by Smith, S. E.
Walkyr laid his head back against the pad and closed his eyes. “For some reason, I’m rather glad I have no idea of what you are talking about,” he muttered.
She stood up and walked closer to the cage. He peered up at her through the bars. She was holding a steaming mug between her hands.
“Who are you?” she quietly asked.
Walkyr gazed up at her. “Prince Walkyr d’Rojah,” he replied with a wry smile.
She looked at him with a skeptical expression. “So, is Prince your first name or a title?” she asked.
“My title. Do you think perhaps we could continue this conversation after I have healed my injuries?” he inquired.
She looked at his leg. “I had Heather X-ray it before we loaded you in the back of Chad’s truck. Fortunately, you only suffered a hairline fracture of the fibula. You have really dense bones, by the way. That would explain why you are so damn heavy. We had to use the winch to get you up the ramp and into the truck,” she replied.
He looked at her with a disbelieving scowl. “I can’t believe you lied to me. You swore you would not let that woman near me with her primitive medical tools,” he said with a shake of his head.
“No, I didn’t. I promised not to let anyone hurt you if you took the sedative,” she corrected.
“I only agreed because you threatened to leave me there if I didn’t,” he retorted.
He pulled the portable medical device from the pouch around his waist, turned it on, and switched the scanner to bone regeneration. Running it along the back of his leg, he felt immediate relief from the throbbing pain. He switched the device to tissue repair and ran the device over his calf before he moved the soothing beams over the other bruises on his shoulder, arm, and hip.
“What are you doing?” she curiously asked.
He shot her a frown. “Healing the damage from my collision with the transport,” he answered.
The skeptical expression returned to her face. “With a flashlight?” she scoffed.
He shook his head in irritation. “This is not a flashlight. It is a portable medical repair unit that my brother developed,” he explained, holding up the device before sliding it back into a pouch at his waist.
“Yeah, right. I see you’ve been watching a few too many science fiction movies when you’re not out killing people,” she sarcastically retorted.
“The men I was trying to kill are traitors to my world. I need to keep this situation contained. How many humans know about me?” he demanded, twisting around in the cage until he was facing the lock.
“Traitors…. Your world…. You shouldn’t move! Your leg….,” she stammered, backing up several steps.
He looked at her and gave her a sharp-toothed grin. “Healed. Now, will you let me out of this cage, or am I expected to get out of it myself?” he queried.
She shook her head and looked at him with wide, wary eyes. Her lips parted, then she clamped them together, and placed the cup of steaming liquid on a long shelf near the steps leading into the house.
At first he thought she was going to unlock the cage, but then she reached behind her and pulled a disturbingly familiar device out of her back pocket. He paled when he saw it and scooted to the back of the cage, far from the opening. Raising his hands in the air, he kept his gaze locked on the black box in her hand.
“Be careful with that thing. If it is what I think it is, neither my cat nor I like it. I’ve seen what it can do,” he said.
She waved the taser at him. “Good. Then I guess you are going to answer my questions without giving me any trouble,” she snapped.
“I will answer your questions if you answer mine,” he countered, slowly lowering his hands.
She shook her head and gave him a grin that sent a shiver of unease down his spine. “I don’t think you are in a position to negotiate. First off, I want you to remove that nice little belt you have on. Keep one hand in the air and remove it with your other hand. I’ll take the weird holster at your side and the blade in your boot, too. If you try anything, I’ll light you up brighter than Macy’s on Christmas Day,” she threatened.
“Why don’t you take my clothing as well? That way you could leave me completely defenseless,” he snapped.
He was surprised when he saw her cheeks turn a rosy shade of red. His irritation turned to amusement. His badass female—another phrase he’d learned from his new sisters—wasn’t as bad as she pretended.
Empowered by that knowledge, he did as she asked. He threaded his utility belt through the bars of the cage before he removed his laser pistol and slid it through as well. Finally, he removed the blade he had sheathed in his left boot. He had to admit he was impressed with her thoroughness. When he was done, she carefully knelt and pulled the items out of his reach.
“Are you going to ask me questions or simply leave me guessing what you wish to know?” he asked, folding his arms and leaning back against the cage.
“Where are you from?” she demanded.
He raised an eyebrow. “Far away,” he replied.
She scowled at him. “That’s not an answer,” she retorted with a frown.
He studied her face. His fingers itched to gently sweep a curly strand of hair back from her cheek. His body responded to the thought. This was crazy. He was sitting in an animal cage thinking that all he wanted to do was run his fingers through the soft hair of the woman who was threatening him.
That not all, his cat snickered.
Shut up, he muttered.
He leaned his head back against the bars. “My home world is called Sarafin. I could give you the specific location, but it would be easier to show you on a star chart—though, I seriously doubt your scientists are familiar with my galaxy. According to my brothers and their mates, humans are not aware that alien life truly exists,” he calmly explained.
She warily stared at him, then slowly sank back down onto the steps. Behind her, he could see the white heads of two tigers. His cat purred.
What are you so happy about? he asked.
She love cats, his cat replied.
Walkyr didn’t bother to point out that while she might love cats, she also hadn’t hesitated to hold a knife to his cat’s throat or threaten to shock him. He kept his gaze locked on her face. She was very pale, and her hands trembled.
“Are you telling me that you… that you are an alien from another planet?” she demanded.
He gave a brief nod. “Yes. The Sarafin are cat-shifters whereas the Curizans harness the energy around them, and the Valdier are dragon-shifters. Who and what we are is a gift from the Goddess,” he quietly added.
He sat forward when she swayed. He warily eyed her hand when she tightened her fingers around the device. She must have sensed his worry because she aimed the taser at the ground.
“I want to know everything,” she ordered in a low, quivering voice. “I want to know about your world, how you got here, and most importantly, why you are here.”
“If I swear on my honor that I will not harm you, will you release me? I will tell you everything that you wish to know. I believe we would be a little more… comfortable if I was not sitting in a cage,” he suggested.
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. He tried to give her one of his most sincere, reassuring smiles. After a few seconds, his smile faded to a deep sigh when her expression didn’t change. He was surprised when she suddenly rose to her feet and stepped closer to the cage.
He silently watched as she pulled a key from her pocket. She shot him a look of warning before she slid the key into the lock and twisted it. She slid the lock off, stepped back, and motioned to him.
“I swear, if you so much as breathe wrong, my cats and I will tear you to pieces,” she warned.
“Don’t breathe wrong or I’ll be torn to pieces—yes, I understand. Your threat has me shaking in my boots,” he replied, trying not to show his amusement.
She raised her eyebrow at him and gave him a sweet smile. “You should be. Make sure you shut the door behind you w
hen you enter the house,” she quipped.
He paused in mid-scoot to warily watch her. He noticed when she turned that she hadn’t yet pocketed the device in her hand. She picked up the cup she had set aside a few minutes before and calmly climbed the steps into the house without a backward glance.
He had to admit he was impressed. She had just learned aliens were real and he was one of them, and already she was nonchalantly turning her back to him. That was one hell of a poker face.
Chapter Eleven
Back in the forest:
Wyoming
The blanket of snow moved ever so slightly before a hand pushed up through it. A moment later, Ranker’s upper body broke through the layer that had covered him. He gasped in the fresh air, pulling it deep into his starving lungs.
He struggled to pull the lower half of his body out. Shivering from the cold, he finally rolled onto the packed ice and stared up at the heavy gray clouds. He was going to kill Walkyr d’Rojah and leave him to rot on this miserable planet.
Rolling onto his hands and knees, he pushed off the ground. He looked around him. The wide gully they had landed in was half-filled with snow from the avalanche. Now the mountain above only had a thin coating of snow that had gathered overnight. There would not be an imminent second avalanche.
Ranker turned back and looked toward where Nastran and the ship should be. He lowered his hand to his side, and cursed when he realized that he had lost his laser pistol. Rolling his shoulders, he focused and shape-shifted into his cat.
What we do? his cat demanded.
We locate Nastran and the ship, and find some weapons. Then, we go after d’Rojah and the human boy, he stated.
His cat lowered its head and began to sniff. He narrowed in on Nastran’s scent and began to dig. Thirty minutes later, he had uncovered Nastran’s dead body. A piece of metal from the ship protruded from the man’s chest. The avalanche must have thrown him onto it.
He continued digging. Several feet from Nastran’s body he found the dead man’s laser rifle. He scraped the ice and snow from the weapon. Checking the power, he turned and aimed it at Nastran’s body. In seconds, the dead man was nothing more than a pile of black ash against the white snow.
Turning the rifle in the direction he believed the ship was located, he set the rifle to emit a wide beam to clear the area of snow. Two hours later, he had the back section of the ship exposed. He stood and carefully appraised the damage. The snow was the least of his concerns. The ship could easily rise out of the compacted ice crystals as long as the engines were clear. They would melt the surrounding snow. He would need to complete the repairs to the ship, though, if they wanted to safely escape the planet.
He strode forward and up the platform. As he entered, he tossed the depleted rifle to the side. Nastran’s death was an inconvenience, but it would not affect their mission. He could repair the ship, but the first thing he had to do was warn Raul and Airabus about Walkyr d’Rojah’s presence.
Ranker stepped into the small confines of the bridge. He had also lost his communicator and would have to replace it. At the moment, he wasn’t sure of the other two men’s location. Flipping on the communications console, he opened the channel.
“Airabus, receive,” he growled, wiping his hand over his face when the snow in his hair melted and ran down his cheek.
Airabus’ face appeared on the vidcom. “What is it?” he growled with annoyance.
“Have you found the Heart of the Cat yet?” he asked.
“Not yet, why?” Airabus impatiently demanded.
“You need to find it soon. Walkyr d’Rojah is here. Nastran is dead, and the ship was buried under the snow,” he tersely replied into the vidcom.
The screen tilted, revealing tall trees amid a white landscape. A second later, a different face appeared. He returned Raul’s icy stare.
“Where is he?” Raul demanded.
Ranker impatiently wiped at another droplet of melted snow running down his face. “I don’t know. He was gone by the time I dug myself out from under the snow,” he replied.
“Was he alone?” Raul coldly asked.
“We only saw him. No one else,” he replied, not bothering to mention the alien child.
There was a chilly pause before Raul continued. “I want you to find his ship and destroy it. He must not have a way to get off the planet,” he ordered.
“What about Walkyr?” Ranker inquired.
“Airabus and I will take care of him. Out,” Raul responded.
A shiver ran through Ranker at the harsh reply. He stared at the console for a moment before he switched everything off. He couldn’t help thinking that the cold, harsh voice of Raul made the snow feel warm.
He had been in the chamber when Princess Mia had refused Raul’s demand to join him in ruling the Sarafin people—as well as the Curizan and the Valdier. Instead, she had used the power of the Heart of the Cat to disappear with their newborn cub. Raul’s life almost ended that night centuries ago, but his quest to harness the power of the Goddess through the gem had not.
They had barely escaped before the remaining palace guards regrouped and fought back. As they fled into the forest, an eerie, unnatural mist had descended. Since that night, they had never returned to the place they had once called home. The few who had joined them in their escape and tried to return had perished. Not even those who had once called the forest home dared to enter the malevolent woods that now seemed to be alive with an unnatural presence.
A grievously wounded Raul had ordered his followers to spread out and blend in until he called for them. The cooperation between the three royal houses of Sarafin, Curizan, and Valdier made it too dangerous to fight back just yet. Raul had gathered a small band of faithful followers and continued to covertly search for the Heart of the Cat. The only way to defeat the allied three royal houses was with the power of the Goddess.
The last few years, their search had become more and more hazardous. Raul had grown harder, colder, and crueler to those who defied or disappointed him. Many of those who had once followed Raul had drifted away, believing he was either dead or insane. Now, only a handful of his followers on Sarafin still fought and believed in what Raul had shared with them. Even Ranker had begun to question Raul’s message—until they intercepted a signal that Raul prophesized would show them where the Heart of the Cat was hidden—a unique signal that had led them to this world.
Ranker curled his fingers into a fist. “We will not be denied any longer. The d’Rojah family will be the first that we destroy—then the Ha’darra followed by the Reykill. The power of the Goddess will be ours, and the Sarafin will rule over all the worlds, including this one,” he quietly vowed.
He rose from his seat and looked around. Walkyr must have somehow been able to track them. He needed to search the ship and destroy any tracking devices. A slow, devious grin curved his lips.
“Perhaps I can use your technology against you. If I cannot find your ship, then I will find you,” he murmured to himself.
He exited the bridge and headed for the engine room. After several minutes of searching, he located the device he had purchased from a Curizan. Now all he needed was to locate one of the tracking devices that d’Rojah must have attached to the ship. If the device did what the Curizan promised, Ranker should be able to use the signal to locate the Sarafin Prince.
“And I will take your ship for myself,” he chuckled as he picked up a new laser rifle and set it on a wide beam to clear the snow around the ship.
* * *
Trescina strode through the small laundry room and past the sitting room before entering the kitchen. She listened to the soft sound of the door closing as her visitor walked in behind her.
She placed her cold mug of tea in the microwave, selected the reheat button and started it. Thirty seconds later, the chime drew her attention away from the man surveying the interior of her house. She turned to retrieve her cup while making sure to keep the tall man in her peripheral vision. She pul
led out the steaming mug and placed it on the counter.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” she blurted out.
He paused with a wary expression on his face. It wasn’t hard to interpret what he was thinking. He was worried she might drug it. As tempting as the idea might be, she didn’t currently possess any sedatives. She left that to Heather and the rescue center. She reluctantly smiled.
“That would be… nice,” he finally agreed.
She placed the taser by the sink and picked up the electric kettle. She filled the kettle with fresh water and placed it back on its base. Pushing the on button, she reached up, opened the cabinet, and pulled out a mug. She blinked when she saw that he had moved to the other side of the bar.
“What… kind of tea do you like?” she mumbled, reaching for the taser and stepping back a little.
She didn’t miss the way he stiffened—or the way he forced himself to relax. She watched as he placed both hands flat on the bar before he slid onto one of the bar seats. The click of the electric kettle sounded loud in the quiet room.
“I’ll let you choose. I’m not familiar with the plants on this world. Riley said it might be advantageous for me to eat certain types of mushrooms or a five-leaf plant called marijuana while I was here to help me chill out. I am still trying to understand how a fungus or leaf can cause my body to become cold,” he stated with a perplexed expression.
She tried to stifle a giggle which caused it to sound more like a snort. She shook her head at him and reached for the canister of peppermint green tea. Her amusement grew when he leaned forward to curiously watch what she was doing. She carefully placed the hot mug of tea on the bar before she stepped back and picked up her own cup.
“Well, you’ll have to settle for something a little less… calming,” she informed him before she studied his face. “You have spots.”
He looked at her with a startled expression before he shrugged. “That is not unusual. Most Sarafin retain the markings of their cat in this form,” he said.
