Alien-Under-Cover

by Maree Dry

They had allowed the man to continue with his activities this long only so they could find out exactly who he dealt with.

  Zurian knew he should focus on his mission but thoughts of taking Julia to his dwelling intruded. If all went well, by tonight he could have her in his bed. His fascination with Julia had turned him into a deviant. He wanted to kiss her, maybe try other deviant human practices.

  He forced his attention back to his discussion with Zacar. “Going under cover--that is the humans’ strange term for what I am about to do”

  “Sometimes their ugly language is most apt,” Zacar said.

  “I find it confusing. When I visited my breeder last week--” He would never tire of calling her that. “--she said I was like a gnat. I looked it up and I do not at all look like a gnat.”

  Zacar rubbed the ridge on his head. “It doesn’t make sense to me either. While you are dealing with the reverend, find out everything you can about him. Religious figures make me very uneasy.”

  In every galaxy, on almost every planet they conquered, they came across zealots. Experience had taught Zacar that they could not be dealt with easily. Killing them made them martyrs so their followers tended to grow and not dissipate.

  The reverend had taken all the undesirable elements in town and united them, calling them “The Coming Sect,” and had set himself up as their prophet. He then proceeded to terrorize the town unchecked.

  Now, I have to deal with the reverend before I can take my breeder home.

  Chapter 3

  Julia shuddered and staggered to her couch. Ever since that demon had started to haunt her, she hadn’t felt safe anymore. The warm cream-colored curtains and terracotta tiles in her home no longer enclosed her in a soothing, safe environment. Would she have to run before she could escape another visit from that creature?

  Could he be an experiment gone wrong? Even though he insisted he wasn’t a demon, the ridge on his head, his pitch black eyes, and the pronounced raised veins that crossed what she could see of his green body made her think he really was one. One that wore some kind of uniform and scared her. How many of them were out there? If only she could talk to someone about it. Apart from the fact that she didn’t want to be thought of as crazy, she needed to keep a low profile. If some journalist heard about a crazy woman seeing demons and reported it, she could end up dead.

  “I’ve managed to hide from my psychotic family for almost five years and what happens?” she moaned at the walls. “A creature from hell haunts me.”

  Could he really find her anywhere she ran to? Julia clutched her arms around herself, battling the very strong need to pack her stuff and run. He’d be back. She got up and padded over to the fur lying in the middle of her living room. She poked it with her shoe and couldn’t even budge it. Crouching, she carefully touched it. The hair was that of an animal, but the blue color had to be artificial. The demon had left it like some kind of offering.

  In return for what?

  Natalie had told her about bears. Extinct now for nearly two centuries, the creatures had sounded magnificent. And big. But the demon had carried it around as if it weighed nothing more than a blanket.

  He was so strong. And taller than any man she’d ever seen. If only he’d been human size, she could’ve fought him. His reflexes were scary fast. In all the months he’d been haunting her, she never managed to shoot him. Julia shuddered and clutched her arms tighter around herself. His eyes reminded her of burning tar pits. She knew exactly why he came to her. When he looked at her body, those tar pits boiled. Whatever he was, he saw her as a woman he desired. Whenever she fought him, he found a way to rub his body against hers. His muscles were rock hard. Held that close to him, she could see the raised veins on the creature’s body pulse. Julia shivered. He was a creature with a body most men would envy and eyes that promised long, hot hours of pure sin.

  But she didn’t have the luxury of time to stress about his visits. She had to find Sarah and rescue her. Charles might think Julia would run and leave her friend to the reverend’s mercies, but she couldn’t do that.

  If she did manage to find Sarah and the reverend didn’t kill them in the process, they’d probably both end up on the run for the rest of their lives. Julia groaned and slapped her forehead. She’d managed to live quietly for almost five years as plain Julia Smith. She even managed to stay under the reverend’s radar. Julia stood up and paced, her heels clicking against her prized tiles.

  Now she ran the risk of drawing his attention, something nobody in this town wanted. There’d been rumors lately of strange rituals and orgies, of people disappearing.

  If she could manage to get into his house, she might find Sarah. Or at least a record of what they’d done with her. Julia could plant some bugs and listen in on their conversations. She looked down at her cream-colored pants. They would stain if she had to do any climbing. And her sandals were not the most sturdy.

  What should she wear for breaking and entering?

  ***

  An hour later, Julia crouched next to the only tree behind the reverend’s place. Natalie had planted it a few years ago. It wasn’t very big and didn’t have many leaves, but at least it afforded her some cover.

  “This is the stupidest thing I’ve done in a long while,” she muttered as she ran over to the back window and crouched beneath it. She chanced a quick look and saw a room that could be a study.

  She’d dressed in her skintight black jeans and long sleeved black T-shirt and had hidden her blonde hair beneath a black woolen cap. For one moment, as she stared at her image in the mirror, she’d looked like her mother used to when she went out on a job.

  Julia jumped when she heard a sound behind her. The demon or the reverend’s thugs? She swung around and grabbed her pistol out of her pants, but the yard was still deserted.

  She put the pistol back in the waistband of her black jeans, fisted her trembling hands together, and shuddered. If the reverend caught her snooping around his house, he wouldn’t play with her like the demon seemed to be doing. She glanced back in the direction of her house. Would it be so bad to go back and be safe? To leave Sarah’s rescue to law enforcement.

  Julia clutched her head in her hands. She had to know if they kept Sarah here. If she left and remained safe, she would never stop blaming herself for anything that might happen to Sarah. With a sigh, she focused on the window again.

  “Hold on, Sarah, I’m coming,” she whispered in a hopeless prayer.

  Julia peeked over the windowsill. The wind blowing through the window parted the curtains just enough for her to see a desk and the very large man with long blond hair and broad shoulders sitting there. His head turned slightly. She ducked down quickly and took deep breaths.

  It couldn’t be.

  Her mind was playing tricks on her. There was no reason to suspect that John could’ve been sent to do business with the reverend. She rose to peek through the slit in the curtains again but dropped and whirled when something touched her hair.

  Nothing but an empty yard.

  It must have been the wind. God, she was getting paranoid. Maybe it wasn’t even him. Taking a deep breath, she glanced over the window sill again.

  With his profile to her, he appeared like a large, muscled nightmare, fiddling with something silver that shined in his hands. When the white noise in her ears stopped, for a moment, all she could think to do was to pack her bags, to run. No, she didn’t need to pack her bags. She’d grab her TC and steal a car, or run on foot, or even crawl out of town. One, two, three--breathe in. One, two, three, four--breathe out. She had to stay calm. Breathing in again, counting, she inhaled and exhaled for a moment. And then she carefully peered over the windowsill again.

  He dwarfed the chair he sat in. The steel base was slightly bent as if it would crack under his weight. It’d been five years, but there was no mistaking her family’s enforcer. What was he doing here?

  He’d almost found her once before. Twice another enforcer had found her. Both times, she’d w
ondered if her father had sent them. Or if he’d told them what she’d seen.

  She had to get away. He would kill her the moment he saw her. Shortly after she had left home, one of the family enforcers found her hiding in a grotto apartment in Chicago. She’d gotten away but he had fallen over a railing during their struggle. Then her family’s muscle had found her twice more. Both times, she’d barely escaped alive. She’d eluded them three times now, and her family didn’t even tolerate one failure. All the remaining enforcers would be very motivated to find her.

  Did Denver collect a cut of the profits here? Or did they find out where she was hiding in this dusty little town.

  Through the crack between the two curtains, she saw John lift his head and she knew it definitely was him sitting in the reverend’s opulent study. He rose to pace. Her heartbeat changed and kept pace with those heavy slow footsteps. She couldn’t breathe.

  The reverend walked in.

  “So, do we have an arrangement,” the reverend asked, swaggering over to the desk. Was the man blind? Couldn’t he somehow sense he was in the presence of a killer more dangerous than he could possibly fathom? Even with the evil the reverend did in this town, he had no idea of the level of danger John brought with him. She kept perfectly still, very much trapped, watching the reverend and a vicious mafioso.

  “Yes, we have an arrangement.” John spoke with a different inflection than she remembered. The rhythm more clipped, frighteningly expressionless. Though he’s said only those few words, his voice was more compelling than she remembered.

  “I have a large shipment and plenty of offers,” the reverend said, his voice breaking slightly. “If you’re interested, I need an answer today.”

  Now she heard the fear and she smiled with grim satisfaction. The reverend had gotten into bed with the devil. He would learn it wouldn’t be a “wham-bam, thank you, reverend,” experience.

  “That is why I am here. To ensure you do not accidentally lose some merchandise,” the big blond said with absolutely no emotion.

  This was strange. By now, John should’ve beaten the reverend senseless simply for his tone of voice. John had never been the kind of enforcer who would tolerate insolence. And what was up with the stilted speech? And the expressionless face? She couldn’t remember ever seeing him without either a sneer or an expression of twisted fury.

  “You talk funny,” another voice said.

  Julia ducked down a little more. She hadn’t seen anyone else enter the room.

  “I don’t care how he talks as long as he gives us a fair price.”

  If he wasn’t careful, the reverend would find himself executed by panga, the preferred method of killing for the Denver Group. She snorted before she could stop herself and covered her nose and mouth with her hands. Denver Group, what a fancy word for a bunch of vicious criminals.

  As a teenager, she’d loved to think of herself as a mafia princess--privileged and destined for big things. Reality had not been as glamorous as her dreams.

  “Be ready to view the merchandise in an hour,” the reverend said with bravado.

  She heard him walk out. Normally, he was oily smooth, hiding his evil nature behind a smarmy smile. He had reason to be unsettled by John, who showed absolutely no reaction to the swagger and aggressive talk. She’d seen John beat a man to death for daring to question him--slowly, for a very long time, enjoying his victim’s pain.

  John sat back down with his back to her--looking down, presumably at the gadget in his hands. The quick glimpse she’d gotten of it earlier showed her only a slim silver disk she’d love to see up close. Her TC was the best she could afford without alerting the family, who knew of her passion for TC technology. Was John’s device connected to the TC network? What about the information capacity? Even from where she crouched, she could see it was unlike any other TC tablet available on the market.

  She closed her eyes. If “merchandise” meant people, tonight John planned to buy innocent human beings as if they had no more value than cattle. Julia fisted her hands until her nails bit into her palms. She’d promised herself she would never be part of anything like that again. She didn’t want to be here. Was it too much to ask to be safe?

  Her feet wouldn’t move--wouldn’t take her away from this terrible place.

  She could go to Adam, the sheriff, but he wouldn’t do anything. To be fair, he was just one man surrounded by a corrupt town, but she knew he never even tried to protect the people of this town against the reverend and his cronies.

  Someone should have done something about them a long time ago.

  John got up and left so fast, she blinked in confusion. He used to move slow, almost lumbering. His strength and viciousness was what made him dangerous. His one good characteristic was his refusal to take drugs while his peers indulged. Julia remembered how proud her father was of that. He approved of John and wanted Julia to marry him. Could that have changed in the last five years? Did John take drugs now?

  She shuddered and peeked again. He was gone, the room empty. Another handheld device lay on the table. What if it contained the information she needed? Sarah might be among the merchandise. Julia hesitated then climbed through the window. After a second’s deliberation, she decided to leave the window open. If she heard footsteps, she could dive through it and maybe have time to close it again behind her. She’d have a quick look and get out. Fast. Her heart hammered so hard she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to hear if anyone approached the study.

  Wishing John had left his silver gadget, Julia accessed the black hand-sized tablet on the desk. The idiots didn’t even have passwords on it. The third folder was labeled sales and when she opened it, she saw Sarah’s name. At a soft sound outside in the hallway, Julia’s head jerked and she glanced frantically at the door. It remained quiet. Exhaling softly, she quickly scrolled down the transactions, desperate to hurry. John could be back anytime and she really didn’t want to be caught in here by that thug.

  They had descriptions next, demands for certain types. A transaction for a small blonde with blue eyes was marked down three days ago. She had to read it a few times before she understood. A thousand credits paid to a Mrs. Johanna Blaine, stepmother to Sarah Blaine. Julia bent over the wastebasket and retched.

  She wiped the back of her hand over her mouth. “That bitch! She--” She hastily cut off her words and stilled, ready to bolt. No heavy footsteps approached. She looked down at the entry in the tablet. This explained why the reverend would sell the daughter of one of his most devout followers. Sarah’s mother had wanted rid of her.

  “How could she?” Julia fisted her hands, she’d confront that old witch if it was the last thing she did.

  A breeze slithered through her hair and every nerve ending in her body came to life. The door opened. She looked up straight into the eyes of a nightmare. Something about the way he walked toward her tugged at her memory. Something important.

  She stared into those familiar blue eyes and her life didn’t flash in front of her eyes. All the ways she would suffer before allowed to die did. Who would look for Sarah now?

  “Hallo, Julia,” her family’s cruelest enforcer said.

  Chapter 4

  Her stomach curdled and every particle of blood in her veins froze. Her feet came unstuck, and she tried to move back. He grabbed her, held her against him. His large palm, warm and vaguely smelling of ground coffee beans, covered her mouth and nose. She screamed at her limbs to move, to struggle.

  “No sound.” His breath tickled her ear, whispering in a mockery of a lover’s caress.

  She stared up at him. Blue eyes as chilling as dry ice burned into her with searing cold. She’d been afraid most of her grown-up life. When she left her family, when she came to this town, when the demon appeared--but never had she felt this absolute terror, pushing out all rational thought. She dipped her head and her hair fell forward, shrouding her terror from those horrific eyes. If he didn’t want the reverend to know she was there, she was good with tha
t plan. Maybe she could still get away from him. Lull him into thinking she would comply.

  With her clasped firmly against his warm body, he lifted her off her feet when she stumbled. He rushed over to the window, moving so fast that, for a moment, the room became a blur. No more lumbering. Did that mean drugs?

  “Why are we using the w--”

  “Quiet.”

  The muscles in his shoulders bunched as he lifted her effortlessly through the window. He’d always been big and muscled but now he seemed unnaturally strong. He’d also always repulsed her. Now, her body broke out in pleasurable goose bumps where he touched her and her hands almost enjoyed the sensation of his skin when she clutched his forearm. The stress of this day must have messed with her senses.

  Her feet landed gently on the straggly grass and she immediately turned to get away from him as fast as her legs could carry her. She’d go far and fast and hide while he came through the window behind her. She’d barely turned to run when he jumped head first through the window with a speed that left her blinking. He rolled and landed on his feet, rose with fluid grace to tower over her. If she hadn’t been so frightened, she would’ve admired his graceful movements. Again something tugged at her memory.

  “I’m not going back.” She held her hands up, palms out. This must be her day to confront demons.

  The green demon with the pitch black eyes liked to play with her, enjoyed her attempts to kill him. The demon with cold blue eyes standing in front of her was truly evil.

  Without answering, he took her arm and rushed in the direction of her house. Something strange about the way he moved tugged at her memory again but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She had bigger concerns. She had to find out where they kept Sarah before escaping from him.

  “Did you sell my friend Sarah?”

  “Quiet, human.”

  She half-lifted a hand, opened her mouth to comment, closed it. Human?