by Ruby Ryan
Table of Contents
Title
Copyright
Foreword
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
Karak Invasion
Karak Shifter Series
Emerald Gryphon
Gryphons vs Dragons Series
About
Contents
Title
Copyright
Foreword
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
Karak Invasion
Karak Shifter Series
Emerald Gryphon
Gryphons vs Dragons Series
About
Alien Shapeshifters #2
KARAK
WARRIOR
By Ruby Ryan
Copyright © 2018 Juicy Gems Publishing
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form without prior consent of the author.
Cover image by Alexander Corey
Edited by Alissa Snow
Enjoyed this steamy story? Please take the time to leave an honest review on Amazon. It'd mean the world to us!
Hold on a second!
This is a standalone science-fiction shifter romance, meaning you can start here and have an awesome time. But if you haven't read Karak Contact, the first in the Alien Shapeshifters series, you're missing some backstory and context that will make this one more enjoyable. If you've got the time, give that one a shot first--I promise you won't regret it!
Otherwise, enjoy Karak Warrior!
-Ruby
1
LESLIE
Something in my brain broke the day I learned of the Karak.
Shimmering aliens that could take the form of humans. That old they walk among us bullshit from The Twilight Zone or X-Files or some other show long gone. It was true.
It was all true.
At least, it was true as of two weeks ago, when Arix landed and stole Jo's heart. Maybe we were alone before that. But regardless of when it began, we certainly weren't alone anymore, nor would we be ever again.
And they'd chosen to make contact in Elijah, Wyoming. My little town.
Ain't that a kick in the ass?
"Is this the property line?" the man, Bobby, asked.
I flinched at the question, then nodded. "Yeah. Right here along the fence, extending due north for about another mile. The place where it meets Tim's property and turns left is marked with the same flags."
Bobby stuck his hands in his jeans pockets and nodded. "Good. Very good."
"Need me to show you any more?"
"Nope, this'll do."
We walked back, crunching through the crust of snow.
Selling Jo's old land to UFO hunters was an easy compromise. They'd already swarmed over my little town like cicadas on the crop, and after arresting the first three for trespassing I realized that would soon be my only job if something didn't change. By selling Jo's land, the conspiracy theorist nutjobs could hunt and tour to their crazy heart's desire.
Which meant I was back to being an administrator more than a cop.
"The Master Hunters claim you were involved in the cover-up," Bobby abruptly said.
"The what now?"
He looked at me like I was an idiot. "The Master Hunters. Max and Liam Jones."
"Oh good lord..." I muttered. "Those two aren't masters of anything."
Bobby's gesture encompassed the entire forest and town. "They found the UFO and aliens, didn't they?"
"There are no aliens here in Elijah," I said, falling into the same stump speech I'd been giving to hunters and reporters and anyone who asked for the past two weeks. "There never were, and there still aren't."
Of course, it wasn't the truth. But it's not as if that mattered to these nutjobs. Bobby nodded patronizingly, and I could see him checking a conspiratorial box in his head next to my name.
It was tougher to roll my eyes at people like Bobby now that they were right.
"Where'd you get the money for the sale?" I asked as we walked back to my cruiser.
"I don't have to answer that," Bobby jabbed a finger in my direction. "You have no right to question the source of my funding, and I refuse to be interrogated--"
"Jesus," I said, showing him my palms. "I was just makin' conversation. Relax."
I continued walking, and I could feel his suspicious eyes on my back. Elijah wouldn't be the same if these were the types of people who were settling into town.
We drove back to town in silence, Bobby constantly stealing glances over at me. I waited for him to ask his own interrogating questions, how many aliens had visited and if I had personally seen anything. Or why I had arrested the Jones brothers if they'd done nothing wrong. But Bobby's hackles were up, and he remained quiet, and I liked that just fine.
My quiet Wyoming town bustled with activity; the main street into town actually had traffic. Only six cars waiting to turn left into Harry's bar, but traffic nonetheless. I cursed as we waited and wondered how people in larger cities managed to survive this.
We went inside my office and signed the paperwork. Stacy, my assistant and the town's only notary, presided over the land sale and stamped her special stamp on each form, and then the job was done.
"Here is the cashier's check," Bobby said, extending a small rectangle of paper as if it were a fragile artifact. I took it and tried not to stare wide-eyed at the enormous number.
"Here's the deed." I gave him his piece of paper. "You can keep it here with the rest of the town's records, or if you prefer--"
Bobby snorted. "What I prefer is to manage my own property records, rather than relying on a suspicious local government, thank you very much."
I shrugged as if I didn't care. Because I didn't.
"When're you gunna start construction on the visitor's center?"
"Whenever I please." Bobby nodded in finality. "Good day."
I watched him leave my office, and shrugged to myself. One less thing.
"Deposit this please," I said, handing the check to Stacy. "And then set up a recurring wire transfer to that other account I gave you. $9,500 a week until fifty percent of the balance is transferred."
"You betcha." Stacy disappeared into the hall.
Jo would likely complain about me sending her half the proceeds of the sale, insisting the trade we'd made already wasn't fair. But she wasn't here to argue. Besides, the number on that check was an order of magnitude more than I could spend in a lifetime. Even after Jo's half was transferred, I wouldn't know what to do with myself. Donate most of it to charity, probably. More work I'd need to do.
More administrative work.
I fell into my chair with a sigh. Being a small town cop had its ups and down
s. I rarely solved crimes like in the movies, but there was a consistent satisfaction to keeping the peace. Settling local disputes, usually when one rancher's cattle migrated onto someone else's land. Or watching the bar to make sure nobody left too drunk, ensuring they got home safe and sound. Or keeping the Jones brothers in line.
It was satisfying in the way I always imagined being a mother was satisfying. Except instead of two or three children I had three hundred and forty-five, spread out over the town's limits.
More like three thousand, now.
The population of Elijah had boomed with the arrival of the UFO hunters. Two weeks ago I knew every single resident's name, what they did, and hell, even what their favorite Thanksgiving dish was. Now? I didn't recognize half the faces in Harry's bar. I hated it, I was slowly realizing. I was a stranger in my own damn town. And with so many new people, I wouldn't be able to keep the peace without hiring a staff of officers.
Which meant I'd be the commanding officer. Which also meant more paperwork.
Only paperwork, I suspected, while the men and women under me went around and did the jobs I normally liked.
I sighed to myself, resigned to what the future held.
Stacy returned some time later. "Deposit went through. Here's the receipt."
"Thanks," I said, staring at the paper. Jesus Christ, that number was big. Part of me still thought it was a joke. "You want a bonus?"
"Me?"
"Why not? You've worked hard for the better part of a decade. And you could have run off with that cashier's check and never returned."
She smiled and began to protest, but then shrugged. "Only if you'll let me spend some of that bonus celebrating the sale. Harry's bar?"
I looked at the clock. "Ehh."
"Come on, Leslie. It's 6:30, and you've been up all day dealing with those newcomers. You can't work every hour of the day."
"You're right about that," I mumbled. "Sure. I'll have a drink."
*
"C'mon," Harry said, leaning over the bar like a conspirator. "Tell me how much they paid."
I swirled my beer around in its glass, teasing the information out. The bar was crowded with people, almost every seat filled, so I had to speak loudly even though Harry was only a foot away.
"It'll be public record, soon. You can look it up then."
"I want the inside scoop!" His eyes were eager. "What good is it being buddies with the cop if I can't get info before everyone else?"
I took another sip and shrugged. "It's a lot."
"A lot?"
"A lot," I repeated. "More than I know what to do with."
Harry finally stood back up and shook his head. Before he could say something, another patron called out a drink order, which Harry rushed to fill.
I twisted in my bar stool and looked at the crowd. Since Stacy left after her one rum and coke, Harry was the only face I recognized. All newcomers, wearing black tactical jackets and holding cell phones out in front of them like they were hoping to find a signal (spoiler alert: they wouldn't.) Not just strange faces: strange people. As ridiculous as it sounded, the actual aliens who'd visited our town seemed less alien than these folk.
And many, if not all of them, would probably become permanent residents. Most seemed to believe Elijah, Wyoming would become the new Roswell, New Mexico. They made such a statement with excitement, but when the thought passed my mind it had a tone of dread.
My town is gone.
The realization was easier to accept now that I was into my third drink. That's what I needed to do: accept it, not fight it, because it couldn't be fought. Especially now that I'd sold Jo's old land.
The die has been cast. That's what the Romans said, right?
Harry returned to my corner of the bar. "So when do they break ground?"
"Well," I said slowly, "when I asked Bobby that exact question he told me it wasn't any of my business. But I saw tractors driving through town about an hour after we signed the paperwork."
"They're eager to get the visitor center up."
"Eager is a good word for them in general," I muttered, looking sideways at the man on the next stool over. He was arguing with another UFO hunter about the shape of the aliens, whether they were naturally bipedal or only assimilated it from humans.
"Feels weird not having Jo around," Harry said. "Can't believe she ran off with that fella. Love at first sight, huh?"
"Guess so." I took a deeper pull of my beer. "I need some of that excitement in my life."
Harry swept his hand across the bar. "This isn't enough excitement for you?"
"You know what I mean."
He gave me a wry grin. "Yeah. I know exactly what you mean." He pointed with the pint glass he was cleaning. "If I had a big chunk of money, you know what I'd do?"
"What would you do, Harry?"
"I'd take Caroline and my girls to Rome. Show them the Coliseum, and the Parthenon."
"The Parthenon is in Greece," I pointed out.
"Well, you know what I mean. Show them some of the world. Aside from Caroline's two years at Boise State, none of us have ever left Wyoming. I want better for my daughters."
I arched an eyebrow at him. "You beggin' for a piece of my new-found riches?"
Harry spread his hands and smiled widely. "All I'm sayin' is that a big tip would be appreciated."
"I'll splurge and tip twenty-five percent instead of twenty."
Harry looked past me, tilted his head up in acknowledgment, then nodded. "Your boyfriend is here."
I groaned and avoided turning around. "He's not my--you know what, never mind."
"I don't know why you're so resistant," Harry said, pouring a fresh beer. "I'm not the best judge of these things, but he's awfully good looking."
"I suppose."
Harry eyed me while pouring the beer. "Unless he's... not your type. You know. If you, uhh, prefer..."
"Harry!"
"Cause that would explain it..."
"Good lord, Harry, I'm not a lesbian."
"Okay, okay. Sorry. I didn't know if--"
"He's an outsider, Harry, no matter how pretty he is."
"Sure."
"A nutjob UFO hunter." It wasn't the truth, but it wasn't precisely a lie, either. "Probably won't be here more than a few more days."
"You're right." He put the beer on the counter. "Why don't you go take this to him for me?"
"He ordered a beer?"
"Sure did. Had one a few hours ago, too."
"Better pour me another, then." He blinked, and I added, "I've got a couch across the street in my office. No driving for me tonight."
"Alright," he said, pouring the second glass.
I took a deep breath, grabbed the beers, and slid off my stool.
Jamie sat at a table for two up against the side wall. He was pretty, the way a male model is pretty, with a perfectly groomed five o-clock shadow and beard below high cheekbones. His eyes were like the ocean, some mixture of green and blue that seemed to change depending on the time of day, and his brown hair was an organized chaos on his head. He was focused on the faded yellow notepad on the table, nervously tapping a pencil against it.
"Look what the cat dragged in," I said by way of greeting, plopping both beers down and then doing the same with my behind in the chair across from him. He smiled in surprise, and my heart did that stupid frigging thing it does when a good-looking guy is happy to see you.
But it was impossible to see him as anything other than what he truly was: an outsider who didn't belong in Elijah, and wouldn't be here much longer.
"Officer Hendrix," he said, my name pouring from his lips like sweet syrup. "I was hoping to see you tonight."
I pushed the beer a few inches closer. "Didn't think you drank."
He wrapped long fingers around the beer, sniffed it, then took a long pull. He smacked his lips, a ridiculous action which he somehow made look attractive.
"Today's different."
I drank from my own beer to cover up th
e goofy grin that wanted to creep onto my face. How could Harry think I'm a lesbian? I felt like a frigging schoolgirl whenever Jamie smiled at me. He probably had no idea, either. He was understandably oblivious.
I toasted the air. "To today being different." He mimicked my gesture and we drank in mutual silence.
"I've made astounding progress," he explained, crossing one leg over the other. "My research is complete. Or at least as complete as it can be without deeper involvement. I believe I'm finished here."
I flinched at his words. "Finished?"
"I will be leaving tomorrow, yes," he said. "As unexpected as this visit was, it has been... fruitful."
"I'm really glad to hear that." I quickly shook my head and added, "That it's been fruitful. Not that you're leaving."
Jamie smiled a knowing smile, and it felt like he was in my head.
"I cannot thank you enough for your... assistance in my visit." He leaned forward to look at me with those ocean-green eyes, sparkling above his beer. "I will miss you, Leslie."
They weren't just empty words. Jamie meant them, the way he meant everything he said, because that's who he was. But he also meant them exactly as he spoke them, without deeper meaning.
Simply, to the point. No subtext. It was refreshing, in a way. Especially compared to the other newcomers in Elijah.
"I'll miss you too," I said, and there was subtext to my words. Working on my fourth beer, I could feel myself drawn to him. He'd been a comfort in these past two weeks, as ridiculous and unexpected as that might have been. A constant in the swirling chaos that the town had become.
I told myself it had nothing to do with how frigging handsome he looked.
He smiled that smile at me, easy and warm.
If it were anyone else, in any other time and place, this would be that moment in the night when I asked him to come home with me. My defenses were properly disabled by the alcohol, and I was feeling especially lighthearted after finally selling Jo's land. If there were a time to let loose and have some fun, this was it. I could take him across the street to my office, tear that shirt away and kiss every inch of his chest. Push him down onto my couch as I did a strip tease, gyrating the curve of my hips as I removed my panties, then bent over to pull down his jeans to reveal a cock hard with willingness. And he would grab me, push me, take command of me as I fell back on the couch and he climbed atop me and smothered me with his muscles and kisses and pleasure.
