Kade: Alien Adoption Agency #2

by Tasha Black

  “It’s not really the kind of thing you figure out as you go,” he told her earnestly. “You could die just from the water. And there are things below the surface that you don’t want to bump into without water armor.”

  “Can I wear yours?” she asked.

  “It’s far too big for you,” he told her. “It would only impair you. You were very brave today, but it’s over, Aurora.”

  The sheriff sprinted past, his big belly heaving as he headed for the water in his scaled suit.

  “Not yet it isn’t,” she said quietly.

  “Aurora—” Kade began.

  “No interfering with the players,” the announcer said over the microphone. “Step away from that young lady or she will be disqualified.”

  Kade lifted his hands in surrender and backed up. “Aurora, please,” he murmured.

  But she turned her eyes to the shore.

  Tall trees shaded parts of the rocky beach. She was a good climber, but she had to get all the way across the water. Climbing them and jumping wouldn’t help.

  A series of small docks floated just offshore. There was a small boat tied to one. She didn’t think the rules specifically said anything about how the contestants had to get to the island. If she could make it to that boat…

  But it was a hundred meters off the shore. It might as well have been on another moon, for all the good that did her.

  It pained her to think about giving up now, but she was starting to believe that Kade might be right. There might be nothing she could do.

  Something enormous moved just under the surface of the water, triggering a primal fear deep within her.

  No. Not under the water at all.

  It was something being reflected in the surface of the water.

  She looked up to see a majestic sky leviathan passing overhead.

  Kade’s warning about the shy creatures came back to her.

  And she had an idea.

  It was a long shot, but what choice did she have?

  Aurora began scouring the plants growing along the shore for something. If only she could find it, maybe, just maybe she would have a chance.

  At last, she spotted one of the fuzzy little caterpillars.

  She reached for it and stroked the silky fur.

  Though she had been fully expecting it, the high-pitched alarm it emitted still made her jump.

  She looked up and watched as the sky leviathan’s response to the loud noise - the exact reaction she’d been hoping for.

  The gigantic creature spooked, and crashed into a huge tree near the shoreline, uprooting it like it was no bigger than a flower in a garden.

  The tree fell slowly, its canopy landing on one of the docks with a crash and a huge splash.

  There was no time to stop and think. The air leviathan had turned that tree into a bridge. It was up to Aurora now to use it.

  She ran to the root ball, climbed it, and scrambled across the rough bark.

  Small tree animals were scrambling out of the leaves and fleeing toward the shore as Aurora climbed and leapt her way in the opposite direction.

  The uneven surface of the tree was hard to get a foothold on. She slipped in places, nearly twisting her ankle once before flinging herself forward and grasping a branch to save herself.

  Don’t fall in, don’t fall in.

  She looked down to find she was suspended just over the water. Where the branches were submerged, creatures from the lake wiggled close to the surface to investigate.

  She spotted what she assumed were fish. She’d never seen one in real life before. Something wide and translucent with four eyes on top of its head and a tail that sparked with electricity swam in a mesmerizing figure eight. A marble-eyed creature with a mouthful of jagged teeth reached out of the water with a slimy tentacle that sent a shiver down her spine.

  Focus.

  She got her feet back on the trunk and moved faster, fighting her way through the thick branches as she got further into the canopy.

  Eventually, she found herself at the dock.

  A small boat had been tied to one of the hooks.

  She took it, making a silent promise to come back and pay the owner for its use.

  She hopped in and began to row her way toward the opposite shore and victory, or near-victory at least, if everything went according to plan.

  21

  Aurora

  Aurora scanned the water for signs of her competitors.

  Most were swimming steadily to the far shore and the finish line. One or two had managed to commandeer a raft or floating transport of their own, but she had left them all behind.

  All but the sheriff. In spite of his less than athletic build, he was clearly a gifted swimmer. His strong arms cut the water ahead of her as he drew closer and closer to the shore where the judge waited.

  He was on pace to come in just ahead of her.

  Perfect.

  Something cold touched her feet, and Aurora looked down to see that the little boat was taking on water.

  “No, no, no,” she murmured to herself.

  But the water was trickling in faster now. She would be lucky to make it to shore at all.

  And she had come so close.

  Her mind went to the creatures gathered around the submerged branches of the tree and her blood ran cold.

  She pumped the paddles until her arms ached.

  The water was up to her ankles now, murky and frigid. She didn’t have much time, and the more it filled, the harder the boat became to move.

  The competition and the sheriff were forgotten.

  Aurora could only think of Lyra and Kade.

  If she drowned, or got eaten by sea creatures today, what would happen to them?

  She wasn’t about to find out.

  Aurora pushed herself to her limits, the cold wind off the lake a relief against her heated limbs.

  But at last the boat sank.

  She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath, preparing to be submerged in the cold water.

  But the hull thudded as it made contact with the bottom before the water even reached her chest.

  She was close enough to shore, she only had to run through the last bit of water to get to safety.

  Adrenaline coursing, she leapt out and sprinted, refusing to allow herself to think about what might be waiting for her in the water, ready to clean the flesh right off her bones, or drag her down into the darkness.

  Staggering with exhaustion, she fell on the shore as the crowd went wild.

  It was only then that she heard the curses of the sheriff right behind her.

  She’d won.

  But she hadn’t had a choice.

  She had needed to beat him if she wanted to survive.

  “Aurora,” Ethel’s voice was high and scared.

  She lifted her head from the sand and rock.

  Ethel was squatting beside her, Lyra wrapped in her long, slender arms.

  “They’re here,” Ethel moaned. “The Recon Brigade is on Clotho, and they’re heading for the shore.”

  Aurora’s heart splintered into pieces.

  She had thought it was bad to be in trouble with the sheriff, but now the intergalactic forces were coming to retrieve her.

  “I-I have to go,” she murmured, scrambling to her feet.

  The crowd parted slightly to allow her to run to the judge and claim the shining Sheriff’s Cup.

  But she turned and ran into the press of bodies instead, uncertain where she was going, but knowing she needed to get as far from where she was expected to be as possible.

  But she wasn’t sure how far she could make it. She was already exhausted. Her heart thundered in her ears as she tried to picture how she would sneak her way off this moon.

  Like it or not, she would have to begin another life. Again.

  She tried not to picture Lyra and Kade, knowing it would make the last of her spirit wither inside her.

  But she couldn’t stop the hot tears that flew from her eyes as her fe
et pounded the rocky soil.

  22

  Kade

  Kade closed his eyes and let go.

  He had tried to stop Aurora when she was on this side of the lake, but she had insisted on pressing on. He’d relented, thinking she’d be forced to stop soon enough anyway. But then she’d cleverly used the sky leviathan to fell the tree and form a bridge.

  If only she weren’t so brave.

  He had watched her traverse the fallen giant until she reached the dock and boat, his pride battling with his fear of what could happen with one misplaced step.

  And he saw the moment she ran into real trouble.

  She was paddling for all she was worth, only to slow her progress. Her boat was sinking.

  Kade didn’t want to interfere with the competition, but he didn’t have much choice.

  His mate was going to drown, or worse.

  Unless he did something extreme.

  Before he had time to change his mind, he let the change come over him, scales sliding up over his arms as he expanded into his other self.

  The dragon took over instantly, beating the air with radiant wings and lifting them high above the lake.

  He could hear the gasps of the crowd below, but none of it mattered. He had to find his mate, and save her.

  And claim her.

  He scanned the shore for her, but the area was too crowded to pick her out. He did manage to spot Ethel, arms wrapped around the whelp. She was trying to wave him down with frantic gesticulations.

  He touched down outside the crowd, so as not to risk harming anyone.

  Let me out, his human side pleaded. She won’t be able to talk with you.

  The dragon was torn. He liked his freedom. He liked knowing he could fly or set things on fire to protect the ones he loved.

  But seeing the frightened expression on Ethel’s face as she approached him, he assented.

  Kade swam his way back to the top of his own consciousness as he shifted forms once more.

  “Where is she?” he demanded.

  Ethel blinked at him, as if trying to reconcile his two selves which had both appeared before her.

  “Where is Lyra’s mother?” he asked.

  “Sh-she ran,” Ethel said. “The Intergalactic Recon Brigade is here. They’ve come for her.”

  His heart sank.

  “Does she know?” he asked.

  Ethel nodded. “I found her, I fought through the crowd with the child. I told her they were here, and then she ran.”

  “Good, good,” Kade thought out loud. “I should be able to spot her from the air.”

  “No,” Ethel said, grabbing his scaled arm and then drawing her hand back.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Everyone has seen you now,” she said. “The Brigade will follow the dragon right to her. You’ll be doing their job for them.”

  His mouth dropped open in horror. He’d never tried to avoid the authorities before, and it seemed he didn’t really have a knack for that kind of thinking.

  “Go on foot,” Ethel said. “I’ll keep the child.”

  “It might take a while,” he said uncertainly, looking at Lyra, asleep in Ethel’s arms.

  “I’ll gladly keep her all night,” Ethel said immediately. “And if anything happens… Well, it won’t. But if it did, Franc and I would keep her safe as long as we had to.”

  “You would?” he echoed back at her, gazing in amazement at the sweet child who had inspired so much love in so many people.

  “Of course we would,” Ethel said. “But we won’t have to, because you’re going to find her.”

  “Yes,” he nodded. “Which way did she go?”

  “Back this way, through the crowd,” Ethel explained. “Come on.”

  They jogged down the beach. Kade would have preferred to run, but in deference to Ethel’s age and the fact that she was carrying the whelp, he managed to pace himself.

  He let the dragon as close to the surface as he dared, expanding his senses and reaching out for any trace of his missing mate. Luckily, he picked up Aurora’s scent as soon as they entered the crowd. It was a faint thread in a tapestry of other scents, but he was relieved to find it.

  Then the broken notes of a song shattered his concentration.

  Kade turned, unbelieving, to the strains of the Intergalactic Anthem of Planets.

  A soldier played the song alone, on a shimmering blue horn as he advanced on the beach.

  Behind him, the Brigade marched onward.

  Every person on the beach automatically raised their hands at their sides, palms up, in the traditional gesture of intergalactic peace and respect they had been taught since childhood to assume when they heard that song.

  On various planets, Kade had seen children and old men assume the friendly gesture. He had seen android arms, scaled and furry arms, even slimy tentacles, all with palms upraised in peace to the sound of the simple melody.

  Typically, it was played to announce the arrival of an important leader.

  But sometimes, like today, it was meant to remind the intergalactic citizens who were being visited that the force worked for all beings of the galaxy.

  It was a good way to remind them that this was just a visit, not an invasion.

  The sheriff and his men were already scrambling across the beach to meet the contingent of soldiers as they exited the first patrol craft of the Brigade.

  “What’s happening here?” one of the soldiers called out in a friendly way.

  “This was the Sheriff’s Cup,” the sheriff replied loudly.

  “Is there a winner?” the soldier asked.

  The sheriff scowled.

  “A woman cheated and ran away,” he replied. “I’m glad you’re here, you can help us catch her.”

  “She cheated?” the solider asked.

  “She startled a sky leviathan to knock over a tree and used it as a bridge,” the sheriff whined. “This was supposed to be a swimming contest.”

  “It was?” the soldier asked, looking less amused than before.

  “It was a Docking contest, sir,” the youngest competitor piped up. “That usually means swimming. But she didn’t break any rules.”

  Kade was fond of the boy already.

  “She’s already a troublemaker though,” the sheriff spat in fury. “She and her husband were complaining in the square about the protection fees.”

  “What does that mean?” the soldier asked.

  The sheriff blinked back at him, as if only just that moment realizing what he had said.

  “What does he mean when he says protection?” the soldier called into the crowd. “Protection from what?”

  No one seemed to want to answer.

  “Do not fear the Intergalactic Brigade,” the solider called out. “Your tribute pays for the craft I rode in on and the clothing on my back. It is my duty to serve you. And something doesn’t seem right here.”

  He was looking at the sheriff with great suspicion.

  “Protection means a payment to keep any accidents from shutting down a business,” Gar, the old man from the store piped up. “It used to be ten percent of our sales. Now it is twenty-five.”

  “The farmers won’t land here for the market anymore if they have a choice,” a woman piped up. “Soon, we will starve.”

  “A bribe,” the solider said with an expression of disgust. “Does your tribute not pay the sheriff a salary?”

  “It does, sir,” another man said.

  “That means this man works for you,” the solider said. “This type of behavior is not to be tolerated from public servants. I think we need to go somewhere and have a nice long talk about the role of law enforcement on Clotho.”

  He nodded to the other soldiers and they led the sheriff and his men away.

  Kade really wanted to find out what would happen next, but he had to find Aurora before it was too late.

  The soldier might have the right instincts about the sheriff, but that was no guarantee he would give Aurora a
chance to explain herself.

  After all, they believed she had tried to assassinate Ambassador Scott.

  In their eyes, she was a dangerous fugitive.

  23

  Aurora

  Despite the burning in her legs and lungs, Aurora ran until she reached the edge of the little town. It was funny how desperation to survive could override silly things like total exhaustion.

  The town was mostly empty - everyone was down at the lake for the last stage of the Sheriff’s Cup.

  I won the Sheriff’s Cup, she thought to herself.

  Then she realized how stupid the thought was.

  She had nearly gotten herself killed to compete at a small-town fair. And she hadn’t solved the issue with the sheriff.

  Think, Aurora, think.

  She mainly needed to change clothes to make it harder for them to find her. Then she would have to figure out where to go.

  She scanned the empty street for anything that might help her disguise herself.

  The first few shops she saw were closed, with signs hanging in the windows, noting that they would be back after the Sheriff’s Cup. But there was a shuttle repair shop on the corner and they had left the garage door open.

  She jogged over to it and ducked inside, blinking to adjust her eyes to the dim of the interior. Tools and shuttle parts were spread out across the shop. The freshly airbrushed hull of a small sports craft sat drying in the corner.

  Hanging on a hook on the back wall was a single coverall.

  She ran over to it, praying it was for a humanoid body not too much bigger or smaller than her own.

  The shuttle mechanic’s assistant it belonged to was clearly a bit smaller than Aurora, but at least the suit had the right number of sleeves and pant legs.

  She quickly stripped and pulled the thing on, trading her scarf for the matching cap to cover her hair, but tucking the scarf in one of the coverall pockets, just in case.

  The coverall was skin tight. She definitely didn’t look like a shuttle mechanic’s assistant. But at least it didn’t match the clothing she had been wearing earlier, so it had to be an improvement.