Now, she had an alien in her bed. A big, tall, frighteningly beautiful alien harnessed in leather and jewels lay on her grandmother's handmade quilt very possibly dreaming of taking over earth. After all, that's what aliens did, wasn't it? Aside from anal probes and seemingly pointless medical experiments, they came to earth to conquer, to ravage--maybe even to enslave humans. And she was harboring one and actually worrying that he might not survive.
Maybe she was the one who was dreaming.
She climbed to her feet with a slight groan. At twenty-seven, she was getting too old to spend the night on the floor. If he wasn't out of here by nightfall, she would have to sleep on the couch--or maybe make him sleep on the couch if she wanted to avoid a year's worth of visits to the chiropractor.
As she crossed the room, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror and decided she'd need more than spinal adjustments if she kept this up. Her dark brown hair had apparently spent the night trying to escape from the ponytail she'd worn for running. It stuck out in every direction. The circles under her dark blue eyes were just a shade lighter than the bruises she'd spent too many years trying to hide from her friends and neighbors.
Sheesh. It's a wonder he's not afraid of me.
With a sigh she picked up the basin and damp washcloths from the nightstand. With a brief backward glance to reassure herself that he was still breathing, she quietly left the room.
The brass turnkey of the bedroom door caught her attention as she moved into the hallway. Should she lock him in? She remembered the length of his claws when he gripped her wrist. He could probably pick a lock with them, or tear the door off its hinges judging by the size of his biceps.
Why ask for trouble? If he woke while she was gone and thought he was a prisoner, he might be a little ... upset. If he was going to do something to her, an old wooden door wasn't going to stop him.
Alli made her way downstairs on shaky legs, afraid the creaking of the floorboards might wake him. She needed some quiet time to get her bearings and the buttery sunlight streaming through the kitchen window settled her nerves somewhat. The golden glow of early morning soothed her and made her feel almost normal. Wondering if her guest might be hungry, she rattled her way through the pantry.
There was next to nothing in the house to eat. Today was her biweekly trip into town for groceries so there was an ounce of orange juice left, no milk to speak of and a single egg in the carton in the fridge. It would have fueled her long enough to get to the store, but she imagined a body like his would need a lot more sustenance than that. Did she dare leave him alone in the house while she went shopping?
Could she trust he wouldn't come looking for her and end up in the middle of Main Street attracting a crowd? Probably. If he was smart enough to get to earth from another planet, he probably had a modicum of survival skills.
She hurried back upstairs and rummaged as quietly as possible through her closet for a clean pair of shorts and a comfortable tank top. She changed in the closet, just in case her movements woke him, but when she emerged he was still asleep, obviously exhausted from his ordeal.
How did one wake a sleeping alien? Very carefully, she supposed.
Gently she brushed the smooth skin of his forehead, amazed by the intense heat. She hoped it was his natural body temperature and not a fever. When he opened his eyes, he seemed lucid, though he let out a low growl as he poked at his wound experimentally.
"I'm going to get food," Alli said, enunciating the words carefully. She pointed to her mouth as she spoke, then toward the fluttering curtains. His eyes followed her hand and she wondered if she'd just communicated to him that she planned to jump out the window.
He eyed her suspiciously.
"Food," she repeated. "I won't be gone long. You..." She pointed to him. "Stay here." She pointed to the bed. He followed each gesture, his brow ridge wrinkling in consternation.
"Or, you can do whatever you want because I can't stop you. But if you stay here and wait, I'll bring you back something to eat. Okay?"
He looked at the window quizzically and muttered something in his language. He didn't seem upset or confused though and finally she just backed out of the bedroom and went on her way. If he was gone when she got back, so be it, but something told her he would be right where she left him. She wasn't going to get rid of him that easily.
Chapter Four
Alli moved quietly through the back aisle of the Quick Stop Pantry on Chestnut Street. She kept her head down as she filled a green plastic shopping basket with the essentials. Bread, eggs, milk, packaged cold cuts and canned soup overflowed the basket. She didn't have time to be particular. Much as she wanted to make a longer trip to the supermarket out on Route 27, she was afraid to leave her guest alone for so long, and more afraid that someone would be able to tell by the look on her face exactly what was going on.
Up at the front counter, Mr. Frye was haranguing Rose Corso, the manager of Quick Stop. Rose was laughing as usual, never perturbed by the old man's wild stories. Alli hoped he would leave before she got to the counter only because she didn't want to get caught in one of his longwinded discussions. Mr. Frye could talk for days on end about any subject that came up and had a habit of looking bereft when people finally begged off or tore themselves away from him. Normally Alli indulged him once in a while and spent an hour nodding politely as he rambled, but today she couldn't spare a moment. Her heart had lodged at the bottom of her windpipe and she feared she'd pass out if she didn't get home fast.
She rounded the corner of the back aisle just as Mr. Frye began tapping his cane on the linoleum to punctuate his sentence. The words caught her ear and Alli froze when her addled brain processed what she heard.
"Jeb saw 'em too ... says there was at least three of them up there'n the woods last night. He says he hit one square in the chest and it just up and walked away howling like a demon."
Alli almost lost her grip on the basket.
She'd been so focused on her 'patient' that she'd totally forgotten that he must have gotten the bullet wound from somewhere. The person who shot him had to have gotten a pretty good look.
"That old coot probably saw a bear," Rose replied. "Half the time he can't tell his ass from a hole in the ground anyway."
"This was no bear," Mr. Frye insisted. "They're aliens. Swarms of them. There's an invasion going on right under our noses."
Rose's laughter was polite as usual. Nothing fazed the woman, especially Mr. Frye. "I don't care about aliens, Ted, as long as I don't have to hire any."
"I'm talkin' about space aliens!" Mr. Frye corrected with a flourish of his cane. "One day we're all gonna be their slaves. They're here to capture us and use us as cheap labor in their power plants."
As Mr. Frye raved, Alli inched toward the counter, her mind reeling. Good God, what if he was right? When Rose and Mr. Frye saw her, she winced inwardly. Determined to escape as quickly as possible, she pasted on an artificially bright smile as she set her basket on the counter. "Hey, Alli! How are you doin' today?" Rose asked as she pulled items out of the overstuffed basket.
"Fine, Mrs. Corso ... just fine."
"This young lady right here should be very careful," Mr. Frye said with another tap of his cane. "Alli, it's not safe livin' up there on that mountain all by yourself, you know. Do you still keep a shotgun under your bed?"
Alli blushed and riveted her eyes to the counter. "Mr. Frye! What's under my bed is not up for public discussion." She tried to put a light twist on her words, but they caught in her throat. Somehow the old man had gotten the notion that Alli was a survivalist. Perhaps it was because she had lived alone for so long and only mixed with a few of the locals in town. He often asked her, as part of casual conversation, if she'd shot any trespassers, and he seemed to believe she was always armed for bear. Normally she found his delusions amusing. Many of his strange notions came right from the plot of the Friday Night Movie on Channel 12. Every now and again Alli even played along because it seemed to give hi
m pleasure to think she was a tough wilderness woman who was ready for anything.
"Leave the girl alone, Ted." Rose clucked her tongue as she rang up Alli's order. "You'll spook her with your crazy talk about aliens."
"You should be spooked, Alli." Mr. Frye sounded apologetic as he placed one wrinkled hand on her arm. "There's something strange running around up them woods. And they'll be coming for the pretty ones first."
Rose snorted and started bagging the groceries. "Get a grip, Ted."
"Ain't you got nuthin' to worry about, Rose," Mr. Frye muttered with a wink at Alli. She feigned an amused giggle and rolled her eyes as Mr. Frye lurched away and left the store.
Rose handed her the grocery bag. "Twenty-five even, sweetie. I tossed a Hershey bar in there for you. No charge."
"Thanks, Mrs. Corso," Alli said as she handed over the cash. "You ... uh ... don't think Mr. Frye's telling the truth this time, do you?"
Rose laughed. "I knew he'd spook you. Don't you worry, hun. Ted spent too many years drinkin' his own moonshine. He doesn't have two brain cells left to rub together."
"Moonshine?" Alli let out a sigh. Mr. Frye could talk all he wanted to, no one would believe an old moonshiner.
"You pay him no mind, Alli. You have a good weekend, now." Rose waved as Alli collected her change and her bag and left the store.
Though her hands shook a little bit, Alli managed to get back in the car and get on the mountain road that led out of town to her farmhouse. Maybe, just maybe, she thought as she pulled into the gravel drive, he was all a figment of my imagination and he's gone now. Please, please, please.
* * * *
Not only was her guest still there, he was standing in the middle of the living room when Alli struggled through the door with the groceries.
She almost dropped the bag and ran. If he could get up and move around, he certainly was strong enough to be dangerous.
She stopped halfway in the door, her heart racing as he eyed her with a mixture of curiosity and what appeared to be relief.
"F-food," she stammered and tilted the bag at him for his perusal. "Are you hungry?"
He grunted. That was obviously the universal male affirmative. He took two slow steps and peered into the bag as she pulled the front door shut behind her. The musky, earthy scent of him reached her, carried across the scant distance between them by the overwhelming heat of his skin.
While Allie tried to maintain her composure, he sniffed inside the bag and reached in. She rolled her eyes when he pulled out the chocolate bar.
"That's mine," she told him, but he only gave her vacant glance and sniffed the brown wrapper experimentally.
"Oh, all right. You take that and go eat it--upstairs." She pointed to the staircase. "You don't want to be down here with all these windows. If someone should show up, they'll see you. Now go. I'll make something to eat and bring it up to you."
He stared at her.
"Go." She pointed again then placed her hand on his uninjured shoulder and gently prodded him in the direction of the staircase.
To her complete surprise, he obeyed, candy bar in hand. She didn't move from the spot until he had disappeared up the stairs. It was damn near impossible to tear her gaze away from the magnificent view of his heavily muscled back, and the narrow, tight butt that was visible when the back of his loincloth swung from side to side.
She couldn't believe he'd recovered so quickly. She wondered, as she headed for the kitchen, what he'd been doing while she was gone. Mr. Frye's words echoed in her mind. Maybe he had contacted his mother ship to let them know a crazy human girl had given him a place to stay and was out getting him his breakfast and they could all come crash at her place while they planned their invasion.
Good Lord, why can't I wake up? This has to be a dream.
* * * *
A mound of scrambled eggs and a stack of buttered toast teetered on the bed tray along with glasses of orange juice, water and milk. Alli surveyed the feast as she climbed the stairs and wondered if he would be interested in eating any of it. He looked more like the raw steak type, but she wasn't about to break her food budget for him yet. This would have to do. She'd made enough for an army figuring he'd need an awful lot of fuel for all those muscles.
She thought about the full-length view she'd gotten as he had retreated up the stairs. His hands were huge, twice the span of hers, and his thighs were like tree trunks. She thought of his jewels--the jewels on his belt. They looked like emeralds and rubies. The leather was pale in contrast to the rich blue-black of his skin. She remembered the soft feel of the fine fur under her hands and wondered what it would feel like everywhere on her body.
She rolled her eyes. Get over it, now Alli. He's an alien. Just remember, he's an alien. Her plan was simple and she had to stick to it. Give him something to eat and gently, but firmly explain to him, using sign language if necessary, that it was time to go back to whatever galaxy he came from, then hope he didn't plan to take her along as cheap labor. Mr. Frye didn't know the half of it. And here I am cooking for him! What's wrong with me?
He had stretched out on the bed again and was surrounded by pieces of brown chocolate bar wrapper and silver foil. He hissed something at her when she maneuvered the wide bed tray through the door and rolled gracefully to a sitting position. She saw him wince and one hand went to his wound, which was still raw and pink but had begun to close up now that the bullet had come out.
The aroma of the eggs and toast drew his attention as she set the tray next to him on the bed. He looked at the food and nudged the quivering mountain of eggs with one claw.
"Watch," she said. She scooped up some eggs on a fork and put them in her mouth. "Mmmm."
Needs salt, she thought but kept her tight smile in place.
He picked up the other fork and mimicked her movements, right down to the loopy grin. Alli wasn't sure whether to be shocked or relieved. She watched as he wolfed down the rest of the eggs with a vengeance and decided on relief. If he can eat eggs, he won't need to eat ... me, she thought. The toast proved to be less appealing. He made a disparaging noise after one bite and dropped the slice unceremoniously on the tray.
"Not into carbs, I see," she said with a shrug.
She handed him the glass of milk and he drank it in a very human fashion, which surprised her even though she was glad he didn't lap it up.
"Now what?" Alli asked when he'd finished the milk and the water. She drank the orange juice herself while he examined the utensils on the tray. "I don't suppose you could just call your ship and ask them to beam you up?"
He looked at her, the heavy brows wrinkling.
"Didn't think so. That would be too easy."
Alli rose and began to pace, acutely aware of his scrutiny. Finally she turned to him and tapped her chest with one finger.
"Alliana," she said. "I'm Alli" She pointed to him. "And you are?"
He hissed a complex series of sounds that she was pretty sure was an answer, even though she had no hope of pronouncing any of it. His pink tongue was doing some impressive calisthenics behind those sharp white teeth, but none of it looked vaguely reproducible with human lips.
She nodded ruefully. "So much for your name."
Alli involuntarily backed up a step when he reached for his belt. One long finger dipped behind a red jewel and retrieved a small object from what must have been a hidden pouch in the leather. He held out his hand and Alli moved tentatively forward to see what he had produced.
When she placed her hand beneath his, an octagonal gemstone fell into her palm.
It was brilliant blue and so deeply faceted that it sparkled in the pale sunlight that filtered through the old lace curtains.
"Very nice." She brought the small stone closer to her face for examination. If it was a sapphire, it was probably worth a few hundred dollars. "You don't have to pay me," she said, "Unless you want steak, then we'll talk about chipping in for the food bill." She handed the gem back to him as a sign of good faith.
The expression on his sleek features was of exasperation. He grabbed her hand and put the jewel forcefully back into her palm. He pointed to his mouth.
"More food?" she asked. He'd certainly gone at the eggs like there was no tomorrow. He was probably still hungry. The fact that he seemed to want to pay his way heartened her. If he had plans to enslave earth, he wouldn't be trying to buy a second helping of scrambled eggs.
"It's okay," she said. "I don't really need--" He grabbed her wrist and yanked her forward. She fell across his legs with a gasp then froze, holding her breath. With a very human sounding sigh, he pointed once again to his mouth, then to her mouth. He traced a tingling line gently down her neck with the curved claw of his index finger and tapped the cleft between her breasts. Alli watched him, frozen. Next he pointed to his ears.
"You've lost me," she admitted.
Did he want to kiss her or listen to her heart? Honestly, she'd have let him do either at this point. Just the brief contact had her shivering. He might be from another planet, but when he touched her, her body responded in ways she'd forgotten it could.
He seemed to consider for a moment and finally he took the jewel delicately between two fingers and brought it to her lips.
"You want me to eat it?"
She couldn't be sure, but she thought he actually nodded. Yeah, right. She palmed the gem and smiled at him.
"Well, thanks, maybe later. Right now, I've got to go clean this up." She indicated the tray. "You rest." She pointed to the pillows. "I'll come back later."
She rose and smoothed her T-shirt, which had pushed up exposing her stomach. He watched her hands and she thought she detected a hint of disappointment in his expression. Alli regarded him thoughtfully for a moment and then, out of sheer selfish indulgence, she ran her hands along his shoulders and pushed him back to the pillows so he would get the idea that she wanted him to lie down and behave while she went about her business. The movement brought the hem of her shirt up again, and the brush of his silky skin against hers sent a jolt of sexual awareness through her. His fingers, only inches from her thigh, twitched slightly.
Hunters Moon Page 2
