Taurian

by J. S. Wilder

A varoom vibrated as she turned a key into a small lock. The car jerked as she pulled a lever and stomped her foot down on a metal plate.

  “Hzruk!” he said when the car lurched forward and into the street. Trees and houses zoomed by. It was almost as fast as flying.

  “Don’t worry,” she patted his hand, “I’ve never had a wreck yet.”

  That’s not what bothered him. What he was worried about was all the other drivers she sped past, weaving in and out of their path as they zinged along the road. If she thought this was fast, he needed to take her flying on his back.

  Minutes later, she pulled along a building. When he opened the door, she clicked off his seatbelt so he could exit the vehicle. The scent of cheese and tomato and spices filled his nostrils and his stomach growled in anticipation. If this pizza was half as good as it smelled, he might consider visiting Earth more often.

  Seeing another male with his arm around a woman, Taurian copied the move on Dena.

  She shoved his arm off. “We’re not a couple or even dating, all right? This is just lunch…that’s it.”

  “If that’s what you have to tell yourself.” He grinned and she rolled her eyes.

  She shook out her hand, frowning.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Sorry, just my cut acting up again.” She shook her head. “It’s not infected, I’ve poured more antibiotics on it than would cure a horse. Guess it’s just an ache from healing.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” He paused on the street and snatched her elbow. “Maybe we should take you to a doctor.”

  “I’m fine.” She smiled. “I would know if there was something wrong. There’s no redness or puffiness or any signs of infection. Don’t worry about it.” She took off her bandage and tossed it into the can outside the doorway. “See? I don’t even need that anymore, it’s scared over. Stop worrying and let’s eat.”

  She had to be right about her wound or she’d tell him or seek a physician. He pushed aside his concern and followed her.

  Inside the building, flavors wafted together until he was certain he’d encountered some food aphrodisiac. Circles of food steamed from a long table.

  “Help yourself.” Dena handed him a plate. “Everything’s good here so dig in.”

  He snapped up two full pizzas, but when they wouldn’t fit on the plate she gave him, he stacked them on top of each other. Then he grabbed three more: one with so much meat he was sure they’d used the entire animal to make it.

  Dena placed three slices of what looked like a pizza with vegetables and he followed her to the table.

  “I’m sorry, sir.” A young man pointed to Taurian’s pile. “But you’ll have to pay extra if you don’t eat all of those.”

  Seeing Taurian’s choices, Dena hissed, “That’s way too much food.”

  “The day a flimsy circle of dough can fill up a dragon is the day I’ll stop hunting.” His voice carried farther than he realized as the entire restaurant went quiet and Dena’s eyes grew wide. Shit, now how had he screwed up?

  Chapter Ten

  Dena forced out a laugh. Relief spread through into her mind toward the other patrons and waiter either shaking their heads or chuckling too at Taurian’s words of being a dragon and thankfully looked like they believed her about it being a joke. Taurian juggled half a dozen full pizzas on his tray. The staff were probably taking bets on how much he’d actually eat, but her gamble was on that he’d finish them all and give the buffet a loss. To make up for it, she’d have to leave a generous tip. She nudged Taurian’s elbow and tilted her head to the empty chairs.

  After the restaurant resumed its chatter, her stomach finally calmed down enough to eat. Taurian, though, he had no problems and ate a whole pizza. If she ate that much, she'd be in a food coma. Her dragon didn’t show any signs of slowing down.

  She picked up a slice of her veggie pizza. My dragon. No way was he hers. And this wasn’t a date. He wasn't human nor from Earth. How could she entertain the idea of a relationship with someone like that no matter how hot he was or how much of a great kisser or how many times she dreamed of visiting other possible worlds. Nope, the guy was too much of a player. He'd even admitted to having multiple females from other planets.

  Two women passed by and Taurian nodded in their direction, then returned his attention to Dena. They giggled and went to a back table never taking their stares off him.

  Yup, the guy was trouble; she'd be a fool to fall for him. Even if he didn’t return their stares, he was too handsome and sexy for his own good. She’d have to beat off women constantly.

  She put down her pizza and wiped off a piece of tomato sauce smeared across his chin. A snap of desire flooded her, dampness pooling between her sex, a longing to feel Taurian deep inside her, and she gasped from the longing. Did he feel it too? His eyes widened, staring into her face, then dipping to her mouth.

  The temperature of the pizza joint suddenly climbed thirty degrees. Was it just her? She glanced around, but no one else seemed to be baking. Her lust-filled desires were going haywire. She cleared her throat. Time to change the subject before she did something she’d regret later.

  “So, what's your planet like? Is it arid or cold or full of lush jungles?”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “Why the sudden interest?”

  “I've been curious since I realized you were an alien.” She took another bite of pizza before she blurted out that she wanted to kiss him again.

  “Didn’t my brother, Kohl, tell you about Renjer?”

  “Some.” She wiped her hands on her napkin. “But I wanna hear more about it...from your viewpoint.”

  “Not much to tell. It storms almost constantly.” He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “Before the Tryns came, we had monthly festivals. Everyone from nearby planets were invited. The celebrations lasted for days, sometimes weeks. Games and dancing and flying races for those who could soar the skies. Hunting and singing too. So many visitors we had several castles built for the occasions. It was one of the few times our father smiled since Kohl's mother died.” The blissful expression on his face clouded at his last words.

  “I see.” She pushed aside her half-eaten pizza. Desperate to have Taurian’s smile back, she asked, “And what were you best at...dancing?”

  He shook his head once as if mentally shifting gears. “Oh, I am an excellent dancer. But I was best at singing.”

  She leaned her elbow on the table. “How can a dragon...I mean Renjerian sing?”

  “Haven't you heard the Earth stories of dragons harboring gold or treasure?” He grinned and stole her breath with the twinkle in his silvery-blue eyes.

  All she could do was nod. Her heart thumping against her chest at the dimple in his cheek. God, he was gorgeous.

  “It's said when a Renjer sings on Earth, the rocks change to gold in appreciation.”

  She snorted. “And what happens to the rocks on Renjer? Are they all gold?” She crossed her arms.

  “Mostly.” He reached across the table, sliding her plate toward him. “You gonna finish that?”

  She waved a hand for him to take it. “How is it you're still hungry? You ate like five whole ones already.”

  “Six.”

  “Ugh, I wish I had your metabolism.” She rubbed her arms at a sudden chill in the restaurant, but no one appeared suspicious...except, of course, the dragon in human form across from her.

  After he ate her food too, his gaze drifted to the buffet again. Several of the wait staff were whispering in the corner and shaking their heads, looking in Taurian’s direction.

  “Ah, unless you're starving,” she placed cash on the table with a tip for their bill, “I think they have a limit to the all-you-can-eat motto.”

  “Then they need better ovens to cook faster.” He winked.

  “How about we top you off with dessert.” She stood. “Sammy’s ice cream shop is around the corner. I know she'd love someone to clean out her stock and get new supplies in.” Her friend was barely m
aking ends meet like Dena. And as much as she wanted to help her friend, daily trips for ice cream didn't work with her figure or her budget.

  They left Mario's Pizza, and she swore an audible, collective sigh echoed from the staff.

  “What did you think about the meal?” She jerked a thumb back in the direction of the restaurant behind them as they hiked up the sidewalk. “I mean I know you devoured the food, but was it tasty? How does it compare to dishes in your world?”

  He arched an eyebrow at her. “Do you really want to know?”

  “Of course.” She blushed, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear. “Why not? I mean it’s not like every day someone gets to meet a real live alien.”

  A couple walking in the opposite direction of them did a double-take.

  Damn, she needed to be careful what she said. But it wasn’t like many would believe her anyway. The idea of scientists carting Taurian off sent a pain to her chest. She’d wanted that before…now, it was about getting to know him.

  “What type of food do you all eat?”

  “Anything that we can catch.” He didn’t look her way, and she couldn’t tell if he teased her or not.

  Images of torn flesh and blood dripping from his mouth made her queasy. “No plant life?” She swallowed. As a vet, she was vegan whenever possible. The idea that he ate animals struck an off-chord with her. Still, she respected people’s taste and their own convictions.

  “Skiltekx and wild boar are the best, but we do have Rishj bread which Kohl likes because its sweater than rolls. Vonsur berries, which I make a dessert with and you won’t ever want to have anything else again.”

  “Oh, you cook?” That was refreshing. She always wanted a man who could make a decent meal. And if it had berries, then she could eat it and not go off her diet. As long as it wasn’t a bazillion calories.

  “When I can.” He shrugged. “Haven’t had time for much of anything since the Tryns came.” His voice took on a sadness that she found herself laying a hand on his arm.

  “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  He shifted his arm so that he held her hand and her pulse jumped. “Get me back into my form so I can go fight.”

  On the street corner, they paused. Pedestrians wove around them. Taxis and cars whizzing past with an occasional honk or squealing brakes or police siren in the distance.

  It felt as if time stood while gazing into his eyes. There was a sorrow, a vulnerability she hadn’t seen before. Had it always been there and she’d been too busy that she hadn’t noticed because she’d been drooling over him the whole time?

  A bell dinged behind them. “Dena!” cried Sammy. “I can’t believe it’s you. Haven’t seen you in weeks. And who is this?”

  Dena blinked, falling out of her trance. “Hi, girl! It’s good to see you too. This is Taurian and we came for the finest ice cream in New Orleans.”

  “Well, then step inside.” Sammy held open the door. “I haven’t had a customer all day as fine as you two.”

  “Thanks.” Taurian stepped inside and inhaled deeply. “What is that smell?”

  Nothing like the scent of sweet cream, chocolate, thirty flavors of ice cream filled the air.

  “You’re not from around here, are you?” Sammy gave Dena a look that said what’s wrong with him?

  “Oh, he’s from out of town.” That wouldn’t fool Sammy. Crap. What to say that would throw off Sammy’s usual thousand and one questions…“Raised in a cult. They weren’t allowed to have sweets.”

  “That’s a damn shame.” Sammy patted down her tight gray bun as if ensuring all the hairs were in place. “Come with me and I’ll let you try a sample of everything so we can find your favorite flavor.”

  Taurian allowed the woman to take his arm, leading him deeper into her shop. What would be his favorite? Hers was butterscotch. It had flakes of real butterscotch mixed into it.

  “What do you recommend I start with?” Taurian leaned on the counter while Sammy whipped behind it and grabbed a tasting spoon.

  “For you?” She sized him up, tapping her foot as she surveyed the choices. “I think we should work our way up from vanilla all the way to rocky road.”

  “Dena,” Taurian turned to her. “What’s your preferred flavor?”

  You. Her mouth went dry and she licked her lips. “I’ll tell you later. I don’t want to…influence your decision.” Before her knees gave way from wanting to kiss him right there in front of Sammy, in front of the entire world, she plopped herself down in a chair. Her idle hands picking apart a napkin into tiny pieces. She wished she could rip up her desires as easily.

  “Try the vanilla.” Sammy offered him a dollop on the small pink tasting spoon.

  He sniffed it at first, then after getting a nod from Dena, put the entire thing in his mouth and started crunching. Sammy gawked and Dena shot up from her chair.

  “No…uh…just the ice cream part, don’t eat the plastic.” Dena rushed to grab a paper ice cream cup.

  Too late. Taurian spat out the ice cream and spoon on to the tile floor. “That’s disgusting. How can you eat that?”

  “Just where did you say he was from?” Sammy frowned and looked from her to Taurian and back again.

  Embarrassment flooded her, but she couldn’t tell her friend the truth either…that she was taking an alien out for ice cream. “Sorry, he was in a cult.”

  “One that doesn’t believe in utensils?” Sammy wrung out a rag and handed it to Dena.

  “Guess not.” Dena glared at him and hissed. “We’re leaving as soon as the mess you made is cleaned up.” If Sammy didn’t buy their story, she was going to have to come up with something else then Sammy would know she was lying.

  Sammy trudged over with a damp mop and wiped up the spot Dena had just cleared of the pieces of plastic spoon and ice cream. “You’ve got a strange friend there.”

  “You’ve no idea.” Dena threw away the trash and turned to Taurian. “Come on, let’s go.”

  “But I haven’t tasted the other flavors.” His lips dipped into a pout.

  “You’ve had enough for now.” She pushed him toward the door. “Sorry about the mess, Sammy. Thanks again.” Her face was burning hot from the mortification of what Taurian did.

  “I’m still hungry.” Taurian let her get him outside. He sounded like a spoiled two-year-old.

  Chapter Eleven

  Crunchy and not in a pleasant way. Taurian spat out the ice cream and pink stick. Why do humans eat this stuff? Sure, the smell was divine of mint in the shop, but the texture and flavor of the pink thing was bland.

  Taurian sucked at his back tooth and dislodged a piece of the pink utensil the woman had given him with the ice cream. “Why would anyone serve something that inedible with a dessert?”

  “Guess they don't have silverware on Renjer, huh.” She dragged him across the street to her car. “Next time I'll buy you a cone.”

  “What's that delicious smell?” He pulled out of her grasp and followed the smoky scent around a corner.

  “Wait, Taurian,” she squealed behind him.

  Now that was something he could eat by the truckload by the smell of it. He turned two corners and skidded to a stop in front of a yellow bannered cart. Dena plowed into his back.

  “Ow!” She stepped away and rubbed her chin. “Where are you going?”

  “Here.” he gestured to the yellow sign. “The smell reminds me a bit of wild boars that roam our lands.”

  “You gonna buy anything, Mister?”

  “Yes, give me your whole wagon.”

  “No!” Dena screeched out. “Sorry, he's from out of town. How about two hot dogs with everything.”

  Taurian grumbled as the vendor placed two small links into two rolls that wasn't enough food to feed a hatchling.

  “Thanks.” Dena paid for the food and handed both to Taurian. “C’mon.”

  He followed her back to her car and took a bite of the food. The smoked, salty flavor hit his tongue along wit
h a sweet and spiciness. Within seconds, both hot dogs, as Dena had called them, were gone. She spun on her heel and took off down the street in the direction of where they left her car.

  Taurian shook his head at her refusal to cater to his every whim. Most females did whatever he wanted. He took a step after her. But another scent drew his attention. This one feral and smelling of rotting meat and mold. His gaze snapped to a dark walkway between two buildings. Was it the Tryn that had crossed over to Earth with him?

  A muffled scream sounded from the alley and Taurian bolted forward. Someone needed his help and if it was the Tryn, then a human was no match for it.

  Rounding the corner, Taurian found the beast bent over a woman. Her hair was spread across the ground above her head and the giant Tryn raised its clawed hand, ready to strike. Taurian collided into the Tryn. Both smashed into the ground and away from the woman. She scrambled up and ran out of the alley, not looking back once.

  The Tryn backhanded Taurain. He flew into the brick building, his vision blurring.

  “Die, Prelk scum!” Taurian pushed away from the wall. His fists swung at the demon. In Taurian’s human form, the Tryn towered over him by a foot and a half. But he didn't care if the monster was a hundred feet tall, it was going down.

  Taurian pounded the demon’s flesh. The sound of fists on meat echoed in the alleyway.

  In a split second, the Tryn dodged his swing. His elbow came up and clipped Taurian under his chin. Then the enemy snatched up Taurian as though he weighed nothing and smashed Taurian’s back against his knee. Pain shot down into Taurian's legs. And when he was dropped to the ground, the Tryn kicked him over and over in the stomach. Taurian couldn't get enough air into his lungs. Every stomp sent pain whirling through him to where he couldn't think much less breathe.

  “Stupid, stupid, Renjerian,” the Tryn spat. “I almost had that female. She would've birthed a legion for me within a fortnight.” It kicked Taurian again. “But you had to interfere. Guess that means I'll have to take your woman as a replacement.”

  Dena! “Touch her and I'll rip your tail off and choke you with it,” he gasped, catching his breath as every muscle in his body convulsed in pain.