Guardian Alien: a sci-fi alien romance (OtherWorldly Men Book 1)

by Susan Grant

  “Correct,” Cavin said. “Once, we were one civilization, but there was a schism.”

  “And the Coalition sees it as their right to resettle Earth’s population.”

  “Also correct. My government has long pursued an aggressive expansion of territory for the greater good.”

  A muscle pulsed in Jared’s jaw. “In my business, we call it imminent domain. It refers to the power of the government to take private property and convert it into public use. In the U.S., the Fifth Amendment provides that the government may only exercise this power if they provide just compensation to the property owners. Except, I don’t see we’re being offered anything by your government.”

  “Protection from the Drakken Empire is what they’ll offer.”

  The silence deepened as Cavin shared his Plans A and B.

  “It’s the best chance we have at having a say in our future,” Jana said. “Fooling the Coalition Space Force into thinking we have a fleet of space-faring craft.”

  “A phantom fleet,” Jared put in.

  “How do we know you’re who you say you are, Caydinn?” Grandpa growled. “You’re an alien? Prove it. Otherwise it’s just bullshit.”

  “I will submit to a DNA test. But until I can…” Cavin withdrew a small ball from his pocket. It looked like Beek from when they were little, the one she used to call a magic ball, but it was more advanced—no more chirping. “It allowed me to keep watch over your property and monitor your family’s safety while I was working, and to see when you arrived home,” he’d explained earlier. He released the fist-size sphere, and it floated upward, its chameleon surface glowing. Lights raced around the middle, like a moon orbiting around a planet. “My father was a scientist. When he came here, twenty-three Terran years ago, he recorded images on a viewer bot. I transferred some of them to this bot. Display ranch—overhead.”

  A glowing 3D video appeared below the chandelier, an aerial view of the backyard. A man ran with a football. “That’s me.” Jared leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. “Who’s that boy I’m throwing the football to? Wait—that’s dad. I’m…the boy. Whoa.” He fell backward in his seat, shaking his head slowly, as scenes from their childhood played. Family barbecues, frisbee football games, scenes from a long-ago summer Jana had never forgotten. If there had been drones then, one could have taken similar images, but the technology didn’t exist to record Jared, Jana, and Evie as children—from altitude. Or Mama and Dad. Or Grandpa in his garden, holding Grandma’s hand…

  “My Maggie,” Grandpa said, his eyes moist.

  Cavin placed his futuristic firearm on the table. “This is an XPF-222 sidearm, known as a triple.” Next, he pulled up his sleeve and ran his cuff computer through its paces. By the end of the demonstration, he’d left little doubt he was who he claimed to be—an officer in an interstellar army.

  “How about a picture of your ship?” Jared asked in true fighter-pilot fashion.

  The Malamay appeared above their heads, slowly rotating. Jared laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back in his seat. “I’d give my right testicle to fly that puppy.”

  “Save your testicle for something better,” Cavin said.

  “Haven’t found her yet. But this…call me in love.” Jared swept his gaze over the image.

  “What I mean is that this transport is considered an ugly craft by Coalition standards. But not so the fighter craft in our space forces. Now those might be worth sacrificing a testicle for.”

  “Any chance of getting inside your ugly duckling? A tour.”

  “I will give you more than a tour. I will show you how to power it up. Not for sport, but because I may need your help in this mission.”

  Growing serious, Jared answered with a curt nod. “Whatever you need, bro.”

  “You are my backup if I do not make it to the Roswell ship. On my command—or Jana’s, in the event I am no longer alive—you are to power up my ship. It will create a signal that Coalition fleet sensors will pick up, giving them pause. Not a very long pause, but perhaps long enough for a miracle.”

  Jared absorbed the information. “Why not use your ship to trick the fleet? Then no need to go Area 51.”

  “It is too modern. Its AI has safeguards against hacking that I can’t circumvent. It can only produce a single signal, not the battle force of a hundred false signals. The Roswell ship is much older and has no such firewalls.”

  Grandpa’s blood pressure so far seemed to be steady. He was no longer openly skeptical but he wasn’t exactly embracing the idea, either. He ran a veined, trembling hand over Cavin’s gleaming futuristic pistol. Jana was struck by the symbolism of the sight. The weapon’s advanced construction, the elderly man’s hand—it encapsulated her past and her future, a future that might never be unless she could get Cavin to where he needed to go.

  Suddenly, Grandpa shoved the firearm away. “You’re still an alien, boy! I’ve read plenty of science fiction in my time. How do I know you’re not planning to steal my granddaughter away to another planet?”

  Cavin reached inside his shirt and withdrew his necklace. On the chain dangled the egg-shaped wooden frog, its paint chipped and faded. “Jana gave it to me.”

  Mama gasped. “Is it a matryoshka doll?”

  Cavin looked at Jana. “Is it?”

  Jana smiled. “Yes.”

  “I have treasured it for twenty-three years. It proves nothing, sir, I realize this, but know my vow is to protect Jana. Not to do her harm. Not to separate her from her family.”

  Mama smiled. “Jana of all my children has treasured my matryoshkas since she was small. I remember how she’d gather them and read the notes John wrote when we were dating, replacing them so carefully. For her to have given this to you must mean she sees you as someone special.”

  Jana clasped Cavin’s hand—in the open, in front of the family.

  “What do you need from me?” Grandpa asked them gruffly.

  “I’ll brief Dad. He put pressure on the people who may know who actually does know where the saucer is hidden. While he’s doing that, I’ll continue to apply pressure to some of those same people.”

  “A multipronged assault,” Cavin said.

  As long as it wasn’t Cavin they were assaulting—or carting off to a lab somewhere, ending their chance to save Earth. “Grandpa, I’m trying to reach Chester Mahoney—General Mahoney. Remember him? My guy says he knows about that saucer. He hasn’t called back. Maybe you can spur things along.”

  “We’ve been out of touch for years. I’ll round up that old rascal.”

  Jared nodded, raising his beer bottle. “Every mission needs a name. If we don’t already have one, I propose we dub this Operation Phantom—in honor of Earth’s phantom fleet.”

  Cavin looked pleased. “Operation Phantom it is.” They raised their glasses in a toast.

  Jana let out a breath. They’d rallied her family, and had the beginnings of a plan. But bigger obstacles loomed—talking their way onto Area 51, for one, without getting her or Cavin apprehended before they got there.

  Jana sat in bed in her girlhood room, working on her laptop. Despite exhaustion, she couldn’t sleep. The house was quiet. Jared had stayed over after his visit to Cavin’s ship. Cavin had remained onboard for the night.

  It was like going back to their childhood—her in her bedroom and Cavin out in the woods in a spaceship. Here at home surrounded by family she’d never be able to get him alone anyway. She let out a disappointed sigh.

  Something pinged against the window. A pebble.

  She shot up and pushed aside the curtains. Cavin was outside her window in the big oak tree, the same tree they’d climbed as children. He straddled a branch, swinging his legs, just like he used to do. Seeing her, he patted his chest then pointed to her.

  She coughed out a laugh of delight and disbelief. You’re crazy, she mouthed to him.

  His lopsided grin said, Aren’t you going to let me in?

  She threw open the window and removed the screen. She
wore a T-shirt and baggy cotton pajama pants—baby blue with crescent moons. The outfit alone was a surefire sex deterrent; not to mention the added glamour of her reading glasses and her hair hanging half over them, yet he looked her up and down with such hunger that she almost passed out on the spot.

  “Shush, shush,” she cautioned, giggling as Cavin climbed through the window. He seemed huge landing on the narrow bed. Bits of bark scattered on the sheets and on the floor. He smelled like the outdoors, and his clothing was cold. “You’re half-frozen,” she whispered.

  “I was hoping you’d warm me up.” He wrinkled his nose. “What is that odor? A chemical?”

  “Polish remover.” She’d thrown acetone-soaked cotton balls in the trash can. “See, usually I’m a pale-pink kind of girl, but last week my nail lady told me I was too careful, too unadventurous. ‘You need sexy.’ The next thing I knew, my nails were ‘A Little Too Hot’ coral. Turns out it was way too hot.” She wriggled her toes. “Nun’s feet. Now I can resist you.”

  His grin was downright devilish. “Think so?”

  She gently but firmly pushed him backward. His abs were hard with just the right amount of sexy give. “I tried to get you to resist me, and obviously I can’t. I try to resist you, and I can’t do that, either.”

  His eyes sparkled. “Such is the struggle of all women I encounter. Any planet. Any star system. When I’m near, they cannot control themselves.”

  “I need a bigger room.” Jana grabbed a pillow and hurled it at him. “Because it’s too small for your ego.”

  “Is there not a Terran phrase—size matters?”

  “That doesn’t refer to ego.” She grabbed another pillow, backing up.

  “If not ego, then what?” The wicked curve to his lips assured her he already knew the answer.

  She flung the pillow at him. He tried to catch her. Laughing, she ducked and pirouetted out of his reach. But he caught her hand and pulled her close. They spun like a pair of dancers before bumping up against the wall.

  His muscular thighs corralled her legs as they grinned at each other, stifling their laughter, trying to keep from waking the family. It was playful and wild and fun. “You didn’t lose that girl, Jana, the girl you were,” he said. “She’s right here, here with me.” His expression was so open, so unguarded, it grabbed at her heart. He kissed her, lightly, tenderly, playfully kissing her lips, her nose, her brows. “Your grandfather will give me a whipping if he finds me here.”

  “True. Forget his offer to help you save the world. He’ll be too busy running you off the property.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time. I had to leave the treehouse pretty quickly that night he came looking for you.”

  “After you kissed me. Good thing he didn’t know.” Linking her arms around his waist, she lost herself in another endless kiss. The kiss was hotter than she’d expected, and she melted into a sizzling pile of limp bones in his arms.

  “You’d better go.” She ran her fingertips across his soft mouth. “Before I don’t let you.”

  He drew her into a hug, stroking her hair, and she molded her body to his. They fit together without trying. Then the events of the past two days caught up to her, and she yawned. “I’m so tired.”

  He led her back to the bed, picking up the scattered pillows as he went. “We will enjoy more time together. But for now, sleep is more important.”

  Sleep was important because he’d need all his wits about him—her too. At this very moment, his government was combing the stars, looking for him, and an assassin was in the shadows here on Earth doing the same thing. And now she and Cavin were about to go public with the greatest story in human history, which put him at the mercy of the people of Earth too.

  There was a real risk of losing him, and he’d needed her to understand that, to be prepared for the worst.

  After Cavin sneaked away, she closed the curtains and fell face first into the comforter, letting it swallow her up. She could still feel the echo of his heart thumping under her hand, reminding her of his courage with every beat. Reminding her of the heart and the courage she would have to find within herself tomorrow when she’d take the next steps to bring Cavin’s warning to the rest of Earth.

  The REEF stalked down the street where the EMP had originated. He detected faint traces of energy that could only be from Coalition equipment. His target was near. But where? He stopped periodically to take measurements. His idea of acquiring Earth clothing had served him well. Not only did the local Earthlings ignore him, they avoided him altogether, crossing to the other side of the street and casting him nervous glances. He was only a few inches over six foot tall and in perfect physical condition, but with no scars to speak of or fearsome weapons that were visible, he didn’t understand why they were so afraid. He was dressed like them, was he not?

  The REEF realized there was something wrong with the way he had dressed. His attire may have been appropriate where he’d spent the night, but not here. He removed the necklaces from around his neck. Not a single individual he’d spied on this street had sported such decorative clusters. He crushed them in his fist and, with a burst of energy, powdered them.

  Immediately, dizziness made his head swirl. His vision dimmed, and a piercing whine filled his ears. He took a staggering step forward to gain his balance. Were his energy reserves so low that a simple act such as destroying the necklaces drained him?

  He shook it off, set his jaw and pressed on, looking for the source for the energy pulse. There. He stopped in front of a large brown dwelling. Readings confirmed that his target was here—or had been here.

  An odd yipping sound caught his attention. He increased the volume of his auditory implants. He could not identify the sound or its source. Through partially open window coverings, he saw something darting back and forth across what appeared to be the top of a piece of furniture—a couch.

  He zoomed in on the strange sight. It was a creature of some sort. Moisture fogged the window, obscuring flashes of white teeth.

  Frowning, the REEF accessed his computer:

  Species: Canine, Earth.

  Breed: Chihuahua.

  Purpose: Undetermined

  Weight: 4 pounds, 7 ounces.

  He dismissed the creature as a potential danger. Nothing of that infinitesimal size would be a threat to him.

  Behind the dwelling was an azure, rectangular pool for swimming, an area of lawn and dozens of potted planets. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw what resembled a small, golden missile shoot through a small opening in the rear door. It was the Chihuahua.

  The little beast came at him, brown eyes wide, blazing with fury. And wholly oblivious to the danger into which it had hurtled.

  Chapter Ten

  The enraged creature lunged at the REEF and sank its teeth into his pants leg. He didn’t feel a thing through his armor, only incessant tugging at his ankle as he stalked up to the rear doors of the dwelling. REEF disarmed the lock by using first his see-through vision and then his gauntlet to manipulate the lock components. It was routine procedure he’d done countless times, but when he slipped inside and shut the door behind him, the nearly constant whine in his ears surged to a screech. He felt the wall hitting his back, wondered stupidly how it could be. When he opened his eyes, he realized it wasn’t the wall that had hit his back, but his back hitting the floor when he blacked out.

  He climbed to his knees, stayed there until he stabilized physically. What was happening to him? A simple act of opening a lock had knocked him out cold.

  He realized the snarling Chihuahua was dangling from his forearm by its fangs. He shook it loose as he walked inside.

  The dwelling was rich in deep hues that reminded him of gourmet delights, the earthy color of ebbe bark, the furry underside of icquit leaves. Vivid memories flickered then disappeared. It happened on occasion—these vestiges from the few years spent as a normal youngster on his homeworld before he left to become a bioengineered combatant. The scents he couldn’t identify, b
ut the spicy sweetness in this place was extraordinarily pleasing. He breathed deep. Then caught himself. It was not his place to feel such things. Not in the middle of a hunt.

  All the while, the annoying pet danced around his boots, alternately tearing at his pants and nearly tripping him as he paused to study a grouping of two-dimensional images enclosed in wood frames. A woman with a glowing smile and thick, shining dark brown hair stood alone in one, her head tossed to the side, her luxuriant hair spilling over one shoulder.

  Was this the female Caydinn had escaped with? If so, he could see why. Her curvy body was as lush as her hair. The creamy tops of her breasts were visible above the neckline of her shirt, and she seemed to be laughing, teasing him, luring him into her private world of warmth and happiness. A man could lose himself in a woman like her—and be a fortunate man indeed…

  A man. Not a REEF. Focus on your task, assassin.

  Weapons drawn, he turned in a slow circle. He tasted the air, listened, observed, using both his faltering robotic senses and the human ones upon which he’d grown increasingly more dependent over the past few days. The scent of this place was so intoxicating he could get drunk on it.

  He’d never been drunk. Yet the thought had come. What was happening to his systems? If the malfunctions were due to the crash, he would have been healed by now, or nearly so.

  An incessant yipping pierced his brain. The REEF used his foot to shove the irksome beast away. The Chihuahua slid across the wood floor and spun into the wall. In an instant, it was back on its feet, claws scrabbling for purchase as it launched its heaving, scrawny body at him. He heard his pants rip. The Chihuahua tore off a piece of the fabric, shaking it, and returned for another mouthful.

  Enough. He aimed his gauntlet at the pet. In a whirl of blue-white energy, the creature lifted off the floor. He floated it higher—up toward the ceiling. The little dog pedaled its legs, as determined as ever to attack him. Its mouth dripped with foam. “Stay,” he commanded it in its language.