The stones surrounding the fireplace were still warm from last night’s fire and the potbelly stove near the kitchen was full of chunks of burning wood. The cabin was pretty cozy. Or it would be with a few quilts. And thermal underwear.
Henry and his parents had worked hard to make the space inviting and beautiful. It was just as gorgeous from the outside, with two-story timber walls and a wood-shingle roof covered in snow. He’d strung solar-powered Christmas lights all around it after he and Vay had met. Their battery charged up all day so they could shine through most of the night when the light sensors kicked them on. The place was like a postcard, inside and out.
“You live here?” she said.
“I do.”
“It’s lovely.”
He laughed, remembering the running gag from their first conversation. “Not bad for a primitive planet.”
“What?” She looked genuinely shocked—and a little scared, which was strange.
“Sorry, I was just doing a call-back to Christmas Eve. Remember, I kept making jokes about you being from another planet because you’d never heard of Christmas?” Or birthdays. Or tasted coffee.
He still hadn’t figured out how she was so sheltered, but he had a few ideas. The most probable theory was that she’d been raised in some sort of cultist compound. His favorite idea was that she actually was an alien. He felt his smile broaden at the thought, but managed not to tell her about it.
“Right. The joke.” She let out a nervous laugh.
He tried to shift the conversation toward something that would help put her at ease, but barreled right into probably the least safe topic.
“How long are you in town for?”
Please say, ‘forever’, he chanted in his mind.
“A few days.”
“Oh.” He tried to hide his disappointment. He wasn’t sure how successful he was.
Vay took his hand in hers. “But I’d like to spend them with you. If that’s okay.”
“Okay? That’s great.”
He was relieved when her smile became more relaxed.
“I can make us hot cocoa,” he said. “I promise you’ll like it much more than coffee.”
She made a face and laughed. “That wouldn’t be hard. I tried to develop a taste for coffee, like you said people do, but still haven’t managed.”
“If you hate it so much, why bother?”
“It reminded me of you.”
She must have seen how stunned he was at her admission, because she said, “What?”
“It’s nothing. I’m just glad to know you thought of me since Christmas.”
“You made quite an impression,” she said.
“A good one, I hope.”
“You could say that.”
She was here, after all. How had she even found his cabin? Maybe she asked around town. He didn’t want to look too closely at this…miracle.
“My work takes place mostly at night,” she said. “But I should have a few hours in the afternoons and evenings.”
“That’s fine. You can take naps here.” He gestured to the couch and the loft upstairs. Warmth flooded his body at the thought of her in his bed—even alone.
Or not…
“That’s sweet, but my superiors probably wouldn’t approve of that. I need to check in with them frequently.”
“Right. That makes sense.” Sort of. His theory about her being in a cult was gaining traction. “Have you eaten? I could make us something.”
“I’m not hungry, but thanks.” She angled her head toward the couch and shrugged one shoulder. “Could we sit and talk?”
“Sure.”
No matter what she needed or why she was here, he was grateful to be with her again. And if this was all they could have—just a few days—he’d gladly take any and every moment she could share with him.
Chapter Three
Vay let out a huge yawn as she flew in yet another widening circle over the forest. She’d only managed to get a couple of hours in her regen bed and she couldn’t have cared less. Her cheeks were tired from laughing, making her that much more aware of the smile that seemed to be permanently installed on her face.
She’d spent the day with Henry. Almost the entire day. Aside from dodging a few uncomfortable questions about how she had found him, she had even managed to be mostly open and honest with him.
She’d had to be careful that he didn’t figure out the truth about her. The last thing she wanted was for him to receive a mindwipe.
Somehow, knowing that he was thinking about her and had fond memories of their time together on Christmas Eve made her feel a warmth deep in her body unlike anything she’d ever experienced. It was like happiness, only more intense. And it was systemic.
She wriggled in her chair a bit, as thinking about him made her belly fill with tingling energy. Energy that spread lower, making her ache in a way she hadn’t been able to work up the nerve to explore. Yet.
It was new. Everything with him was new. And she wanted to experience whatever she could in the time they had.
If only there were more of it.
A light flickered to life on her command console. Not from the scans she was running, searching for that errant signal, but from the communications array. She’d forgotten to check in.
“Crap.”
Kira was going to be unhappy. She might even pull Vay back to the mansion where the First Contact committee was headquartered.
There was no way she would leave without saying goodbye to Henry. But she wasn’t ready to do that yet.
She would just have to talk Kira into letting Vay stay. She tapped on the control to open the connection, feeling her smile fade to more normal levels.
Instead of her commanding officer’s angular features filling the com-screen, she saw a man with a strong chin and narrow eyes. His complete lack of hair was helpful in jarring her out of her surprise.
“Ari? I thought you were in the Himalayas.”
“I am. And I see where you’ve been assigned.”
Double-crap.
Ari had been piloting the shuttle when Vay insisted on making the stop in the nearby town. He’d risked getting a reprimand by indulging her curiosity.
“I forgot to check in,” she said. “I need to send my ‘all’s well’ code.”
“I sent it for you. I know that Kira is holding everyone to extremely high standards in following protocols.”
He was covering for her. Again.
“Kira’s not that bad. She’s new to being planetary liaison, and doesn’t want to do anything that will endanger us making our case to the High Council on behalf of Earth.”
General Serath—Adam—and his Earthling bondmate Evelyn were en route to Sadr-4 to try to convince the leaders of the Coalition to establish a First Contact committee on Earth. It was much earlier than was standard procedure, but the circumstances were highly unusual.
For one thing, the previous planetary liaison was in General Serath’s brig awaiting trial. And for another, the growing number of Earthlings who had learned of the alien operations on Earth had already taken matters into their own hands, forming the Department of Homeworld Security.
Two of the Earthlings on Earth’s ad-hoc First Contact committee had joined Serath to both observe and help make their case—Brendan’s sister, Paige, and his government liaison, Eric.
Paige was an environmental scientist, and planned to offer her skills and knowledge of Earth’s incredible resources to help restore the ecosystems of planets that couldn’t support life without domes anymore.
Eric was going along to negotiate on Earth’s behalf and offer a less overt boon to the Coalition. He and Sorca were pair-bonded, as baffling as that still was to Vay. And Sorca planned to leave the fleet to stay on Earth with Eric if the Department of Homeworld Security wasn’t officially recognized.
Given her cultural assessment of the High Council, Vay doubted it would be enough to have Earth’s First Contact committee approved. All the more reason to en
joy her time with Henry while she could. If she had any more.
“You can relax. This transmission has been encrypted so that no one can listen in,” Ari said.
“How did you manage that?”
“Brendan. His understanding of our communications technology is impressive.”
If only Henry had a skill like that to offer. Maybe he could join Earth’s First Contact committee as well. He wouldn’t need a mindwipe then. They could be together, like the others and their bondmates.
“Vay, we can’t do anything that might hurt the chances of Earth’s First Contact committee being recognized.”
Ari’s booming voice was stern. Almost like he was giving her a warning. He couldn’t know about Henry, could he?
“I want Earth to be safe,” she said. “I won’t jeopardize that.”
“Good.” He let out a long sigh. “The last time we were in this area and we made that stop—”
Triple-crap. He knew something.
“Ari, don’t.”
Brendan might have helped Ari encode their communication, but she still wasn’t comfortable with them coming out and talking about Henry openly. There was no such thing as a completely secure system.
“Listen to me,” Ari said. “You came back changed. You’d found that…celebratory fruitcake. Maybe no one else noticed, but you and I have been stationed together since we were first assigned to the fleet. I know how much of an impression that fruitcake made on you. Earth fruitcake is appealing. I get that. The pretty colors, the flavors—”
“I didn’t eat it,” she said.
“What?”
“I couldn’t bring myself to. It’s too pretty. I put it in a stasis pod.”
That she kept under her pillow back in her room. Ari didn’t need to know that.
She knew she’d derailed his metaphor. She wanted him to stop talking about it—to stop talking about Henry. But Ari was stubborn.
He ran a hand over his face. When he looked at her again, his eyes were full of sympathy. Maybe even pity.
“A stasis pod is a good place for it,” he said. “You can think about it and remember whatever fun you had finding that fruitcake. But you can’t take it back to the Arbiter with you. You can’t hold on to that fruitcake forever. Eventually, you’re going to have to let it go. The sooner you do, maybe the less it will hurt.”
“I appreciate you looking out for me. I really do. But this is my decision. If I want to experience more fruitcake, that’s my choice.”
He shook his head and mumbled, “What is it about this planet?”
“Ari?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
He let out a little snort and smirked. “Just looking out for my team. Watch your back, okay? Earth isn’t all fun and fruitcakes. And with a Scorpiian running planetside, we all need to be careful.”
“I will be.” She thought of an Earth expression that matched very well with Ari’s mission tracking down the Centaurans he was after. “Good hunting.”
He snorted again, his smile widening. “Safe journeys.”
The transmission ended. Vay felt a lump form in her throat.
Whatever else was happening on and with Earth, this assignment was bringing the people she was stationed with closer together. It was making what they did more meaningful somehow. She hoped that would last when they all were inevitably reassigned.
Chapter Four
“Brachiation. That would explain it.” Henry looked up at the bare trees surrounding him. “If they get around by swinging through the trees, they wouldn’t leave much evidence behind.”
The fog from his breath puffed around his face in a billowing cloud. Once again, he’d forgotten his scarf. And hat. And gloves. At least he wasn’t planning to stay out long.
“Except they’re famous for leaving footprints.” He returned his gaze to the snow-covered ground. “Big footprints—hence the name. But even that evidence isn’t too common, so maybe… Maybe I should stop talking to myself.”
And save his voice for Vay. She’d be at the cabin in a few hours. He hoped whatever work she’d done the night before had gone well and that she was getting some rest. He couldn’t wait to see her again.
They had talked all day yesterday. All day, and he never once became bored or tired. He realized the newness of their relationship was contributing to how well things seemed to be going. They’d also spent a lot of time talking about his favorite topics, like scifi movies and books—which seemed to absolutely fascinate her. But even the lulls in the conversations had been companionable.
He loved spending time with her. He’d never clicked with anyone like he did with Vay. It was amazing.
A stick cracked loudly ahead of him, pulling him out of his thoughts and back into his surroundings. The hairs on his arms stood on end. He should have been paying more attention.
Aside from the recent cold snap and thick snow, the winter had been relatively mild. The black bears in the region had been known to leave their dens throughout the winter when the oak trees had a good crop of acorns. Like the trees he was walking through at that moment.
“Please don’t be a bear.”
He looked up into the dark eyes of a black bear.
“When I thought climate change was a threat to my existence, this is not what I pictured.”
The bear let out a low growl.
“Easy, fella.” Henry tried to remember what to do. His thoughts were scattered. “When a bear attacks, I’m supposed to try to look big, right? And make a lot of noise?”
The bear charged him.
“Oh, crap.”
Henry started waving his arms above his head and jumping up and down. He yelled as loud as he could, making gibberish sounds that grew more desperate by the second.
The bear suddenly skidded to a halt only a few feet away. It turned around, and with a startled roar, it ran away.
Henry stared after it, wondering what had just happened. Then he started to laugh.
“I can’t believe that worked.”
His skin still felt electrified from the adrenaline. He let his head drop back, eyes closed and face pointed toward the sky. Relief washed over him as he took deep, steadying breaths—until he felt warm breath flow over his face in return.
“I’m going to open my eyes now,” he said. “And I am not going to see a bear about to drop on my face.”
He slowly turned around as he opened his eyes, looking up at whatever was in the tree above him. Only it wasn’t in the tree. It was standing, hovering over him.
Henry stumbled backward, tripped over his own feet, and landed hard on his ass. His brain struggled to process what he was seeing.
“Oh my God.”
He was staring at a seven-and-a-half foot tall Sasquatch. A Sasquatch!
Its face had a flat nose and broad mouth surrounded by bluish-tinged, wrinkled skin. Most of its head and all of its body was covered in a thick coat of white fur. Its eyes were bright blue, with horizontal pupils that almost bisected its irises.
“Gorilla,” he muttered to himself. “It’s like a giant, albino gorilla. Except for the eyes... Blue, not pink.”
The Sasquatch planted two of its arms on its hips…and crossed the other pair over its chest.
Four arms. Four. Arms.
Henry’s throat was so tight, it hurt to swallow. The creature leaned forward and exhaled another huge breath from its nostrils, blowing Henry’s hair away from his face.
“An albino gorilla?” Its deep voice sounded remarkably…huffy. “That is offensive.”
Henry let out a high-pitched laugh. “It can talk. Of course it can talk. Because this is a delusion. I’ve obviously gone insane.”
“Excuse me, but I’m not an ‘it’. I’m primarily male.”
“Primarily?”
The Sasquatch stood up and fluffed the fur around its cheeks. At least, it looked like fur. Until it sharpened into stiff quills that quivered like a defensive porcupine’s.
“I’m
sorry,” Henry said. “This is kind of new to me. I’ve never met a Sasquatch before.”
“A what?”
“A Sasquatch. You know—Bigfoot? Yeti? Gigantopithecus?” He always looked to the fossil record first to explain cryptids.
It—he—the Bigfoot rolled his eyes. It extended one of its arms to the ground to balance as it lifted a foot, and pointed at it with yet another arm. “Do my feet look big to you?”
“Uh, proportionally? I guess not. But I don’t know what else to call you.”
“How about ‘Craig’?”
“Why would I call you that?”
“Because it’s my chosen Earth name.”
“Earth name…”
Henry’s heartbeat sped up. He’d always dismissed the possibility of cryptids being of extra-terrestrial origin. But seeing ‘Craig’ in the flesh, it made a hell of a lot more sense than this lifeform evolving from something native to Earth.
“You’re an alien,” Henry said.
“I’m a Lyrian. Educate yourself.” Craig huffed out another big breath through his nostrils. “But I suppose that would be futile. If you did learn anything about us, the Sadirians would swoop in and erase your memories. You can’t throw a tnergog without them trying to give somebody a mindwipe.”
The Sasquatch… Lyrian… Craig made an offhanded gesture with one of his arms.
Henry didn’t know how to respond to Craig’s statement. He was having trouble forming coherent thoughts. To make things worse, his nose started to tingle a moment before he let out a huge sneeze. He managed to turn his head to the side at the last instant.
Craig pounded two of his hands into the ground on either side of Henry’s legs and let out an ear-splitting roar that sounded like a cross between an angry bear and a constipated elephant. Henry caught a glimpse of teeth as he fell backward—so many teeth—like the inside of a Great White’s mouth.
“Please don’t eat me,” he yelled. “It was just a sneeze.”
“What is ‘sneeeeeze’?” Craig drew out the word.
Entry Visa (The Department of Homeworld Security Book 5) Page 2
