Inferno: Alien Castaways 5 (Intergalactic Dating Agency)

by Cara Bristol

  “He grabbed you. He touched you.”

  “So, you were going to what, burn him to a crisp?” Her eyes sparked.

  “You care about that man?” His hearts clenched.

  “No, I don’t care about him. I care about you—and what would happen to you if you torched him! You can’t set people on fire because you’re jealous or you don’t like them.”

  “I would not have hurt him. I only intended to scare him.”

  “Well, you did that.” Her lips twitched. “He wet his pants. Or maybe he was gonna try to put out the fire.” A giggle erupted from her throat, and then she sobered, jerking her head, as if seeing him for the first time. “Why are you naked?”

  “My clothes burned away when I combusted.”

  She strode to her car, popped Wanda’s hatch, extracted a blanket, and handed it to him.

  He secured it around his middle.

  “I had no idea you could transform like that.”

  He’d seen other Luciferans under duress transform, but he never had. During the bombardment, he’d managed to keep his cool. But with the fear Geneva might be in danger, he’d combusted.

  “It is not something I make a habit of. I’ve never done it before,” he admitted.

  “Please don’t do it again. It’s dangerous. Trenton is an asshole, but he’s an insignificant asshole, and I don’t want you getting arrested or going to prison because of him. I think you scared him enough, he won’t return.”

  Her ex was an asshole and a coward. Inferno recalled how Trenton thrust Geneva aside to save his own skin.

  “Inferno? Promise me?”

  He squirmed, not liking her request, but what could he do? “All right.”

  “Why are you here anyway? Did you come to see me?”

  He shook his head. “I wished to avoid interrupting your work. I got to thinking I might have lost the rose quartz in the parking lot when I delivered Wanda.”

  “You had parked over here, as I recall.” She strode to the spaces along the road.

  “Yes.” He followed her, and they walked around, scanning the ground.

  “It’s not here,” she said. “Someone probably found it and pocketed it. If they’d turned it in, they would have brought it to me. I’m the lost and found department for the church.”

  “I assumed it was gone for good, but I figured I ought to check. What did your ex want?”

  Her mouth twisted. “He owes me a check. He said he had it. He didn’t. He used it as a ruse because he knew I would refuse to see him otherwise.” She touched his chest, and the heat curled through him. “Don’t worry about him. Trenton is a nonissue. You don’t need to be jealous.”

  “I’m not—much.”

  She hugged him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She chuckled. “I always knew you were hot stuff.”

  An SUV pulled into the parking lot, and, to his disappointment, Geneva disengaged. “That’s my uncle. You should go. Put some clothes on. I assume the hover scooter is nearby?”

  “It’s across the street.”

  “We’ll get together later? After work?”

  “Seven?”

  “It’s a date. Meet me at my apartment, and we’ll figure out what to do.” She gave him a little push. “Go. You don’t want to get the third degree from Uncle Mike.”

  “Okay.” He pecked her cheek and trotted across the street.

  * * * *

  “How’s Mrs. Hendricks?” Geneva slipped her arm through her uncle’s and turned him away from the street. Behind her back, she signaled Inferno to make his getaway. The hover scooter briefly appeared while he mounted it then it vanished.

  “Fine. Why was your alien friend wrapped in a blanket?” Uncle Mike persisted. He sniffed. “Do I smell an electrical fire?”

  “Let’s talk inside.” She beckoned and led him to the church. She couldn’t tell him the whole truth—that Inferno had become a roaring ball of fire, but she’d tell him as much as she could.

  “Stop stalling,” her uncle said as soon as the doors closed behind them. “Spill it.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Two nights later

  “You’re probably wondering why I called you here,” Mysk said.

  “You were a bit mysterious.” Inferno rocked in the high-backed office chair at Mysk Industries. The ’Topian tech magnate had asked the castaways to meet with him, saying he had an important, although not urgent, proposal to discuss. Intrigued, he, Tigre, Shadow, and Psy had trekked to Seattle. Wingman and Chameleon were unable to attend.

  Mysk steepled his fingers. “Shadow leaving Earth got me thinking—we should try to locate the lost ’Topians. As you remember, I was able to access Chameleon’s memories and recover the coordinates to their locations. We can build a fleet of ships and go find them. Reunite the diaspora.” Before the bombardment and his role in the resistance had been discovered, Chameleon had managed to evacuate several thousand ’Topians. They were spread out among a dozen haven planets.

  For a long moment, a shocked silence reverberated over the conference room.

  “That’s risky, isn’t it?” Psy was the first to speak. “We could encounter a Xeno patrol.”

  “I only left because my life was in danger. I wouldn’t have attempted it otherwise,” Shadow said. “And I came back before I got very far. Plus, I was one person on one ship. A fleet would draw a lot of attention. If the Xenos saw us, they could trace us to Earth, which would be disastrous for the humans. Or we’d lead them straight to the other ’Topians.”

  “We’ve discussed shoring up Earth’s defenses to combat a potential future Xeno invasion. Don’t we want to focus on that?” Inferno asked.

  “We can do both. Our people should be reunited. United we are stronger. If we banded together, it would help us fight the Xenos,” Mysk argued.

  “I’ve never liked hiding,” Tigre said. “’Topians, particularly Saberians, are courageous and proud.”

  “And for those of us who haven’t mated, the diaspora might offer a bigger pool of potential matches,” Mysk added. “I’m not expecting or suggesting we decide today or in even the near future, but if we decide we want to do this, we need to start planning. Since there is risk, the decision should be unanimous. But it’s been on my mind, and I’m requesting you consider it.”

  “Who are you suggesting would go? Would you leave Earth and your company?” Inferno asked.

  “We’d put out a call for volunteers. As you know, my group numbers in the hundreds. Off the top of my head, I know several who would jump at the chance to sign up for the adventure. As for me, I’ve spent fifty years building not just a company but an industry, and I love Earth. However, reuniting our people and possibly finding a genmate holds a lot of appeal.”

  “Who would run Mysk Industries if you left?” Inferno asked.

  Mysk shrugged. “Any one of several executives. No company is dependent upon a single individual. Since you all have become involved, possibly some of you.”

  “You’ve given us something to think about,” Psy said.

  Tigre nodded. “For sure. I’ll fill in Wingman and Chameleon.”

  “I’m surprised they didn’t come,” Mysk said.

  “Wingman is speaking at a multicultural event at Izzy’s school. Izzy is his genmate’s daughter. Chameleon is helping Kevanne get ready for Argent’s spring fling craft fair.

  Mysk nodded. “I understand.”

  After the meeting adjourned and they walked to their hover scooters, Inferno asked, “Do you think Mysk would really leave and give up his tech empire?”

  “I think so,” Psy said. “Fifty years without a mate? He’s very lonely. He tries to hide it, but I can feel it. He believes he has nothing keeping him here.”

  “Would any of you consider leaving?” he asked.

  “Not me. Meadow has a life here. She just reunited with her birth parents,” Psy said.

  “Me, either,” Shadow said. “For the same reasons. Mandy is established here.”

  Infe
rno concurred with a shake of his head. Now that he had Geneva, he would never leave Earth. They all looked at Tigre.

  His whiskers twitched. “You all have the best reasons for staying. I don’t have a genmate keeping me here, so…” He shrugged. “Maybe. It’s something worth considering. If I’m not bonded, I can at least serve our people.”

  Earth had provided the castaways with a haven, but safety didn’t bring happiness. Inferno empathized with his brother; once, he’d felt the same way.

  They hopped on their scooters, switched to hyperdrive, and, as a group, flew to Argent. From there, Shadow returned to the apartment he shared with Mandy, and he, Psy, and Tigre proceeded to the farmhouse.

  When they got home, Psy slapped Tigre on the shoulder. “Hey! Meadow is out of town on an antique-buying trip with Verna. How about we grab a beer at the Whitetail and shoot a little pool?”

  “Sure.” Tigre shrugged. There was no mistaking his brother’s glum mood—or the cause. The Saberian was the only unmated castaway, and Mysk’s five-decade single state indicated Tigre might never find a genmate.

  “You coming?” Psy asked Inferno. “Or are you seeing Geneva tonight?”

  “We didn’t make plans because I figured we’d be gone a long time. It’s too late to call her, so I’ll join you, but you go on, and I’ll catch up in a bit,” he urged, to give Psy time to talk to Tigre alone. Psy was the unofficial counselor of the group. If anyone could lift Tigre’s spirits, it would be Psy.

  Inferno sent Geneva a scheduled text, which she’d receive in the morning. Just got home. Miss you. Love you. See you at Millie’s for breakfast at 9 a.m.

  After kicking around the farmhouse for half an hour, he departed for the Whitetail. Killing more time, he cruised by Geneva’s. Her bungalow was dark and shuttered. Knowing she slept inside filled him with peace. He couldn’t imagine not having her in his life, and his hearts panged for poor Tigre. He hoped his brother found a female soon, so he could be happy, too.

  The skirmish with Trenton had knocked down the remaining barriers. He’d shocked himself by immolating, and he’d feared he might have caused a setback in their relationship. Instead, the opposite had happened. They’d grown closer.

  From her manner, her behavior, the glow in her eyes, he could tell she had finally accepted him, and his spirit was filled with joy. Now he knew what it meant to be whole.

  They would have been together this evening if Mysk hadn’t called them to the impromptu meeting.

  “See you in the morning. I love you,” he whispered, blew her a kiss, and headed for the bar. There wasn’t a single motorist on the road, and the only sign of life was an elderly man in his bathrobe walking his dog.

  As he passed the Church of Argent, his peripheral vision caught a shadowy movement by the entrance and then the door appeared to open.

  Had somebody gone inside the building? He doubted Geneva or her uncle would be working after 11 p.m. People sometimes went there to pray. But this late? What if vandals had slipped into the church?

  He made a U-turn and pulled into the lot. Should he go in? He scanned the area. The guy with the dog was farther down the street; he wouldn’t see him dismount. The quiet street was devoid of cars, except for a white one parked at the curb. There was nobody in it. Had its driver entered the church?

  He dismounted, reactivated the invisibility cloak, and bounded up the steps.

  The door was open, as he’d expected—Geneva had explained her uncle left it unlocked. He stuck his head inside. The interior was dark; if someone had entered, he would have switched on the lights, wouldn’t he? “Hello? Anybody here? Geneva? Pastor Mike?” he called, and then listened for a response.

  Nothing. He shrugged. Must have been my imagination.

  He shut the door firmly and headed for the scooter. The dog walker stood by the car at the curb, having paused to let the canine hike his leg on a tire. Inferno waved, recognizing the man by sight, although not name. He’d seen him around town. The man returned the greeting with a nod and a salute. After the guy shuffled out of sight, Inferno hopped on the scooter and zoomed off to the Whitetail.

  * * * *

  Geneva awakened to screaming sirens. Groaning, she squinted at her phone. Four minutes after midnight? Disgruntlement was followed by concern. Argent had such a small population, emergency sirens were rare. Hope it’s nothing too serious. She pounded her pillow into a fluffier pouf, rolled over, and went to sleep—to jolt awake five minutes later when her phone rang.

  Her uncle’s name appeared on the screen. She bolted upright. “Uncle Mike, what’s wrong?”

  “The church is on fire.”

  “Oh my God! Where are you?”

  “At the church. The fire department is here.”

  “I’m on my way!”

  She tore her nightgown off, pulled on sweats and sneakers, and raced to the garage. As soon as the door rolled up, she could smell the smoke. Orange flickers lit the night sky.

  Two fire engines and a couple of squad cars blocked the road while neighbors crowded the sidewalk. She parked Wanda a half a block away, leaped out, and ran to the church. Flames engulfed the roof over the vestibule, and, through the front windows, she spied fire eating away at the interior. Firefighters attacked the blaze from the inside and out, men shooting water at the roof while others battled inside with heavy hoses snaking through the open front doors.

  Her gaze searched the crowd for her uncle. Spotting him, she darted among the looky-loos and ran to his side. “Uncle Mike!” She hugged him. “How did this happen?”

  “No idea. A neighbor spotted the flames, called the fire department, and then phoned me.” Like her, he’d obviously dressed in a hurry. He wore jeans and a pullover—and bedroom slippers. He shook his head. “I’m assuming a spark from faulty wiring caused it. The building was old. Thank the good Lord it happened late at night when the building was empty.”

  She bit her lip. How about thanking God for preventing the fire? Oh, wait, God didn’t do that.

  She could never utter such a truth to her uncle. However, she empathized with the tragic loss. The church was the heart of the town. The hundred-year-old structure was one of the first buildings erected in Argent, and it continued to be a gathering place, a source of fellowship and hallowed hall of worship. She didn’t cotton to the latter, but many residents did, and the loss would hit them hard.

  Her uncle bowed his head and prayed, asking God to watch over the firefighters and save the church.

  She turned away and spied Inferno and two of his brothers. They saw her at the same time and hurried over. Inferno hugged her, and she buried her face against his chest, soaking in the comfort of his embrace. “Why are you here?” He didn’t live nearby.

  “After our meeting in Seattle, we came into town to grab a beer at the Whitetail. We were playing pool when a guy ran into the bar yelling that the church was on fire.” He looked at her uncle and shook his head. “I was here a little over an hour ago. Everything was fine.”

  “Why did you come this time of night?” her uncle asked.

  “I passed by on the way to the Whitetail, and I thought I saw somebody enter the church. I peeked inside, but I didn’t see anything. I should have investigated further!”

  Firefighters had doused much of the blaze. Flames no longer shot from the roof or flickered behind the windows, melting from the heat. Black char darkened the exterior. Four firefighters emerged from inside and marched over to where the fire captain conferred with a couple of sheriff’s deputies. She recognized the captain as a parishioner. A firefighter handed the captain an object.

  Old Gus from the bait shop, in pajamas and robe, approached the authorities. After speaking with them, he scanned the crowd. His gaze settled on Geneva’s group, and he pointed. The captain and the officers eyed them from across the lot. Of course they’d want to speak to Uncle Mike. He’s the pastor, she thought, trying to shake off a bad premonition.

  While the male officer stayed talking with Gus and jott
ing notes, the female officer strutted toward them, accompanied by the fire captain.

  Did Tigre just growl? She glanced at him with a frown then turned her full attention to the authorities.

  “Wish I wasn’t here, Pastor Mike,” the fire captain greeted her uncle.

  “I’m glad you are here, Phil,” Uncle Mike replied.

  “This is Sgt. Kelley from the sheriff’s department.” He introduced the female officer. She eyed them with an assessing gaze, lingering on Tigre before dismissing him with a curl of her lip. The Saberian growled and bared his fangs.

  “Do you want the good news or the bad news first?” Phil asked.

  “Give me the bad news first,” her uncle replied.

  “Let’s start with the good news,” he said contrarily. “The damage isn’t as bad as it might look. You got lucky because the heavy oak doors to the nave were closed, which contained the fire. The vestibule will need to be rebuilt from the foundation up, but the nave and office area sustained only water damage.”

  “Praise God. Thank the Lord!”

  Geneva bit her tongue. How about thanking the fire department? God didn’t exactly send a rainstorm to put out the blaze, did he?

  “What’s the bad news?”

  “It appears the fire was caused by arson,” Kelley answered while glaring at Tigre.

  Swishing his tail, he snarled.

  What is wrong with these two? She itched to smack them both.

  “Arson? Are you sure? I assumed faulty wiring. The building is old…”

  Phil shook his head. “An accelerant was used. We can tell by the deeper char pattern on the floor. Someone splashed an accelerant and lit it.”

  “Good lord—who would do that?” Uncle Mike gasped.

  “Well, that’s the question,” Sgt. Kelley said.

  “What kind of accelerant? Like gasoline?” Geneva asked.

  “That’s what’s commonly used in arson cases, but we don’t know yet,” Phil replied. “Because we’re an all-volunteer force, we don’t have an arson unit, so I’m referring the case to the county sheriff’s department for further investigation.” He motioned to Kelley. “We’ll assist them with whatever they require.”