Stallion of Ash and Flame (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 11

  Her scent enveloped him as he slid beneath them. He reveled, wanting to fully snuffle her odors inside his nostrils. But that wasn’t a sight she’d understand, yet. Instead, he reviewed what she’d confessed to him and created backup plans in case his original plan to control the Sheriff went wrong.

  On Earth, it was always risky business. In general, no cohesion of spirituality, where the welfare of everyone mattered, existed. And there were any number of different players—alien races from outer space and from other dimensions, ancient races who kept watch, some of them living inside Inner Earth, along with races who had made the immense caverns a permanent home.

  It was a chaos of vibration, a crossroads of shadow and light, from the benign to the bizarre, to use the words of George Knapp, one of his favorite Earth investigative journalists.

  The apt words were part of the opening description for the paranormal radio show Mr. Knapp hosted on Sunday evenings.

  Pondering on his strategy to handle his Seneca, Trail arched his eyebrows. Sliding his hands beneath his head, he leaned back on her pillows. The savage feeling that all blazing hell was about to break loose seized his gut. He would make certain she got as much rest as possible.

  Entering the bedroom, she threw a speculative glance at him. “Habit,” she explained. She plucked the hem of the old large t-shirt before padding to the bed.

  He opened his arm to her as she came to him and gathered her close.

  Snuggling against him, she murmured, “I’m not used to sleeping with anyone. I could do some damage.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got good reflexes.” He’d spoken playfully to lessen her anxiousness.

  “Well, I warned you. Do that alien voodoo you do so well,” she quoted the song lyrics, then yawned.

  He smiled and gently brushed her hair back. At the same time, he slightly altered her brain waves.

  “I feel that,” she whispered. “Like a tiny breeze.” Her voice faded on the last two words, and she entered the edges of dreamland.

  A few moments later, he allowed himself to slip into a light doze, yet maintained his psi sentinel watch. He could have joined his mind with hers, but that would come later, once she accepted him. Once she came to care for him.

  Dawn yielded the brightening sky to the sun’s full arrival. Trail hovered his awareness through the stable, checking on the welfare of the resting horses. Once he emerged, he listened to the chirping birds. Their songs greeted the day, and they broadcast the latest news to those in their flock. When she thrashed suddenly, he instantly awakened, placing his palm on top of her head.

  “Seneca,” he called to her.

  “White powder of gold,” she groggily murmured. She rolled back and forth, then rested the side of her head on his thigh. “White powder of gold,” she repeated, blinking herself awake.

  “Monotomic gold?” he asked quietly, his gut clenching.

  She nodded against his thigh. “Yes. I had a dream. Maybe a vision.” She paused, as if trying to recall everything. “The jackal was there. The one in the cave who led me to the amulets.”

  “Start from the beginning.”

  “I’m trying.” She sighed, and he felt her body go lax. “First, I saw the Earth. You know, like one of those pictures taken from the space station. Only all these UFO-like crafts zipped here and there, becoming specks of light in the distance. I turned, seeing the sun. A huge glaring ball of light with spikes of light around the disc. It was sort of yellowish. I have no idea what the sun actually looks like if you are in outer space. Anyway, behind the sun, it looked like a curtain parted and there was a giant seam of daylight that quickly turned into a rainbow, but different. These colored rays streamed toward the Earth, surrounding it. Some of the rainbow particles penetrated the atmosphere. Others orbited, gradually seeping down into the atmosphere.” She paused, moving her head to glance up at him.

  “Go on.” He twirled a strand of her hair around one finger. “A rainbow-saturated Earth.”

  “As the colored particles neared the Earth they became golden and sank into the ground. Like dreams do, suddenly I stood on the Earth, watching radiant rays of gold hit the ground. There wasn’t anything recognizable around me at first. Then I saw a cliff in the distance. And then I stood inside a cavern. People who sort of looked like ancient Egyptians, the way they dressed and they were smallish in size, also darker-skinned. Anyway, they painted pictures and also wrote symbols on the wall of this manmade cavern. Large pots of gold coins were there, alongside other tall jars.”

  “Did the people see you?”

  “I don’t think so. But the jackal did. He trotted across the floor to me, gave me a knowing wink, and spun around. Of course, I followed until he sat down in front of a carved lapis lazuli box. I think it was about the size of a regular jewelry box.” She drew in a long breath. “Okay. The jackal looked back at me and said, Lift the lid. His lips moved, I swear. I did and inside was a large pile of white powder. Cocaine? I asked. Actually, I’ve never seen it for real. But they did have cocaine back in ancient Egypt.”

  “White powder of gold.” Trail absently stroked over her sleep-warm little arm.

  “Yes, the jackal also said white powder of platinum. He told me to remember white powder of gold, and kept saying it to me.” Moving abruptly, she sat up, leaning into the circle of his arms. “How do you know about Monotomic gold, or is that a stupid question? I only know because I’ve heard it talked about on nighttime radio, then looked it up on the Internet.”

  “They, the bad guy aliens, are planning to rape Mother Earth of gold. Seneca, the Anunnaki used gold in all its forms. For the artistic pleasure of jewelry to increasing their spiritual-psychic abilities.”

  “I read somewhere they used it to save their atmosphere, to restore it. True?”

  “True for one of their worlds. Actually an asteroid they used like a space ship. They also used the monotomic form of elements, especially gold, to travel long distances. It’s a super warp accelerator.”

  “I thought maybe they used the anti-gravity properties of montomic elements.”

  “It really isn’t anti-gravity. It looks like that. It’s a bridge between dimensions, one of them less dense, so any material becomes less dense. Stone becomes light as a feather.”

  “Oh, fascinating. That makes sense, in an odd way.” She turned in his arms to gaze at him. “You said, ‘rape Mother Earth.’ They, the Fystites?”

  “The Fystites will be part of it. The amount they’re planning to mine is not allowed by the Intergalactic Federation. Nor are the methods they’re planning to use. They’ll use the amulets to mine at deep levels where there’s a natural concentration of monotomic gold because of the volcanic activity.”

  “That’s not allowed?”

  “No, because if too much is taken it disrupts the electrical forces of the planet.”

  “Why Earth? Aren’t there uninhabited worlds they could mine?”

  “Gold doesn’t live as a mineral frequency where there isn’t abundant life. Your dream-vision told me something my people didn’t know about the first age of Earth, or knowledge we’ve lost.”

  “What?” she demanded when he didn’t immediately continue.

  “Seneca, during the first age of Earth, the planet was intentionally seeded by a light-realm to be what’s called a golden planet. That means the precursor elements were put in place. The golden rays you saw became the mineral gold in the presence of life, especially humanoid life.”

  “Humans and dragons,” she muttered. “I remember a fantasy novel I read where dragons loved gold because it sang to them.”

  “Dragons hear the harmony of gold. They’re like bloodhounds on a scent.”

  She stared at him, attempting to decide whether or not to believe him, by the look in her eye.

  “There aren’t that many dragons left on Earth, right now. A lot of species are inter-dimensional. Current Earth isn’t to their liking.”

  “Not enough innocent maidens to devour?” Her ton
e was a blend of dry sarcasm and soft wonder.

  “It’s a long complex story. And those were the bad bloodthirsty dragons.”

  “Jack the Ripper dragons,” she muttered. “So, get the amulets back, save the electrical balance of Mother Earth.”

  “That’s our mission. You were given the amulets to expose and stop an evil. Whoever is hiring the Fystites, must have a way of shielding their mining operation from the Intergalactic Federation.”

  “I read that burning the ground in a certain way, depending on what it’s composed of, can create montomic elements.”

  “Damn. The fires. They’re creating enough to sustain the dimensional speed of their ships and probably the type of shielding they’re using to cover up their crimes.”

  Chapter Eight

  Sheriff Pork Belly

  “Oh great, I’m living a sci-fi novel slash Relic Hunter TV episode.”

  He hugged her shoulders. “You started the adventure by finding those private mint coins,” he lightly bantered.

  “God.” She stretched. “Things never end. It’s already getting late. The horses still need to be taken care of. And I need to check on Luke and Spook.” She sighed, her body deflating as she lowered her arms. “I hope they’re okay.”

  “They are. I astrally checked them a little while ago.”

  “Thanks.” She gave him a soft smile that quickly vanished. “I can hardly wait until Sheriff Pork Belly shows up,” she sarcastically sang. Giving him a quick scowl, she athletically moved off the bed. “The shower is yours once I’m done. Or go use Rory’s. I’ll meet you in the kitchen, if that works.”

  “Works,” he agreed. His beautiful Mate rapidly grabbed up some clothes, heading into her bathroom. He would have kissed her silly before letting her get out of bed, but she was right. It was getting late.

  Sheriff Colgan’s impatience buzzed through Trail’s senses. Pork Belly hadn’t made his move yet, wanting to make his visit appear leisurely with only routine questions, ma’am.

  Throwing back the covers, he strode for Rory’s bathroom, a plan rapidly forming in his mind. Showering and dressing, he moved out onto the deck. He jumped over the railing, then jogged toward the stable. With Chief’s direction, he performed most of her morning routine, making certain everyone was placed in the correct pastures and corrals and had a supply of fresh water. Except for Ignition, her stallion, who eyed him like a rival.

  “Chief, buddy,” he crooned. Opening the stall door, he gave the wise elder a hearty slap on the neck. “You want to help me out?”

  Chief nodded once and blinked. I smell trouble, Stallion Trail.

  “Trouble is waiting near the gate at the end of the drive. Do you know who Sheriff Colgan is?”

  The bad-snorting bull man. He stinks like sour hay. Is he here to harm your human mare?

  “He is. Has he been here before?”

  Two times since I am here. Only Rory was here.

  “Did they fight?”

  With words. Rory told him ‘get lost, stay lost’. How do I help?

  “Graze down by the gate. Tell me when you see him arriving.”

  Chief nodded, pressed his muzzle against Trail’s chest, then pivoted and walked out of the stable toward the drive. Trail followed, striding up the incline to the house.

  She met him at the front door, her arms crossed. “Kitchen?” Her eyes blasted him like a sun-blazing sky.

  “All done down at the stable. Except for Ignition.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “Why don’t you take care of him and check over things? I’ll brew up some coffee and make a little breakfast.”

  “There’s toast. And the milk’s out.” She stepped outside and let the screen door slam. “I put Luke and Spook out in their yard. I don’t want them anywhere near Sheriff Pork Belly. They’ll attack him if he threatens me, even though they’re still weak. Not to mention I don’t want them shot, or the Animal Control crooks out here.”

  “Crooks?”

  “Yeah, they make it their business to legally steal dogs or horses they can sell for a big price. A group of us have had some success against them, getting people’s animals back before they could adopt them to new homes. So sad for the good people who want to really help animals. Unfortunately, it’s degenerated into a racquet to make money, mostly, around here.”

  She moved to pass him. He didn’t make it easy, taking a step toward her. Her breasts brushed his lower chest, and she halted, her breath rushing inward. “Seneca.” God, her mouth was so lush, and his now. Resisting, he rumbled, “I sent Chief down to the end the drive.”

  “Sent?” she interrupted. Gradually her mouth neared his.

  “He’s helping me watch out for bad guy Pork Belly.”

  She started to answer. He crushed her mouth briefly with a kiss that made his cock lunge against his jeans. “Hurry back,” he growled.

  Her eyes hazy with passion, her expression slightly dazed, she nodded and pivoted away from him. Stepping inside, he watched her move down the steps. Her stride picked up speed as she neared the stable. Knowing he would instantly feel her distress, or if she was in danger, he headed for the kitchen.

  After observing Luke and Spook for a few moments, he plugged in the coffeemaker. He figured a good strong cup would serve him this day. Finding a neglected can of oatmeal deep in her fridge, he quickly fixed up a mash, adding molasses, honey, and organic applesauce. While he waited for the mixture to warm up, he ate the toast she’d prepared and poured out a glass of milk, then drained it.

  At least she’d downed her supplements, even if she hadn’t eaten enough. The bottles still sat out on the counter. Deciding some scrambled eggs wouldn’t hurt, he checked the fridge and pulled out a carton, along with the butter. He found a small skillet in her dishwasher and got busy.

  With the eggs scrambled, he ate his mash, then poured out a cup of coffee and listened for her return. He also listened for any disturbance in the field of frequencies around her property that would tell him if anyone besides Sheriff Colgan entered. He’d noticed she hadn’t taken any of her guns with her and probably felt exposed, even nervous about being in the stable since she’d been shot at yesterday.

  Relief smacked him in a good way as he heard her footsteps, then her entry inside the house. Knowing she was a mare who prized her freedom to run, he hadn’t accompanied her, not wanting her to feel smothered by his presence.

  “You weren’t kidding about the oatmeal.” She greeted from the archway and walked toward him. “Do they grow oats on your world?”

  He nodded, smiling like a lovesick idiot at her.

  “Oops,” she mouthed. “Anyone listening?”

  “Nope, darlin’. Still hungry?” He indicated the scrambled eggs with a nod.

  “Since you cooked them.” She spun around, taking out a couple of small plates from the dishwasher. He stared at her gorgeous denim-covered ass. “You know, Ignition insisted on snuffling all over me, as if I’d petted another stallion, before he’d leave and go out to his place.”

  “He considers me a rival for your affections.”

  “Yeah, well, he might be right.” She set the plates on the counter, scooping out the eggs.

  “Might be?” he darkly murmured close to her ear. Surreptitiously, he inhaled the fragrances of her neck.

  “Never mind, stud. I shouldn’t have said anything. This is no time to sort stuff out.” She handed him a plate. “Applesauce?” She raised her brows, then whirled around, heading for the table.

  “I put it in the oatmeal.”

  “No wonder Ignition acted jealous. You must smell like a horse to him.”

  She’d said it lightly, jokingly. Trail couldn’t help wondering what her reaction would be when she found out he could shift into a stallion. Of course, her deepest self knew the truth.

  He sat across from her, watching as she tasted a fork full of the scrambled eggs. “Not bad,” she complimented. “Especially if I remember this is the Sheriff’s brain after you get done with it. Good Lord, I’
m a bundle of nerves.”

  He snorted a small chuckle. “Believe it or not, I didn’t remember I’d said that. You wore me out, honey. I was hungry.”

  She eyed him a moment. “I’m not certain I did...actually. That must be an extra potent oat crop you grow in your world.”

  “Around three hundred varieties,” he admitted.

  She shook her fiery copper hair back. Even though she’d used barrettes to pin it back, her long tresses draped over her shoulders. “Good job taking care of the horses. Thanks.”

  After polishing off his eggs and taking a long swallow of his coffee, he offered, “I’ll prove my worth, yet.”

  Finished, she shoved her plate away. “Kind of hard to make the leap. First, I’m thinking of you as a hired hand. Now—” She didn’t continue. “Should be a quiet day as far as anyone showing up to ride. I left a note on the announcement board saying I was out running errands for the day. Course, with my luck someone will show up when bad-guy butt is here.”

  Standing, she picked up their plates. “I’ll let Luke and Spook do a preliminary cleaning on all the dishes. Then I should move the pickup, so it looks like I’m gone.”

  “Want me to move it behind Rory’s workshop?” He kept his tone neutral and low.

  She blew out a sigh, her shoulders dropping with the weight of her life, with the ferocity of their circumstances. “Yeah, cowboy, I’ll get the keys.”

  “The ones hanging by the door?”

  She nodded.

  “I got it,” he assured, rising.

  “What’s Pork Belly waiting for?” she tersely snapped.

  “He wants to catch you off guard, make it look like just a routine round of questions.”

  “The good ole’ boy, then shoot you in the back approach.” She whirled around, headed for Luke and Spook.

  “That’s the one, honey,” he murmured to himself, striding for the front door.

  Grabbing her keys off the hook, he psi-felt for the correct key, matching the frequency of her truck with the ignition key. He walked outside as if doing a hired-hand job for her and sensed the firestorm of events about to occur. It was as if he could smell it on the warming winds gently sweeping over him.