Duration of Stay (The Department of Homeworld Security Book 6)

by Cassandra Chandler

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  About the Author

  Look for More Titles by Cassandra Chandler

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  About the Author

  Look for More Titles by Cassandra Chandler

  Duration of Stay

  The Department of Homeworld Security

  Book Six

  Cassandra Chandler

  Copyright Page

  You are a good person! You know that stealing is wrong. Remember, eBooks can’t be shared or given away. It’s against copyright law. So don’t download books you haven’t paid for or upload books in ways other people can access for free. That would be stealing.

  And you’re better than that.

  This book is pure fiction. All characters, places, names, and events are products of the author’s imagination or used solely in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to any people, places, things, or events that have ever existed or will ever exist is entirely coincidental.

  Duration of Stay

  The Department of Homeworld Security, Book Six

  Copyright © 2017 by Cassandra Chandler

  ISBN: 978-1-945702-25-9

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be used, transmitted, or reproduced in any manner or form without written permission from the author, except for brief quotations used in critical articles and reviews.

  First eBook edition: August 2017

  cassandra-chandler.com

  P.O. Box 91

  Mission, Kansas 66201

  Dedication

  For Joey N.—my writing bestie.

  Chapter One

  The windows of Brooke’s car were covered in fog. If she’d been sitting inside—maybe drinking one of the gazillion hot drinks she’d made for customers that day—it would make sense. But she was just getting off her shift, and her car had been parked in the nearly empty lot for hours.

  “Elliot, you asshole,” Brooke said. “Get out of my car and give me back my spare key.”

  Not that he’d need it to get in later. He knew that the back driver’s side door didn’t lock right anymore. She lined up her keys between her fingers, making sure the sharp edges pointed out like claws. He’d only been incredibly annoying since the breakup, but she wanted to be ready in case he’d finally gone off the deep end.

  She jerked open the door and let out a disgusted grunt. He was lying sort of curled up in the footwell, his dark hair masking his face.

  “Seriously, this is reaching entirely new levels of pathetic. It’s been three months. Get over it.”

  A sudden feeling of misgiving shivered through her. Had he cut his hair? And had he always been that tall? And buff?

  Her car was a piece of crap, but it was spacious. And he was suddenly taking up every inch of the available space.

  His legs were bent and he was hunched over with his arms wrapped around his torso. Her skin felt electrified as she realized that whoever this guy sleeping in the back seat of her car was, he wasn’t Elliot.

  She raised her key-studded hand. “What are you doing in my car?”

  The man lifted his head and turned to look at her. Her heart thudded in her chest.

  His dark hair was a little longer at the front, dusting across his forehead. It was short in the back—nothing getting in the way of her view of his shoulders, which were massive. He had a long, straight nose, perfectly curved lips, honey-brown eyes, and an angular jaw covered in a thick coat of stubble. He was absolutely gorgeous.

  The sweat coating his skin glistened faintly in the dim light. Why was he sweating when all he had on was a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt? He wasn’t even wearing shoes.

  She lowered her arm and stepped forward, poking her head into the back seat of her car. “Are you okay?”

  He was shaking violently, his whole body trembling. He held up a hand to her and his sleeve fell back enough for her to see his corded forearm—and the line of silver light circling it. His skin was glowing.

  “I won’t hurt you,” he said.

  His voice sent a frisson through her. It was deep and strong, even with the obvious strain in it. Who the heck was this guy? What was he?

  “You need help,” she said.

  “No doctors.”

  “Duh.”

  She slammed the door and quickly climbed into the driver’s seat. It took several tries, but her decrepit car finally started. She had almost walked that morning, but it was too cold even for the couple of blocks between her home and work. Before putting the car in gear, she looked over the bench seat into the back.

  “Do you promise you won’t try to eat my face off?” she said.

  “I won’t try to eat your face off.” He looked vaguely insulted at the idea. The furrows between his eyebrows deepened.

  Crap, even his forehead was sexy. How was that possible?

  “Or anything else?” she asked.

  “I’m not going to eat you.” This time, there was definite frustration in his tone.

  “Okay.”

  She turned back around and took a deep breath, then exhaled. This was like something out of a movie. Hopefully not a horror flick.

  As she pulled out of the parking lot, she said, “So what are you? A ghost? Fallen angel?”

  “Scorpiian.”

  “What, like a bug?”

  “I’m from Scorpii-2.”

  “Is that a company or something? Are you an android?” The silver glow could be some kind of LEDs in his body.

  He let out a frustrated grunt. “It’s a planet in the Scorpii system.”

  “Oh my God. You’re an alien.”

  “Yeah.”

  An alien. In the back seat of her car.

  “Are you having some kind of allergic reaction to our planet?”

  “What? Why would I…”

  “No offense, but you don’t look so good.”

  She turned into the parking lot for her apartment complex. Luckily, there was a spot right next to the stairs up to her apartment. At midday in the middle of the week, no one was around.

  “I mean, you look hot,” she said. “But you also look…hot.”

  “Thanks for clarifying.”

  She ignored the crack, though she was glad to know he understood sarcasm. That would make it easier to communicate.

  “Are you supposed to glow like that?” she said.

  “No.” He let out a groan and she heard him shift around more.

  “Crap, you’re not dying, are you?”

  She set the parking brake, but didn’t turn off the engine. She understood his desire to avoid any organization that might stuff him in a lab and experiment on him, but if it was a choice between that or death, he might have to reconsider the whole “no doctors” thing.

  “I’m not dying. I’m acclimating.”

  “So it is so
me kind of reaction.”

  He let out another frustrated sigh. It was easier to handle than the little pain noise he’d made.

  She stepped out into the frigid air, keeping her apartment key ready and wondering how she was going to get him up the stairs.

  “Mom always said I was a rescuer,” Brooke murmured. “If she could see me now.”

  The alien had managed to get himself out of the footwell and onto the back seat. He was dragging himself across the bench toward her. She opened his door and reached in to help him. His skin was burning hot.

  “You have a fever,” she said.

  “I’m acclimating.”

  “Right. Whatever.” She draped his arm over her shoulder and shut both car doors. “Let’s go.”

  He started to pull away from her, veering toward the mound of snow piled at the edge of the lot. “I need to lower my body temperature.”

  “If someone sees you lying in a pile of snow, they’ll call the cops.”

  Especially since he was still glowing. She could see more lines now that he was up—soft silver light gleaming around his neck, shoulders, and arms. There were even dim circles around his thighs that she could see faintly through his jeans.

  He let her take the lead, though he stumbled a few times. It seemed like he was mostly able to support his own weight, which was helpful. All that muscle would make him way too heavy for her to drag up the stairs. They made it up to her apartment without drawing any attention, and she unlocked the door and helped him inside.

  She slid the deadbolts and chain into place, just in case Elliot decided to show up unannounced—again. He needed to give her back her damned spare keys. If he walked in on Brooke while another guy was there… She didn’t have the energy to handle the tantrum he’d throw.

  She led the alien hottie further into her place. “The bathroom’s over here.”

  “My body doesn’t eliminate waste the way human bodies do,” he said.

  “Ew, really? Do you eat?”

  He didn’t answer her, probably because his body had started trembling violently again. If lowering his body temperature was necessary, they needed to get on that right away.

  There were a lot of ways she’d like to get on his body, alien or not.

  She dragged her attention back to the task at hand, pushing the other thoughts away. She was supposed to be helping the poor guy, not drooling over him. She kicked open the door to the bathroom.

  “We need to get you in the tub. I can get snow from outside to help you cool down.” She leaned him against a wall, then plugged the drain and started the cold water running.

  When she turned back to him, he’d already unbuttoned his shirt. He was even more built than she’d thought. His chest was broad, without an ounce of extra fat. His abdomen rippled with muscle, and dark hair cascaded down his chest and belly, disappearing into his jeans.

  “I’m trapped in this human form,” he said.

  “I can think of worse fates than being trapped in this one.”

  His shirt tangled around his arms as he tried to pull it off. He leaned heavily against the wall, as if just unbuttoning it had exhausted him. Lines of silver traced down the chiseled muscles of his abdomen, but they weren’t smooth, as she’d thought earlier. They were jagged, almost like scars. But if they were scars, it looked like he’d been torn limb from limb and reassembled.

  “Vapor pits,” he said.

  She shook her head. “I don’t understand. Do you need some vapor pits or something?” Not that she had any idea what that was.

  “It’s a…” He let out an aggravated grunt. “I’m angry.”

  “Oh, it’s a swear.” When he stared at her blankly, she said, “Next time, try, ‘fuck’ or ‘dammit’.”

  He glared at her, then tugged at his shirt.

  “Let me help you.” She peeled the shirt down the knotted muscle of his arms and then tossed it aside. As he braced himself against the wall, she reached around and unfastened his jeans.

  “Normally, I can just form whatever clothing I need,” he said. “This external material is impossible to manage.”

  “So, you’re some kind of shapeshifting alien?”

  He grunted. It wasn’t a denial.

  “You picked a good look.”

  She tugged his jeans past an ass that could be put on display in a museum, then dragged them over legs that surpassed her wildest fantasies. He had just the right amount of hair covering his perfectly sculpted thighs and toned calves.

  He stepped into the water as soon as he was free of his clothes, then slid down the wall. He let out a sigh as he sank into the water’s chilly embrace, not bothering to try to cover himself.

  The dark hair on his chest continued in a trail that led to the thicker triangle around his dick. The water was freezing. Wasn’t that all supposed to shrink in the cold?

  Wow…

  Not lusting after him was going to be a hell of a lot harder than she thought.

  Chapter Two

  “What’s your name?” the Earthling said.

  She was hovering over him, staring at him with eyes as blue as Neptune. They weren’t as small as most humans’. Her face was oval—a bit like his own kind. It was strangely pleasant to look at, even surrounded by all that yellow-gold hair. Still, he wanted her to leave so he could deal with his humiliation privately.

  “Zemanni.”

  “Cool.” She cleared her throat. “I mean, are you cool enough? Should I get some ice?”

  “More cold water.”

  “I guess they don’t have manners on your planet,” she mumbled, turning up the water to make the level rise. She took off her coat and tossed it into the hallway.

  The water was heating quickly from the energy he was putting off. The parts of his body that were submerged felt better. He slid beneath the surface and let out a sigh. Through the water, he could hear the Earthling make a bothersome noise.

  He remembered the form of a being with gills, and tried to modify his body so that he could siphon enough oxygen from the water to tell her to shut up. It was more out of habit than anything else, but his idiotic human body interpreted the thought as him wanting to breathe, even though he was submerged. Water rushed into his lungs.

  How could it burn? It was water.

  His body reacted with instincts encoded in the DNA he’d stolen from Eric Peterson—the man whose form Zemanni was trapped in. Between that, and the Earthling’s frantic attempts to pull him out of the water, he managed to sit up.

  Water sprayed from his mouth and nose. He felt more burning deep in his chest. His body expelled it with coughs that wracked his body, further tiring him.

  The Earthling pounded on his back, and kept repeating, “Are you okay?”

  He glared at her as he sucked in breath after breath into his nearly functionless human lungs. He wondered how the species survived with only two when they were so inefficient.

  Though he’d been assigned to Earth for months, he’d never stayed human this long. And without enough of the quicksilver that usually coursed through his natural form—allowing him to alter his shape at will—he couldn’t change even the simplest thing about himself.

  He could feel his cells stabilizing based on the only DNA pattern they had available to them—human DNA.

  “Are. You. Okay.” The woman was gripping his shoulders tightly, shaking him.

  “Stop that,” he shouted.

  “I’m not going to let you drown yourself in my tub.”

  “I didn’t know I was going to drown.”

  “How could you…” Her voice trailed off and she shook her head. “Earthlings need to breathe air.” She said the words loudly and with crisp enunciation, as if she thought he needed help to understand her.

  “I know that.”

  “So you were trying to drown yourself?”

  “No, I… I just forgot for a moment.”

  Forgot his two pathetic lungs. The single pounding organ that pumped the thin, runny blood through his hu
man veins. His barely functional eyes and all of the hair, hair, hair everywhere, all over his body.

  He grabbed a fistful of the stuff on top of his head and tugged on it, wishing he could pull off this weirdly sensitive skin. But then he couldn’t grow back another. He’d used almost every drop of quicksilver he had left in his system to piece himself back together after that Lyrian female had torn him to pieces.

  “Stop.” The Earthling leaned forward, wrapping her arms around him.

  At least this female only had two arms. And she didn’t seem like she was trying to kill him.

  “Calm down,” she said. “I’m going to help you, if I can.”

  Her embrace felt good. Comforting in a way that disgusted him. He shouldn’t need to be comforted. At the same time, the fact that she was offering… It made his chest feel tight, his internal pump—heart—suffused with strange energy.

  There was a rich and powerful scent on her that flooded his awareness with her proximity.

  “You smell delicious.” He wasn’t sure why he spoke the words out loud, unless it was from the sudden want surrounding the smell that flooded his senses.

  His brain was different, too. His mouth, his speech centers. This stabilizing form was pushing all that he was familiar with about himself away and replacing it with feelings that were alien. Alien.

  What a ridiculous species.

  She jerked back from him, stumbling away until she hit the counter behind her. “You said you wouldn’t try to eat me.”

  “What? No.” He shook his head, leaning heavily on his thighs. Hairy thighs. “Something on your clothing smells appealing.”

  She sniffed her shirt experimentally. “All I smell is coffee.”

  He’d smelled coffee before. But only when he was borrowing an Earthling’s form. Being trapped in this form was altering his perceptions to a troubling degree.

  Vapor pits, he was becoming a human. He might be stuck this way forever.