The Alien Reindeer’s Bounty

by Starr Huntress

  The highway curved and the picturesque town on the western shore of the lake revealed itself, wedged between the water and the mountains. The sight soothed a place deep inside him. Mads had traveled all over Reilen, had been to several planets, many of which were astonishing wonders of natural beauty, but no place felt like home.

  Earth was his home. This town surrounded by wilderness was his home.

  Needing provisions, he stopped at the grocery store in town. If his mate happened to be working, all the better.

  Odessa’s scent of rain and earth hit him the moment he entered the building. He fought back the instinct to march up to her and demand to know why she rejected him last night, but he knew his mate well enough to know that if he began the conversation like an argument, she’d deliver an argument.

  He needed to be calm and gather information. What were her reasons for rejecting him? Did she have prior obligations or objections about him?

  Mads randomly grabbed items off the shelf, his attention focused on Odessa one aisle over. A male spoke to her and she laughed, low and husky. Was that male the reason she rejected him? Had he missed his opportunity? Would he spend the rest of his life alone with a broken bond like his uncle?

  Females couldn’t be trusted. They couldn’t think beyond themselves. Did Mads believe Odessa to be different? Human or reilendeer, they were all the same.

  He gripped the container of tomato soup too hard and the cardboard packaging burst at the seams. Red soup gushed over his hands and onto the floor.

  He shook his head to clear away the corrupt thoughts. Those were his father’s words, once spoken to ridicule and provoke Mads into anger. The old bull found still found ways to whisper poison in his ears.

  “What did you do?” Odessa stood before him, with a frown on her face.

  “I want to spend time with you.”

  “That’s nice, but you spilled soup all over my floor.” She lifted a device and called for a mop and bucket.

  “Have dinner with me tonight.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

  “Give me one good reason why.”

  Odessa

  This fool right here.

  In the soup section, standing in a puddle of tomato soup like he tore open the container with his bare hands.

  She felt a flutter in her chest and didn’t want to think too hard on it, because Mads tearing open boxes of soup like a wild man was not hot and did not excite her.

  Shut up.

  Mostly it just made a mess and screwed up her inventory.

  “You want a reason? I’ll give you three.” She held up one hand and raised her index finger. “One, I’m a grown-ass woman. I don’t have to explain anything to you. Two, because I’m a mom. I don’t have the ability to go swanning about town at the drop of a hat. I have to make plans, get a sitter, and all that jazz.” She had baking to do for Thanksgiving, otherwise known as tomorrow, but she didn’t have to explain all that to Mads. It wasn’t his business.

  “Three, you broke my heart!”

  Her words came out louder than she intended, echoing through the store. She felt the heat of a dozen heads turning in her direction, but she ignored them. So what if she made a scene? This was her store, dammit. Let them look.

  He had the decency to looked pained.

  “You were my best friend and you left, Mads, you left without saying goodbye. Do you have any idea how small that made me feel?”

  “No,” he said.

  The words kept coming in a restorative purge, like speaking her darkest pain cleansed her. It couldn’t hurt her anymore. Mads couldn’t hurt her. “You were the most important person in the world to me. I would have done anything for you. And you were able to walk away like it was nothing. Like I was nothing.”

  Her hands balled into fists, her fingernails digging into her palms as she waited for him to give some explanation or apology. He said nothing, only looking at her with those damn puppy dog eyes. Last night, he walked up to her so cocky and confident in his charm and then asked her out like nothing happened. Like he hadn’t kissed her and then ditched her, like twelve years didn’t separate them, and the worst part was how easily she fell into their old patterns.

  Screw him.

  “And you can’t even tell me why.” Her voice sounded fragile and vulnerable and she hated it, every moment of whatever this shitshow was. “You should leave.”

  He lowered his head and ran a hand up the back of his head, mussing his hair, and glanced up through those thick, dark lashes. She knew that look, his wheedling-to-get-his-way look.

  Not today. She had zero interest in his excuses. So maybe his dad finally shipped him off to military school like he had always threatened. Email was a thing. They still had phones in military school. Ghosting is what the kids called it nowadays. Somehow that knowledge ramped up her frustration. A simple “I’m alive” would have done so much to soothe her heartache, but all she had was years worth of silence.

  “Leave before I call the cops,” she said.

  He nodded. “As you wish.”

  “Don’t you quote Princess Bride at me,” she snapped, her good behavior and patience at an end. How dare he drag in their favorite movie, like a shared memory could repair the distance between them. “That’s my movie now. When you left, you left it behind, and I’m not sharing. Now leave. I won’t ask again.” She reached into her pocket for her phone.

  “Everything okay here?” a male voice asked. Odessa’s shoulders slumped in relief as Rocco, the local sheriff’s deputy, approached. With his buzz-cut hair and starched uniform, he stopped in every day for a piece of fruit—apple or grapes, usually—and a granola bar. She’d never been more pleased to see a regular customer.

  Rocco quickly assessed the situation. “This guy bothering you?”

  “I’m going. I apologize.” Mads held up his hands in surrender as he left the market.

  “You okay, boss?” Bonnie asked, appearing with the mop and bucket. Efficiently, she placed a wet floor sign and tossed the ruined package in a trash bag.

  Fantastic. Odessa had an audience.

  She watched the doors, half-hoping that Mads would storm back, explain himself and beg for her forgiveness. “Fine,” she eventually muttered.

  “That’s the guy, huh?” Bonnie worked the mop across the floor.

  Odessa grabbed a cloth and a spray bottle of cleaner and wiped down the shelving. Splatter got everywhere. She should have denied knowing anything about a guy but Bonnie would call her out on her baloney. “That’s him.”

  “I didn’t think he’d look like he walked off a movie set. Like an action movie and he uses a magic hammer to smite the bad guys.” Appreciation dripped in every word.

  Not thinking about Mads’ magic hammer.

  “Looks aren’t everything,” Odessa said. “You know how you can crush on someone and you’re all about them. They’re perfect. Then one day the spell breaks and you can’t stand the sight of them?” The spell never broke for her. She had hoped that time would ease how she felt, or at least let it fade from slavish devotion to mediocre affection, but no such luck.

  Her heart still raced when he spoke to her. The sight of him made her smile and a warm, honey-sweet sentiment filled her and it wasn’t fair.

  “I don’t know,” Bonnie said. “He seems legit perfect. Everyone said he was good looking, but I figured all you old-timers’ memories were getting fuzzy.”

  “Bonnie,” she said but Bonnie ignored her and kept on talking.

  “Things get talked up, you know, like how when you catch a fish, that fish keeps getting bigger every time you tell the story.”

  “Bonnie, enough.” Odessa wiped down the last of the splatter. Her headache was back in full force.

  “All right, all right. Did you hear about Selena?” Bonnie barely paused for breath, waiting for Odessa to answer. “Well, she ran off. Skipped out on her rent and left Tina high and dry. How is she going to afford that two-bedroom apartment on
her own? She’d been seeing some guy over in Spokane, which is a stupid long way to go but the dating pool is a little shallow here, if you know what I mean—”

  “Bonnie.”

  “Yeah, boss?”

  “Sometimes it’s okay not to say anything.”

  Chapter 7

  Odessa

  Odessa dashed across the street, lured by the siren call of hot coffee with flavored syrup and maybe a chicken salad sandwich, or one of those turkey-stuffing-cranberry wraps.

  Her stomach rumbled.

  Yeah, totally getting one of those.

  The usual lunch crowd filled the coffee shop. Odessa normally grabbed her order and ate on a bench outside, weather permitting. A few minutes of sun and fresh air revitalized her in the middle of the workday. Sugar and caffeine helped, too.

  A young woman focused on her phone, joined Odessa in line.

  “Damn, look at that ass. You’re looking fine, girl,” a man with buzz-cut brown hair said, practically whistling.

  The woman tensed but continued to stare at her phone.

  Ugh, that guy. Jayson. They went to school together. He acted as if he was God’s gift to women then and he hadn’t really changed. Maybe fewer pimples.

  The door opened again, letting in a cool gust of air, and Mads joined the back of the line.

  Don’t stare. Don’t—

  He nodded at her.

  Heat flooded through her as she blushed. She was too old to blush like a schoolgirl, but here she was fighting the urge to twirl her hair and giggle. She ran through the list of why she was upset with him—kissed her, ghosted her, broke her heart—and why she shouldn’t get that honey feeling inside when he looked at her—the kid. Single moms couldn’t flit about town in a whirlwind romance. She had to put Ruby first, always.

  “Ma’am, your order?”

  Odessa snapped her head forward, toward the barista and rushed through her order. She moved to the end of the counter to wait.

  Jayson planted his hand on the ass of the woman on her phone. “Come on, baby, don’t be like that.”

  “Sorry, I’m not interested.” The woman twisted away.

  “Those yoga pants tell me you’re interested.”

  Several things happened at once.

  Odessa’s coffee arrived.

  The woman glanced around the café like a deer ready to flee. A few people had their phones out, possibly recording, but not a single person stepped up to intervene. Focused on filling orders, the baristas noticed nothing. The situation was obvious to Odessa. No one noticed or could be bothered to help the woman getting her butt grabbed by a creep.

  Determined not to be a passive witness to Jayson’s sleazeball antics, Odessa loosened the lid on her coffee and casually reached down to untie her shoestrings. Someone was about to be clumsy and dump a crotch-full of hot coffee on a jerk.

  Mads tapped Jayson on the shoulder.

  Buzz-cut turned around, gave Mads a measured look, and sneered. “What do you want?”

  All eyes in the coffee shop turned to watch.

  “The lady said she wasn’t interested. I suggest you back off and apologize for being a douchecanoe,” Mads said, voice smooth and controlled.

  Something about that tone made Odessa’s body snap to attention. It wasn’t bossy or high-handed.

  Commanding.

  Yeah.

  Buzz-cut appeared to be immune to Mads’ presence. “You gonna make me?” He poked Mads in the chest. “Runt?”

  Mads was hardly a runt but Jayson was built like an ox—wide and all muscle in the neck—and about as smart as one, too. “Do not,” Mads warned.

  “Or what? You gonna spill your soy latte half-caf frou-frou drink on me?” Jayson grinned, obviously pleased with himself. He poked Mads’ again, only this time Mads caught the man’s finger.

  Calmly, almost with a bored expression, Mads bent Jayson’s index finger backward and twisted Jayson’s arm, making the bully squeal.

  “I’m so sorry you made me do this,” Mads apologized, driving Jayson to his knees. The bully kneeled on the floor, twisting and whimpering but unable to break Mads’ grip. “I suggest you apologize.”

  Jayson did not answer immediately, prompting Mads to tighten his grip. “All right! All right. Sorry.”

  “There are so many reasons to be sorry,” Mads said. “Be specific.”

  “Sorry for touching your ass!”

  Odessa’s heart thumped, waiting for Mads’ response.

  “And?”

  “And being a douchecanoe. I’m sorry.”

  Odessa turned her face slightly to hide her smile. No one said douchecanoe anymore. She could practically hear Ruby rolling her eyes if she ever heard Odessa using such language.

  “Is that acceptable to you?” Mads asked the woman. She nodded. “Time to leave then.” Mads yanked the man to his feet and steered him toward the door.

  “Hey! I didn’t get my coffee,” Jayson whined.

  “Sorry, man. You know you’re not welcome here,” the barista said.

  Mads ejected Jayson and the relaxed lunchtime atmosphere returned. She busied herself adding sugar and cream to her coffee.

  He joined her at the counter. Without acknowledging her—not even a nod, rude—he added cream and sugar to his coffee. A lot of sugar.

  Odessa wanted to make a smartass comment. She bit her tongue. She didn’t need to say anything. So, what if he did a good deed and taught Jayson a lesson? Did he want a gold star?

  How much sugar did he plan to add to that poor cup of coffee?

  “You want some coffee with that? I can get you a spoon to shovel in all that sugar.”

  He huffed as if swallowing a laugh. Sunlight came through the plate glass windows and for a moment it seemed as if his brown eyes flashed a wintery blue. Had to be a trick of the light. Without saying a word, he scrawled a phone number on a napkin. With a challenge in his eye, he pushed it in her direction, then left.

  Odessa balled up the napkin but hesitated with her hand over the trash. She shouldn’t call or even think about the possibility of calling.

  She knew better.

  “Do you know him?” The woman in yoga pants slid next to her at the counter. “What’s he like? What’s his name?” She gasped, spying the napkin. “Is that his number?”

  Odessa shoved it in her coat pocket. “I thought I knew him. I don’t know anymore.”

  Mads

  With minor modifications, he linked his Reilen-issued comm unit to the Earth equivalent, a smartphone. Now he would receive Svallin’s incoming messages without a delay.

  The advancement cellphones made in the last twelve years greatly impressed him. When he left Earth, his phone was adequate for voice function, text messages and capturing poor quality images. Now the device was a powerful computer he could hold in his hand.

  When he accepted the bounty on Karl, Mads received a brief on Earth, filled with woefully outdated information. According to Reilen intelligence officers, Earth had not yet achieved rudimentary flight. Their primary source of power was burning fossils. Medical technology was crude. People died from infections at an alarming rate. Limbs were hacked off in a desperate attempt to save a life, to gruesome results.

  The brief warned Mads of poor personal hygiene, inadequate public health measures, and repulsive living situations with insufficient sanitation. The cities were crowded and polluted. The rural areas were isolated and superstitious. Humans excelled at killing each other and had built elaborate weapons of war. They were violent and savage and prone to attack that which they did not understand.

  Earth had been classified as highly dangerous and travel to the planet had been restricted to military and research personnel.

  The brief deeply embarrassed Mads. The information may have been correct a century ago, but his people were too arrogant or too lazy to maintain it. They had written off Earth and humanity, and such an attitude reflected poorly on the reilendeer.

  Earth was not the primitive place his peo
ple imagined, filled with crude technology and brutish humans. The local tech could not rival Reilen but humans had made stunning advancements in the last century.

  He rebooted the phone and a message came through immediately. His chest swelled, hoping to find a text from Odessa or a missed call. At her request, he would respect her boundaries and not be a creepy stalker, despite that being exactly what he wanted to do. He would not seek her out but if they happened to be in the same location, as they were today, he would not ignore her.

  She had his number. She wouldn’t resist contacting him for long.

  No such joy. The message came from Svallin.

  Status update.

  He typed a reply, “I have secured Earth-based equipment to assist me.”

  You already have equipment. Superior equipment.

  “Yes, and how would I explain why my arm glows with foreign symbols and makes noises? It is safer to use Earth tech.” The reilendeer communication device was flexible and transparent. Worn on the forearm, it was invisible. Unfortunately, it lit up like a beacon when in use. Better to keep it hidden and use an Earth phone like anyone else. Remembering to keep the device charged—it used batteries known to explode if damaged—and not dropping it would be the biggest challenge.

  This isn’t a holiday. I want results.

  Mads flipped the phone over to hide the screen. Reaching for a notebook, he made a list of Karl’s known domiciles. He needed to go through the motion of hunting his bounty to keep Svallin off his back.

  Odessa

  The bed shifted and the familiar scent of strawberry shampoo snuggled near. “Mommy? Can I sleep with you?”

  “Did you have a bad dream?” Odessa lifted the blanket and Ruby climbed under.

  “The Attic Man was in my room again,” she whispered, like the man haunting her nightmare could hear her.

  Odessa smoothed back the curling red hair and kissed her goblin’s forehead. She’d had this recurring nightmare for a few weeks now. The first time, she woke up screaming that she was being murdered. Panic raced in Odessa’s heart as she ran to Ruby’s bedroom, only to find the girl standing on her bed and pointing to the opened window.