Stallion of Ash and Flame (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 16

  “Yeah, how dangerous is it to keep them at the house?” She whirled around. “What’s your solution...do you have a name?”

  The Hjorior tilted his lips in a momentary grin. “Lhestasus,” he answered. “I can offer a containment box similar to the one that now holds your blood gift. It will only open at your command. I will create it to be undetectable by most. Thus, if your destiny requires it, the amulets will be in your possession.”

  She pondered a few moments, then shrugged her shoulder. “I have no other good solution. Mr. Flaming Horse Man is right. Taking them back to the cave won’t work.”

  “Flaming Horse Man,” he growled near her ear. Possessively stroking over her belly, he watched Lhestasus wave his hand in a spiraling motion while he concentrated.

  “Blazing Horse Man?” she drily taunted, keeping her gaze fastened on the purple mist now forming into a ball the size of a fist.

  “I like Stallion of Flame. Especially the way you said it earlier.”

  “You do, do you?”

  Using both hands now, the Hjorior seemed to sculpt the air instead of the gleaming deep purple box that took shape between the precise sweeps of his palms.

  “I do, my mare.” He subtly lipped the rim of her ear.

  She let her head rest on his shoulder, her gaze trained on the forming box. “You can’t go home,” she sadly whispered.

  “It’s not a lost cause, Seneca. I’ll explain why later.”

  “Is it even safe to go back to the house? Not that I could ever leave my horses and dogs.”

  “I’ll make it safe.”

  “Even with all your alien stallion prowess, how?”

  “You haven’t seen all my prowess talents yet.”

  “I imagine not,” she drily cut. Still, he heard the desire in her tone, and the uncertainty about her future. It was all there in her voice, her deepest feelings. He hugged her closer.

  Gently capturing the newly formed lock-box he’d designed for Seneca, the Hjorior closed his eyes and sent his thoughts into the living energy. He had shaped it to resemble a modernistic cosmetics case. Once he’d finished, he reverently held the box toward her, opening the lid.

  “What a beautiful shade of purple,” she complimented. Leaving Trail’s arms, she dug into her pockets, pulling out the two amulets. After gazing down at them for a long moment, she kissed each one. “They did help save me earlier,” she explained. Stepping forward, she placed them inside. The amulets seemed to settle themselves with good grace.

  “Close the lid,” Lhestasus encouraged. “Once you do, it will only be your touch which will open it again.”

  She somberly nodded, then shut the box, a delicate flowing of her hand. Lhestasus released the lock-box. Floating, it became splendidly radiant for an instant, then entered her grip.

  “Until we meet once again.” The Hjorior grandly waved his arm.

  Trail craned his neck, making certain. Yep, they were inside the pickup and parked at her house. He whipped around to her. Seneca’s face and body remained frozen from the time-warp jump, the purple lock-box on her lap.

  Emerging, she shook her head a little. “Where are we?” Reflexively, she picked up the gleaming case, hugging it against her chest.

  “Home, sweet, home.”

  She swung her face back and forth from the front windshield to the side window. “Dang, you’re right. This is the fastest trip home I’ve ever made. That’s for certain.”

  “Are you okay?” Trail gently grasped her irresistible thigh.

  “You tell me. Since we’re connected mates.” Her tone carved him up, but good. He grinned inside.

  “Do I have your permission?” he countered. “Seneca, the connection between us is mostly for protection.”

  “Mostly,” she voice-clawed. “Never mind now. Have you remote-viewed the horses, the whole place yet?”

  “Promise me you’ll stay put, and I’ll do a mind reconnoiter.”

  She gave him a quick glance, her eyes fiery turquoise. “Go.”

  He hesitated, tenderly stroking her knee.

  “I promise, bossy stud. Go.”

  He did, releasing her knee and soaring his awareness toward the stable. Chief stood quietly, but alertly inside his stall. He whinnied a greeting, and Trail sent him an overview of what had occurred as he could understand it. Expanding his psi-senses, he checked on all the horses, then zoomed over the land. Another Alien Buster’s van was parked near the perimeter, hidden by a rise of ground. He swept though their electronics, discovering they’d become suspicious of him and remained on the lookout for the Fire Starters.

  Seconds later, he sent a frequency bolt that caused a screeching noise. The four people inside covered their ears while their computers groaned and went haywire. Shooting upwards, he tested the vibrational winds and sensed no direct danger to them. There was only the residue of the sheriff and the black-ops team. Flashing toward the house, he hovered over Luke and Spook first. They were frightened, yet sensed her presence, and eagerly waiting for her to appear.

  Touring inside the house, he found several advanced devices designed to record a person’s every move and word. Sheriff Colgan had returned in their absence. Trail sensed his foul vibration everywhere. Disabling the covert tech, he watched all of it spark into useless particles. The last place he entered was her bedroom, knowing who waited.

  V’Trailuc, the commander greeted. His hologram projection rose up from reclining on her bed. The careless arrogant smile he presented only made him appear sinister.

  Get out. You defile her room. Trail summoned his force to whirlwind status.

  A warning. I am not through with you or your mate. The commander’s malevolent grin mocked him.

  A warning, Trail imitated. We were sent by the ancient ones to defeat you and your greed-despicable money masters.

  Shock briefly flickered in the commander’s opaque black eyes. Baring his pointed row of teeth, he glared his hatred. Do not think I am so easily defeated. You are not invincible, V’Trailuc. I will discover your secrets and know the most brutal retaliation.

  Trail laughed, guffawing as if he held his stomach. Once his grand amusement ended, he summoned his tornadic force again. You are a fool to believe gold is superior to the paradise of Earth. What would your race do without this planet as a port for your ships?

  The commander’s face hardened with menace. He sneered slowly. A fool, am I? What man turns his back on his own world to mate with an Earth female?

  Trail didn’t bother answering his enemy’s utter ignorance, but stared back with his own savage power.

  After returning the stare for moments, the commander’s holo image vanished. Trail instantly spun throughout the room erasing every trace of his foul presence. Continuing into the front room, he wiped out Sheriff Pork Belly’s molecules.

  Seneca stared out the front windshield, her impatience a force of nature. She’d put the amulet box on the dashboard. Her legs were drawn up, her arms wrapped around them. “You’re back.”

  “Yes.” Trail swiveled in his seat to face her.

  “I felt your return. We are connected.” Her voice had been soft with thought and uncertainty. “What did you find?”

  Trail debated with himself about what to tell her, and how.

  “There are tire tracks that don’t belong,” she added when he didn’t answer immediately. “I can see them from here.” She nodded toward the passenger window.

  “The sheriff. He bugged the house. I destroyed them all.”

  “He couldn’t have found any of the camcorder evidence. None is in the house. But God knows what the bastard stole or planted on me. Good thing Luke and Spook were in their area and not loose.” She heaved a long sigh. “At least I know they’re okay. They started barking on and off,” she explained. “They know I’m here.”

  “The sheriff only stayed long enough to place the spy devices,” Trail reassured. “There was an Alien Busters van watching the place. I screwed up their computers.”

 
“What else?” she asked, her expression stony.

  Trail glanced away. God, he didn’t want to scare her farther.

  “I always know when Rory is holding out on me. Besides, you’re the one who connected us. By the way, alien stud, just how does that work?”

  “Want a demonstration of how that works?” He suggestively eyed her, and grinned.

  “Oh for—” She scowled formidably. “No, I want a clinical explanation. Only, after you tell me the rest of the story.” Her tone brooked no nonsense.

  “The Fire Starter commander sent his holo image. ”

  “Commander?” she interrupted.

  “The one who held you and made the demands.”

  “Yeah, of course.” Her pupils dilated in fear as she remembered. “I assume we’re safe.”

  “We’re safe. The horses are safe.”

  “What did the giant tapeworm want, besides the amulets and the mica device?”

  Trail let a chuckle escape.

  Her face lit up with her brief smile. “Yeah, it is kinda funny.”

  “The usual bad guy threats. I chased him out. If it comes to it, I’ll eliminate him.”

  “You’ve done that before, haven’t you?”

  Trail didn’t speak until the look in her eyes compelled him. “Yes, Seneca, I have when necessary.”

  She gave one nod and set her chin on top of her knees. “To protect your portal?”

  “To protect myself or someone else from Earth’s shadow government. So far.”

  “Yeah, the shadow government.”

  Trail never wanted to hear his name on her lips the way she’d just spoken, with utter loathing.

  “I was thinking while you were remote viewing,” she continued. “Who could help it, right?” She shifted her gaze to him, laying her cheek on top of her knees. “About everything I’ve now seen with my own eyes, and about what I just experienced. I know it to be true. Yet, if I tell most people...hey, take her to the looney bin, throw away the key.”

  Trail nodded, feeling her pain and mental struggle.

  “All those things the government never admits to and never tells you about. All those things that people are constantly ridiculed over...like seeing a flying saucer or being abducted. I’m angry. I hate all the lies. More than that, I’m just damned tired of all the lies. Lie stacked upon lie, for how long now?”

  Trail could have told her for ‘how long’, but that wouldn’t have eased her any. It certainly didn’t ease him.

  “Practically everything I thought was true about life, over time it’s been proven to be untrue. It’s been one rug after another pulled out from underneath me.”

  He watched the glisten of her tiny teardrops touch her cheek. She sniffled. “What? Does the tower of lies stack all the way to the moon?”

  “It might,” he quietly offered.

  She gave him a teary-eyed glance. “Do you know what I’ve come to believe?” She sniffled again and looked as fragile as a young girl. “There will never be disclosure.”

  “Disclosure?”

  “What some UFO groups want from the government, the truth, all the secret files released. It will never happen. No matter how many people demand it, and write to their Congress people, or flood them with faxes and e-mails. There’s only a couple of ways it will ever happen. One, if it’s a pre-emptive strike. A group of extraterrestrials themselves demand it with the threat that they’ll make themselves known if it isn’t revealed. Two, if they need a way to stay in control of the population because nothing else is working. Then, they’ll make nasty noises about an Independence Day style attack.”

  “Independence Day style attack.” Trail rubbed his chin, searching his memory. “You mean the movie, don’t you?”

  “Yes, Mr. Stud Alien. You’re not keeping up on the American culture around the arrival of extraterrestrials. Isn’t that a prerequisite for your mission?”

  He half-grinned at her tongue-in-cheek, yet serious tone. “I study other aspects of the American culture to stay in my persona as a drifter and tracker.”

  “Makes sense.” She uncurled her body and performed a quick stretch.

  Trail didn’t bother halting his appreciation of her athletic voluptuous body, his to enjoy forever. God, he wanted his hands on her, his cock plunging in and out of her. Soon. “Ready to go inside?”

  She hesitated, shaking her coppery waves of hair back, an enticement that had him groaning silently. She’d simply moved to limber her body, to shake off some of what she’d been through. “Yeah, I should, just to pet Luke and Spook. I’m making some cinnamon hot chocolate. Want some? Or you can make whatever you want. Then you can tell me the clinical reason why we are connected.” She flicked him a sideways glance, took hold of the purple box, and reached for the door handle.

  “I’ll brew up some coffee and explain.”

  He watched her shove out the door and step out of the pickup before he opened his door and strode to meet her. Aching to touch her, he dived his hands in his pockets and moved beside her.

  “God, questions,” she murmured wearily. “I have dozens of questions for you. Maybe I’ll put some of your coffee in my chocolate. I’m beginning to feel drained.”

  “Adrenaline drop, my mare.”

  “My mare,” she echoed. “Omygawd, how do I even cope?”

  Even though she tromped up the stairs and grabbed for the door, her body still danced. Trail beat her to it, opening the door for her. “You need a tablespoon of honey.”

  “Probably. I’ll take some when I make the hot chocolate.” She spoke above the sharp rapid woofs of Luke and Spook. “I’m coming, babies.” After setting the amulet lock-box on the highest shelf of a built-in bookcase, she rapidly strode toward them.

  Trail followed, his gaze taking advantage of her apple-luscious ass in motion. His cock grew two sizes too big, as he liked to think about it because the Earth phrase amused him. Remaining in the kitchen, he smiled wide as the sky above while he put the coffee on to brew and got her ingredients out. Finished, he leaned against the counter, imagining what he wanted to do to her butt, and the different ways he would mount her.

  “Three sizes too big,” he muttered, then forced himself to perform a quick psi-scan for enemies. Later he would establish permanent frequency pockets that would act like warning alarms.

  Trail realized he should be figuring out how to explain to a human woman who he was as an equine shifter. Even though his Seneca was open-minded, it would be difficult for her to accept everything about him. One stride at time, he told himself. Somehow, he would nuzzle her into accepting him as her mate, no matter how long it took.

  “Luke and Spook?” he asked as she entered the kitchen.

  “I don’t think they were too happy with the sheriff’s illegal entry. They kept growling and barking a conversation while we loved on each other.” She moved to the stove. “Thanks, for getting everything out.” Picking up the jar of honey, she dipped a large spoon in and licked it clean.

  Trail surreptitiously shook his head to clear away the image of her tongue slowly licking the spoon. Private enjoyment of a woman was often superior to obvious enjoyment, especially when the mare was in no mood.

  Habit taking over, she put her small pan on the burner and turned it up. After adding portions of honey, cocoa powder, and cinnamon, she stirred. “I tried to reassure them, but Luke and Spook are still on what I call high alert.”

  “We’re still okay.” He watched her gradually swirl in the milk, then a little cream.

  “Good. I hope no other bad guys storms the castle ranch gates.” She leaned one elbow on the counter. “Geez, I feel tired. You may get a reprieve from some of my questions.”

  Turning, he poured the freshly brewed coffee into his mug, the dark rich odor reviving him before he took the first sip.

  “Go sit down,” she encouraged. “It won’t be long.”

  Hauling out the chair that gave him the best view of her, Trail lowered himself, then lounged back. He devoured her
with his gaze until she pivoted toward him. Mug in hand, she swayed as she moved to the table, her hips deliciously ripe and ready for his taking. He also noticed how her shoulders slumped with weariness.

  “Talk about a real stud.” Her croon was half sultry appreciation and half tongue-in-cheek. She ran her gaze over his body before setting her mug down, then sat across from him.

  He leaned forward. “The way your copper-fire hair frames your face is beautiful, Seneca.”

  She took a moment and lifted her mug. “If you didn’t sound so sincere, I would be tempted to punch you in the mouth.”

  “Coffee?” He offered a spoonful.

  She nodded, holding out her mug. “How do we keep all the X-files barbarians from the gates?”

  “I’ll use my super amazing powers to create an invisible frequency warning system.”

  She raised both brows at his levity. “Does it work on pork-butt sheriffs?”

  “No. A trip to Radio Shack will give us what we need to deter our Boss Hogg.”

  “Okay, you know the Dukes of Hazard.”

  “How do you think I learned how to drive?” He gave her a cocky grin.

  She rolled her eyes, then embraced her mug. Sipping for awhile, she let her eyelids lower as she savored. Relief softened her features. “Things must taste better after surviving—” She speared him with her gaze, “what we survived.”

  “Always.” He’d almost said my mare. That wouldn’t earn him any favor right now.

  After taking a few more long sips, she set her mug down and leaned on her elbows, her posture expectant. “Talk.”

  Trail straightened up, facing her fully. Most stallions would have felt their balls shrink to the size of walnuts, their pride withered inside, before the intensity of her gaze. They would have put on a stomping show of being in control and looked for a method to make her submit. Or they would have taken their bruised balls and run away faster than the wind.

  “The men of my race, called the V’Trailuc, have the ability to create substances during sex with the woman of their choice, which causes a mental and psychic connection. The substances can only be generated when the man desires the woman for his mate.”

  “As in a permanent mate?” Her jaw remained in a position of firm resolve while the expression in her eyes changed to shock.