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Earth without Caro
Year of 2254, September – October
Blah blah, aliens want a chance to date human women. Izzy scanned the crowd filled with journalists and mad hatters eager to flash their boobs at said aliens. She barely listened to Caro standing on the platform, since she sounded like a pimp. The thing was, the alien man had to fall to a knee first. No amount of pimping or boobs flashed would snare him.
Izzy snorted. She would be front and center if that was all it took.
The sun was a gorgeous pale yellow, warm against her upturned face. After the massive breakfast she’d consumed, along with killing time with Ronin and Garix, she was ready for a nap.
She sighed, leaned to the right, and rested her temple on Garix’s massive, bronzed bicep.
Etterians.
Tall with dark-blue eyes and thick, black braids down to their heels, wearing military gear like they were bikers.
Gorgeous and desperate for human women, or so they claimed.
Caro had snagged one.
Izzy wanted to pout, to curse the fates. Then again, who would want to deal with the bundle of trouble she was?
She and Garix stood to the rear of the crowd, amid stranglers. Not once did she study those around her, except to catch glimpses of hooded men. That didn’t alarm her. With the press present, not all would want to expose their identities. She shivered. Besides, with the Etterians looming, who would mess with her.
“Ensa?” Garix arched a brow. “Are you unwell?”
Oh, the dear, sweet, teddy bear. Seven feet of solid muscle and all heart. He wasn’t hers either. She smothered a giggle in his bulky bicep. Had he been, with her shortness and his tallness, they would’ve made a funny picture in family photos. And Ronin was on his own mission, grumbling at her, or guarding her with a vengeance as if his life depended on it. Said man, wearing a formidable scowl, paced toward the dais then back to Garix.
Rubbing her belly, she swallowed a yawn. Last night’s disaster of a movie and club visit, with Malo brawling in front of a coffee shop and Garix complaining about ‘Earthian’ mating rituals, had been entertaining but exhausting. Still, they’d reacted to her in a dress better than any man she’d dated.
Smiling, she studied Malo and the way he gazed at Caro, as if she was his air, joy, future, and hope. That’s what Izzy wanted, not the sweet concern in Garix’s eyes because her tininess alarmed his seven-foot self or Ronin who tolerated her out of duty as an older brother would.
The crowd jeered, closed in, and blocked her view, so she shuffled to the left, rising on her tippy-toes to see Caro.
An arm snaked around her collarbone, and she frowned. “Garix, you don’t need—”
A bang pierced the air beside her, ringing her ears.
Chaos erupted. The crowd squealed and scattered, clearing a path to the dais. The pounding of feet on the solar-paneled parking lot overwhelmed Izzy’s thoughts. Caro had slumped to the ground with a red stain on her blouse. Izzy gasped, then struggled against Garix’s grip. It didn’t loosen. Instead, it tightened and tugged her back. She could barely breathe. Digging in her nails got her nowhere. She froze when Malo’s face contorted in a roar, his sorrow so potent, it silenced the panicked crowd for a second. Trying to reach her bestie, Izzy fought, grasping at Garix’s arm. She blinked. Instead of choking her, the huge Etterian leaped onto the dais to stand beside Ronin.
Ice drenched Izzy’s spine. As if she were underwater, time slowed, and she dipped her focus to a silver-gray arm. Who the hell? She rasped Garix’s name, not sure whether he’d hear her, but she had to try. Daring a glance at her attacker, she blinked at the humanoid shark, his sabretooth fangs dimpling his wide bottom lip. Oh, hell, no. She wasn’t going with that.
Slumping, she tried to make her petite-self heavier, but when the sharkman didn’t slow its backward run, she dug her heels and nails in. Neither worked to release her. A glance at the dais showed Ronin with his strange weapon drawn. Garix scanned the crowd. No doubt looking for her, the idiot. She was half-tempted to remove her nails from the sharkman’s arm and wave. Hell, might as well add “cooey” to that, like she was out on a picnic and merely wanted to catch a friend’s attention.
Seeing no help coming from anyone, humans and Etterians alike, she gritted her teeth. Typical. Want something done properly...
Twisting, she opened her mouth wide and sank her teeth into the slimy fish-like flesh of the bastard’s arm. Rotten, mercury-infested, castor oil coated her tongue.
The creature hissed, and in an instant, she was free. Not that she ran. She fell to her hands and knees and gagged like a cat unable to spit out a furball. Tears burned behind her eyes as shivers racked her body. When black boots disturbed the dust at her splayed hands, she stumbled back, planning on crawling her way to freedom.
“Ensa.”
At Garix’s deep timbre, every muscle in her body melted, along with her tear ducts. And into his arms he swept her, as if she weighed nothing more than a tub of ice cream. A gag followed, worsened by his jarring when he sprinted onto the dais to where Malo kneeled. Caro was nowhere, and the abject sorrow darkening Malo’s face meant bad news.
Izzy knew that look, had seen it in her father’s eyes. Then, it had been her fault.
“Where’s Caro?” That high-pitched voice drenched with panic couldn’t be hers? “Garix?” She wiggled in his arms, desperate to be released. What was she? A sack of potatoes?
“She has been taken, ensa.”
Izzy gaped, gagged, wiped the drool off her bottom lip with a flick of a wrist, then gagged again. “Malo will find her, right?” Nausea wrenched her gut. She shuddered, trying to keep down the bile climbing up her throat.
Garix patted her shoulder. “You did well, escaping that Yithian.”
Gag. “Sure, then why do I feel horrible?” Shiver.
“Izzy, what did you do?” Ronin narrowed his gaze on her.
She raised her chin, despite the gag-reflex spasming. “I bit him.”
“Alodon’s balls, female,” Ronin roared. “Are you insane?”
“Get her to medical.” Malo’s stoic voice sliced through her panic. He stumbled to his feet and tapped his forearm. “Afax, four to medical.”
“Port?” Gag. “Oh, hell, no. I’m not getting—” Tingles assaulted her body, added to the shivers taking turns to lambaste her, the sharp twists of nausea, and the hoo-whack of the gagging. “—zapped.”
The bright sunlight was gone, the cacophony of the dispersing crowd silenced. She stood in the middle of a gray-walled room, with trestle tables to one side, a sparring mat on the other, and Garix ushering her to a blinding-white room in the corner.
“Medic Brynr,” Garix growled, “Lady Izzy needs attention.”
An older male scurried forward with a 1920’s cellular phone. It flickered lights, and had she seen it in an antique store, she might have thought it was used to shave her privates.
“I do not see an injury.” Brynr scowled, running the shaver over her.
Two gags followed, and she clung to Garix, hoping to stop the advancing twitches.
He curled an arm around her, drawing her against his warm body. “She bit a Yithian.”
The older male stilled, widened his eyes, and played with the device.
The hoo-whack stopped mid-way, and the churning nausea faded. Score one to the shaver. She slumped, only now registering the fine layer of sweat coating her skin. “What the flaming nipples just happened?”
Poor Brynr jumped back as if she’d punched him.
“Sorry, Brynr, thank you for healing me.” She offered him the sweetest smile she could muster, then faced Garix, poking him in his chest with a pointed finger. Pain burned her knuckle since he was harder than he looked, but with the way red circled her vision, she didn’t care.
“What,” Poke. “Just.” Jab. “Happened?” She curled her finger into her palm, hoping she hadn’t broken it.
A rumble swept through the room, reminding her they weren’t alone. Many blue gazes fixed on her, but she glared at them, sidled to the right, and used Garix’s massive frame to shield herself.
“So help me, Garix. You better start spilling the beans, or I’ll...” Shit. She chewed on her lip. If only she had an Etterian handbook. A dramatic pause would follow while she scanned the ‘How to threaten an alien’ section. “Cry?” She arched a hopeful brow at him. That worked on human men, might do the trick on aliens too.
“Ensa, you know what happened. Malo saw the Yithian grab you, thus was not focused on his Dar Eth. When she was harmed with your Earthian—”
“Human,” she huffed.
He squeezed his eyes shut for a second. “—weapon, he rushed to reach her, but by then, they had ported—”
“Zapped.” She shivered, and a phantom gag itched her throat.
“—her. She is gone. Operations Commander Malo will find her. He can do nothing else with the Ethera driving him.”
“The what now?” Izzy rubbed her brow, swearing a grandmother of headaches was forming. A dull throb pulsed behind her left eye. “Spill.” Spinning, she strode to Brynr. She gestured to her eye. “Headache.”
He shook his head but was wise not to say anything. Scanning her with his shaver, the intense throbbing eased, and her eye stopped watering.
“Thank you. Garix...? I’m waiting. What’s this Ethera?” She faced him, raised her pointed finger, then thought better of it. Thankfully, a tear slipped out—the remnants of the headache. Adding an overdramatic sniffle and a trembling bottom lip had the poor man darting across to her.
And she was airborne, crushed against his massive chest while he patted her head as if she was a kitten. With her face squished against his armor, she was lucky she could breathe. Right. She shouldn’t use womanly wiles when everything she touched didn’t end well. Case in point.
“It is what sparks an Eth finding his Dar Eth.”
“Oh. Then why couldn’t you just tell me? And you can let me down.”
He dropped her, but before she could scramble or squeal, he caught her at the last minute. It happened so fast, her thick mass of hair bounced, covering her face. She harrumphed, wishing she could smack his arm for manhandling her.
“Where’s Malo and Ronin?” She studied the men watching her, pretty sure she knew Ronin’s face well enough to spot him.
“Searching for Caro.”
Right. She folded her arms across her chest. “How?” When Garix opened his mouth to speak, she halted him with a twirl of a finger. “Pack up...ship and haul ass after what? What if the sharkman—”
“Yithian.”
“—didn’t leave Earth?” She glared. “How long’s this going to take?”
“As long as it takes.”
She smacked his arm and winced. “Damn...” She bit her lip, having been about to call him a mountain. “What can I do?” Falling into pacing, she focused on the metallic floor instead of the ‘crowd.’
When Garix didn’t respond, she chanced a peek.
His bronzed brow was furrowed with his dark eyebrows sinking as if she’d asked him to explain the meaning of life. “Why would you want to help?”
She threw her hands up and muffled a squeal. “Caro is my bestie, mine to protect, to cherish, as expected of friends. What would you do if your friend—”
“Battle-bond.”
She glared again. “—was shot then zapped?”
“I would track him on his O.D.I.”
She sighed. Did he have to sound logical? “His what now?”
Garix touched his forearm and those holographic letters leaped into life. “Optical Data Implant.”
Aliens and their newfangled technology, though she had to admit to seeing similar or even exact images on billboards and digi-mags. Tech and her didn’t get along well. It was yet another way for her to mess things up.
She held up a hand, curled into a fist, then thought twice about punching him. Pulling her hair out only made it grow back curlier, so that was out. She sucked in a calming breath. “Okay, let me explain it like this. I. Need. To. Know. How. Malo’s. Going. To. Find. Caro.” Squeezing the bridge of her nose helped for a second.
“With the help of a data officer. He will scan all ship frequencies in the area. That alone will confirm whether Caro is on your homeworld or not. In addition, since a Yithian tried to take you, this implies Yithia is involved. Malo will waste no time in traveling there. If the Maker blesses this mission, he may find Caro en route.”
“Travel?” Izzy squeaked. “How...how far is this Yithia?”
“Two weeks.”
“Holy...shit,” she whispered. Space travel wasn’t for the fainthearted. “So, there’s nothing I can do but wait for news?”
“Yes.”
A familiar helplessness settled on her. The only way to deal with it was to keep herself busy. She could be alone for fourteen days.
As if on cue, Garix’s stomach gurgled. “Hungry?”
No, she wasn’t. Not in the slightest. She forced a smile. Anything in her mouth would be better than the lingering vile sharkman taste. “Pizza?”
Garix’s eyelids fluttered, and the slow sensual smile he blessed her with snatched what air remained in her lungs.
“Grizzly,” she huffed. “Then let’s head home.” She grabbed his wrists and peered around him at their audience.
“Ensa—”
He was going to argue with her about this? She had a right to go home. Or was she a prisoner? “Garix, I’m tired. Caro’s been kidnapped. You’ve just told me I’m useless. On top of it all, I bit a Yithian. I want my home and bed.”
He studied her, tapped his O.D.I., then snaked an arm around her.
Her eyes widened as it dawned on her what he was about to do. “Garix, no. Not the zapping thingy. Can’t we take a spaceship—”
The idiot chuckled. “You are a damu with your fear, Izzy. It is just porting.”
She swallowed the bile rising to choke her.
“Two to port to Lady Izzy’s housing unit.”
Tingles assaulted her again, and that phantom hoo-whack tickled her throat. Finding herself standing in her living room did little to hold back the wrenching nausea. While Garix dug in the fridge, she pulled her phone out of her pocket and placed an order for many large boxes of pizza.
“I’m off to shower,” she called. And maybe twelve mouth gargles would remove the oily fishiness clinging to her teeth.
He grunted and chewed on a stick of salami while sprawled on the couch. He looked as if he had nowhere else he needed to be. If he was going to stay, the couch wouldn’t do for a permanent bed. And with Caro gone for who knew how long, Izzy might as well set him up in her room...for now. Two weeks to Yithia and that long back? She sniffed and choked back a sob.
Sadness drooped her lips, her eyes darkened, and in the reflection in the bathroom mirror, a solitary tear streaked down a pale cheek.
Too much had changed too fast, and she didn’t know how to deal with it.
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