeke said.
Heather turned and glared at her son again. “And you almost got yourself killed by one, young man. Now will you listen when I tell you that taking off without telling anyone can be dangerous?” she scolded.
Zeke grinned. “Yeah, you were right,” he replied.
Heather groaned again and leaned her head back against the headrest. Trescina felt a shaft of sympathy for Heather. If Zeke was this bad now, she couldn’t imagine what he would be like in another year or two.
“I’ll deal with you later, smart butt.” Heather reprimanded her son and then looked at her. “What do you want me to do?”
Trescina squeezed Heather’s arm in support. “Until I can scout out whether it is safe or not, you might want to stay somewhere else. You could go to my house. It should be safe, but… well, with Walkyr there, it might not be if the men come looking for him there,” she murmured.
Heather shook her head. “We can go to the ranch. I stay in the apartment above the barn at least once a week to check the animals there. Oh, God, I forgot that I’m supposed to have the high school kids come out here tomorrow,” she suddenly groaned.
“Why don’t you have them go to the ranch instead,” Zeke suggested.
Heather nodded. “That’s a good idea,” she said.
Zeke shrugged. “I have them on occasion. Can I have my phone back?” he asked, already bored with the conversation.
Trescina chuckled when Heather rolled her eyes. Her expression sobered when Heather looked at her again. She could see the uneasiness in the woman’s eyes even though Heather was trying to hide it.
“I need to think about what I’ve learned. I… can’t promise I won’t report this. I won’t say anything until I can wrap my own head around everything,” Heather quietly said.
Trescina’s gut tightened. Before, she had kept the secret of her existence because she was afraid of what would happen to her 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.
Chapter Fifteen
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 the squealing of tires as a car turned into the otherwise empty parking lot of a building under construction. The 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 dropped his hand to his side as if he’d never extended it.
Vlad studied 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. A pair of dark, oversized aviator sunglasses hid the man’s eyes. Dressed in a partially buttoned, tropical print shirt, white shorts, and tan deck shoes, Carl looked every bit the part of a 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 while he waited for Vlad’s response.
Vlad turned, reached through the window of the rental car, and pulled an envelope off the dash. He handed the bulging white rectangle to Carl who quickly opened it and counted the one hundred dollar bills. 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 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 opening 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 cars 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.
Someone honked a horn behind him, drawing 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 pressed the accelerator.
The car behind him sped up to get beside him. The young man who was 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 on 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 can book a flight 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 He
ather backed out onto the highway and drove 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 woods 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. She looked at Spice again, her concern that he’d seen her shape-shift dissipating at the sight of Spice’s heaving sides. She looked back at Walkyr’s riveting face.
“I was hoping you’d…” her voice died when he leaned down 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.