“Sure. This bed is warm.” What was he worried about? “And I just woke up.”
He peered down at her. “How are you feeling?”
She leaned up and captured his lips with hers, drawing him down for a deep kiss. “Fine.”
He drew back, eyes gleaming with a now familiar hunger. Still, a twinge of worry remained. “I am glad to hear it.”
He looked to her monitors, but Ash put her fingers to his cheek and turned his face to hers. “Have you made any progress?”
“Yes.” He backed off, arms crossed. “I have narrowed the possible species of the creature to four. There is no good news there, as all four are ravenous and brutal and require different methods to kill them.” He tilted his head. “This creature devours some of its victims immediately, but bites others, resulting in a slow breakdown of the flesh. It is ideal for the creature to return to later and eat already partially digested. So if it is any consolation, I believe your survival was not accidental. You were intentionally left alive, for a meal to be consumed at a later time. We cannot be too careful.”
“That sounds horrible,” she said, swallowing thickly.
“The compounds in the saliva are all slow-working toxins.” A shadow of worry crossed his features. “I hope we were able to clear all of it from your system.”
“I’ve been walking around here for weeks,” she said, sitting up and stretching. “I think I would have gotten sick by now, don’t you?”
He stroked his chin and strode to his workstation, checking the progress of the tests he was running. “I do not know.”
She followed, wandering over to the complex twist of tubes and humming compartments. Digital readouts offered the statistics of the contents of each. “All these are the tests?”
“Yes. There are many, many species in this quadrant, and we are not the only aliens making trips to your planet.” He gave her a rueful shrug, then turned back to his lab.
“Are you serious?” A chill ran over her skin.
“Unfortunately, yes. Although we have made it clear that Earth is not a free-for-all, as you would call it, we cannot prohibit others from scouting it unless we claim it as ours. That, I think, would not be a welcome status for your people. Whatever is on the surface of Earth is a mistake and we will rectify it.” He unhooked a tube from a port and slid a clear box from a slot. The interior was a vibrant orange. Despite being sealed, the smell of sulfur assaulted Ash’s senses.
She covered her nose and jerked away. “God, that stinks. What is it?”
“It is…” Zade’s expression sharpened. “Is something wrong?”
Ash was staring into nothingness as memories surfaced. “That smell…”
He frowned. “It is not pleasant.”
Her head spun, and she was back there, in the Colorado lodge with those four women. There was wine and a fireplace and laughter. Then, it all turned to fear and blood. She remembered the large creature busting through the glass, all sharp claws and flat black eyes and that smell…
“The creature that attacked me smelled like that,” she said, pointing at the container. “Sulfur.”
Zade’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure?”
She nodded, swallowing hard. “Positive.”
He braced his arms on either side of her, staring directly into her face. “Are you recalling what happened the night you were attacked?”
Ash pulled in a lungful of air and closed her eyes. “I—I think so. Oh God, it was horrible.”
Hands closed around her shoulders, firm and wide. “Tell me. Anything could be helpful to the tracker currently on Earth trying to find this creature.”
She felt a sob welling in her throat. Not remembering had been so much less awful. Knowing her retreat companions had been killed was easier to accept than hearing their frantic screams in her mind. Nevertheless, she had the opportunity to help prevent it from taking more lives. She took a deep breath and told Zade what the creature looked like, smelled like, sounded like. The way it moved and its eerie speed. How easily it bit her, then threw her. How very, very alien it was. As she spoke, Zade’s face darkened.
She ran out of words, and energy, and he wrapped her in his strong arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Amazing, how safe she felt there—comforted, supported, cherished. Ash had been certain she’d never feel that way again. She settled into his warmth. Aside from being an alien, Zade was the opposite of Shaun in so many ways. Calm, measured, somewhat ruthless, Zade made his way in his world by conquering each challenge that came to him. Shaun had flitted from thing to thing, always in and out of master’s degree programs. Always ready to jump at the next idea that came to him. And she loved him, but she could never do this: lean into him and let herself be held.
“Thank you,” she breathed into Zade’s chest.
Shealmost felt his frown. “I am the one who should be doing the thanking.”
“No, you knew that I needed this,” she said, snuggling into him. “Just…this.”
