Odin: Alien Adoption Agency #5

by Tasha Black

  “My husband and I changed plenty of wheels back on Lymay-2 when he was volunteering in the Physician’s Brigade,” she said mildly.

  Husband?

  The dragon raged in his chest at the thought.

  Odin felt a snarl threaten to pull his lips up. He didn’t want the mate bond. But he also didn’t want her to have a husband.

  “Will he be joining you on Lachesis?” he asked, through a clenched jaw.

  Her face froze and she was silent for a moment, her eyes drifting up to the cloudy sky for an instant before she seemed to remember herself.

  “No,” she said, turning her attention back to the wheel.

  What was that supposed to mean?

  “There isn’t a jack in the cart, is there?” she asked. “We need to get the weight off this thing so we can change it out.”

  “Give me the babe,” Odin said.

  She stood and brought Colton to him.

  A pang of joy went through him at the feel of the baby back in his arms. Colton made a small sound and nestled in snugly. The whelp was serious about his sleep.

  The woman grabbed the spare wheel from the back of the cart.

  As soon as she turned back to him, Odin reached out with the arm that wasn’t holding Colton and lifted the back of the cart off the ground.

  Her eyebrows lifted slightly, as if she were impressed.

  He let himself give her the smirk that usually made women wild with lust.

  But she only turned her attention back to the wheel.

  Odin was stuck contending with the dragon. In showing off his strength he had allowed it to come closer to the surface.

  Now the dragon’s superior senses revealed the woman’s scent, and the soft sound of her breathing, and the drum of her heartbeat as she worked on the cart.

  The heightened awareness made it almost impossible to resist the mating bond. Odin could practically feel her.

  Frustration mounted in him and he wished he could shift and fly off some of this steam, or at least walk away and take a breath of air that wasn’t saturated with her heavenly aroma.

  But the woman was working, so he stood, knowing he would hold up the cart until she was finished, even if it took all day.

  3

  Liberty

  Liberty was nodding off by the time they reached Five Points. Between the rocky flight, meeting the baby, changing the wheel, and the strange tension between herself and the big red warrior, she was about out of adrenaline.

  Colton had finally decided to wake up for a few hours along the way, which was an absolute delight. But after a hearty meal and some conversational gurgling, he was fast asleep once more.

  The cart jostled slightly as the ox-yak pranced a little at the sight of the inn. She wasn’t the only one anxious to be off the road.

  The inn was an old-timey looking place, made of roughhewn lumber, big stones, and lumpy mortar with a thick, thatch roof. A single tube of neon lighting listlessly blinked the word VACANCY.

  “Odin, a pleasure to see you, your honor,” an honest-to-goodness robotic voice called out.

  Odin. So that’s what the red warrior is called. What a name.

  He rolled his eyes.

  Liberty watched as an old model T4 rolled creakily down the path to greet them.

  “Oh, Tia, I’ve got this,” someone called happily out the window. “Odin, you great big hunk of Invicta goodness! Did you bring my little one?”

  “I brought his new mother,” Odin grumbled.

  The owner of the happy voice appeared in the doorway. She was Terran, with long silver curls and an apron around her ample waist. She looked like something out of a storybook.

  “Hello, dear,” she said, approaching Liberty, her eyes crinkling as she smiled, as if they had been friends forever. “Let me help you down.”

  Liberty took her hand, grateful she wouldn’t have to let Odin help her again. The idea of his hand wrapped around hers again made her shiver just thinking about it.

  “You’re cold, aren’t you?” the woman asked, then continued before she could answer. “Folks call me Root. What’s your name, dear?”

  “Liberty,” she replied.

  “Liberty, a lovely name for a lovely girl,” Root said. “And I see the little fellow is as adorable as ever.”

  Liberty nodded proudly and they both gazed down at Colton.

  “How far did you travel today?” Root asked.

  “I arrived by air shuttle,” Liberty explained.

  “You came all that way tonight?” Root exclaimed. “For shame, Odin. You can’t make a lady travel like that.”

  “She’s fine,” Odin said, sliding the touch frame on the ox-yak’s harness and giving its flank a swat to alert it to its freedom. “She even changed the wheel.”

  Gadabout followed after the robot, as if she had been here before.

  “The rented beasts always know to follow Tia,” Root confided. “She manages the stable, and the animals’ larder.”

  “Oh,” Liberty said, trying to keep up.

  “Changed the wheel, eh?” Root asked, leading her by the elbow toward the inn. “Did she shame your manliness, Odin? Is that why you’re so grumpy?”

  Liberty tried not to laugh.

  Odin only scowled.

  “That’s just a little joke,” Root said. “He’s always grumpy. Gods only know why. He’s got every gift known to man and woman.”

  “We’ll need two rooms,” Odin said. “And dinner - plenty of it.”

  “You can have as much dinner as you want,” Root said. “But I’ve only got one room.”

  “Don’t give me a hard time, woman,” Odin growled. “We need two rooms.”

  “You see how he treats me?” Root said to Liberty. “I don’t have two rooms, boy. I only have one. Take it or leave it.”

  “Which room?” Odin asked suspiciously.

  “Does it matter?” she asked. “Are you planning on sleeping in the stables if you don’t like it? Or were you just going to push on to the highlands instead?”

  He muttered something unfriendly under his breath, but Root only laughed and opened the door to the inn.

  The interior was dim but cozy. A floating sofa hovered over a rag rug in cheerful colors in front of the fire.

  Root tossed Odin an old-fashioned bracelet with a laser chip to key their room.

  “The lovers’ room?” Odin said, his jaw clenched like it was the worst thing he’d ever heard of.

  Liberty had half a mind to be offended by his reaction. Sure, she wasn’t interested in sleeping with this guy, but she’d had her share of men sniffing around her after Wyn passed. She might not be a holo star, but she was pretty enough.

  “You should see yourself,” Root scolded him lightly. “Yes, the nicest room in the place. Aren’t you lucky? Dinner in your room?”

  “Yes,” he said tersely.

  “Alright,” Root nodded. “Well, I suppose you can find the room well enough on your own. I’ll just warm you up a couple of plates and grab a cradle for the child.”

  Odin tromped off toward the narrow staircase without another word, and Liberty followed.

  “He’s alright,” Root whispered to Liberty.

  Liberty smiled at the woman, who was obviously very kind. But she was beginning to wonder about Odin. She had admired his forthright anger at first, but was the man ever happy?

  The top of the stairs opened onto a large landing. She followed Odin a bit farther down a long hallway until they reached the very end. He waved the bracelet and the wooden door slid open to reveal a snug little room.

  There was a massive, sleigh-style bed, a pretty realistic looking hologram fireplace, and absolutely nothing else. The cozy space couldn’t have accommodated much else even if Root’s decorating desires had been more creative. As it was, Liberty wasn’t sure where a cradle would even fit.

  Suddenly she understood exactly why Odin had been frustrated with this set-up.

  They weren’t just going to be in close quarters,
they were literally going to be in bed together.

  “Is that the bathroom?” she squeaked, pointing to a door in the corner.

  “I’ll take the boy,” he said, nodding. “Go on.”

  She handed the baby over and made a beeline for the bathroom. It would be good to freshen up, and even better to get a minute to think.

  4

  Odin

  Odin sat on the edge of the bed, cradling baby Colton in his left arm as the whelp finished off another bulb of milk. Odin smiled down at him. For a creature that spent most of its time asleep, and most of its waking time eating, the little guy sure was enchanting.

  Colton stared back at him with an expression that might have been a smile and might have been gas. After a moment, the whelp let out a loud burp and nodded off once more, leaving Odin alone with his thoughts.

  His thoughts of Liberty.

  The room was already redolent with his mate’s delicious scent, and it would only continue overwhelm him until his resolve melted and he begged her to accept his claim.

  He stood again and began to pace, rocking Colton as he did. Although he wasn’t sure if the two strides it took him to cross the room even qualified as proper pacing.

  There was a light tap on the door, and Odin opened it to find the T-4, holding a small cradle.

  “Your honor, I bring you the cradle for—” it began.

  “Thanks,” Odin interrupted. He had no patience for the robot’s old-fashioned politeness.

  The T-4 rolled into the room, deposited the cradle beside the bed, and rolled away again.

  Odin closed the door behind it and carried the babe over to his place of rest.

  Colton squirmed a little as he was lowered into his bed, but Odin rubbed his little belly until he settled down again.

  Odin gazed at the peaceful little face for longer than he meant to. Though he knew he was supposed to protect the small one, sometimes it felt like the situation was reversed. Caring for Colton centered him, giving him respite from the fury that threatened to burn him alive some days.

  Colton’s needs were straightforward, but exacting. Unlike everyone else in Odin’s circle, the whelp was very clear about what he wanted from Odin, and quick to let him know when he got it wrong.

  When Colton was at peace, a part of Odin could be too, knowing he had done something right.

  He brushed a silky soft cheek with the rough pad of his thumb and straightened as the bathroom door opened, releasing a puff of warm steam and the scent of his mate.

  She had seen him fussing over the whelp like a doting grandmother. That was unacceptable. But when he spun to face her, his embarrassment was gone before it could take root.

  Liberty stood in the threshold, a fluffy towel wrapped around her and nothing else. Droplets still clung to her damp hair and radiant flesh.

  His eyes helplessly followed the path of one drop as it slid down her neck between the tops of her breasts.

  “I couldn’t resist a shower,” she murmured. “After a long day on the road…”

  He moved to her without thinking, stopping himself an inch away.

  “Liberty,” he murmured.

  She gasped.

  While Odin’s emotions surged, the dragon coolly assessed her response.

  Her pupils were dilated, lips slightly parted, cheeks flushed, heartbeat increasing. She was clearly feeling the same way he was.

  Claim her.

  But he fought against the dragon. A mate could not be taken by force, no matter what signals her body sent. Odin’s dragon side might be ancient, but he was a modern man, a man of honor.

  “Odin?” she whispered.

  He could hear hidden harmonics in her voice as they caressed him.

  He reached out very slowly and cupped her face in his hand, praying she wouldn’t turn away from his touch.

  She closed her eyes.

  Before he had time to react, there came a loud, shave-and-a-haircut knock on the door to the room and then it flew open.

  He spun to roar at the robot, but it was nowhere to be seen.

  Root was already placing a huge tray of food on the bedside table. Two steaming mugs of Lachesis tea sat between plates piled high with rolls, stew, and roasted vegetables.

  “Good Lord, you two didn’t waste any time,” she said, giving Liberty an appraising glance up and down.

  “Oh no,” Liberty said, looking shocked. “We… we didn’t…”

  “Well you should,” Root informed her. “The bed is very sturdy. You don’t need to worry about it.”

  Odin watched, frozen with horror, as Root placed her hands on the mattress and leaned all her weight on and off the bed a few times to demonstrate.

  “Enough,” he bellowed, finally remembering his voice. “Leave us in peace.”

  In his cradle, Colton made a small noise of displeasure, then quieted again.

  “You just need to take the edge off, Mr. Grumpy,” Root said, winking at him. “Then you’ll be right as rain. But don’t forget to eat while it’s hot.”

  She left, pulling the door shut behind her.

  Odin turned back to Liberty.

  For a moment she only stared at him, wide-eyed.

  Then she began to laugh.

  The sound was rich, deep and real, like cool rain on his parched soul.

  He smiled back at her, utterly smitten.

  5

  Liberty

  Liberty figured that the perpetually serious Odin would be put off by her laughter.

  Instead, his dark eyes crinkled as he smiled at her. Her first thought was that it was like the sun coming out after the rain. But that couldn’t be right. That meant something else to her - something important that she wasn’t about to confuse with a smile from a stranger, no matter how handsome he was.

  “I’m sorry if we got off on the wrong foot—” she began.

  “It is good to laugh,” he said at the same time.

  They paused, and for a second the same magic shimmered in the air between them.

  Liberty had been attracted to plenty of guys in her life. But whatever had been happening between them earlier was completely different. She found herself at a loss as to what to say next.

  “The whelp is sleeping,” Odin said. “We should eat.”

  “Oh yes, the parenting book does say that,” she agreed at once.

  “Book?” he echoed, indicating that she should climb onto the bed.

  She hesitated, but quickly realized that if she didn’t sit on the bed, she would have no place to sit at all.

  She crawled in and leaned back against the wooden headboard.

  He handed her the tray and climbed in after her.

  “This looks amazing,” she said, her stomach grumbling as she took in the scent of the hearty meal.

  “Root is a good cook,” Odin said.

  She glanced up at him, surprised but glad to hear him compliment their hostess. He already had a mouthful of stew, his eyes were closed with pleasure.

  Liberty felt a deeper kind of hunger growing within her. One that wouldn’t be satisfied with mere food. But she took a big bite to distract herself before she could give it too much thought.

  The stew practically melted in her mouth, the simple flavors of meat and root vegetables blending perfectly with a spice she had never tasted before.

  “That flavor is tumbler flower,” Odin said, as if reading her thoughts. “It’s only grown on Lachesis.”

  “Amazing,” Liberty said, taking another bite.

  They ate quietly for a few minutes, the cries of the night birds outside the only sound.

  “You’re adopting a baby,” Odin said suddenly, his deep voice breaking the silence. “But your husband isn’t here with you.”

  His words hung in the air for a moment before she decided on the right way to reply.

  “He’s dead,” she said simply, looking down at her stew so she wouldn’t have to see him react.

  He didn’t reply, and she glanced up after a moment to find hi
m gazing at her, a haunted look in his eyes.

  She waited for him to say he was sorry, to treat her differently, like she was a fragile thing that might fall apart at any moment, the way people always did when they found out she was a widow. Escaping other people’s uncomfortable sympathy was part of the joy of traveling.

  She could have told him anything. But somehow, she didn’t have the heart to lie to this man. They were going to be sharing responsibility for Colton for the next twenty years, so she couldn’t really lie, even if she wanted to.

  “You loved him?” he asked.

  She nodded once.

  He leapt to his feet and began to pace the tiny space in front of the bed. He reminded her of the panther at the Terra Fantastical Zoo.

  “Are you okay?” she asked after a minute.

  “It makes me angry,” he growled.

  Well that was no surprise.

  What was a surprise was how it made Liberty feel. People expected her to be sad all the time. She had hidden her anger, sure it would be unwelcome.

  But his anger on her behalf made her feel justified and seen in a way no one ever had before.

  “Yeah, it sucks,” she agreed. “But he didn’t want my life to be over, and I’m trying not to let it be.”

  “This is why you wanted a child?” Odin asked, turning back to her with interest.

  “It was on his list,” she said, smiling. “He made me a list of things he wanted me to do when he was gone.”

  “Vengeance on his enemies,” Odin suggested, nodding as if it went without saying.

  “Uh, no,” Liberty said. “But I’m getting the feeling your list might be more interesting than his, and that’s saying something.”

  Odin shrugged.

  “No, it was things he wanted me to experience,” she explained. “Good things, like traveling, and learning a new language.”

  “What language did you learn?” he asked.

  “Flabian,” she told him.

  “Flabian?” he said. “Really?”