Authors: Anna Alexander
“Forty-five years,” he said with pride. “We’re the largest
gravel provider in the state.”
“I see you’re tunneling as well as digging. Isn’t that
unusual for a copper mine?”
The light in his eyes dimmed as his smile turned from
curious to shrewd. “Perhaps. But we aren’t just mining copper.”
“Really? Did you strike gold too?”
“Better than gold. Something really special.” He stepped
behind his desk and pulled open a drawer, withdrawing a spool of fine silver
chain. “Do you know what this is?”
She leaned forward in her seat. “Not copper?”
He laughed and handed her the spool to examine. “This is
molybdenite. This little mineral is used in all sorts of products, but mostly
to strengthen other minerals. But science has discovered how to harness its
strength all on its own. This little chain can hold fifteen tons. And if you
mix it with carbon, it will burn longer and cleaner than any fuel in existence.
Doing more with less material makes it a lot more valuable.”
The chain was light in her hand and delicate enough to wear
around the neck. She watched the light sparkle off the links as the end swung free
and murmured, “So this is what you’re mining for under the park.”
He stared at her in surprise for a second before he leaned
back in his chair with a chuckle. “No. That would be illegal.”
She set the spool on the desk. “I would like to look in your
mine, Mr. Neimi.”
“Would you now? What for?”
“I want to look at these.” She pulled a square piece of
metal from her pocket.
“I don’t know what that is.”
“Sure you do. This is a plate that’s screwed into the rock
to keep the ceiling from crashing down. They’re supposed to be spaced every few
feet to maintain the integrity of the tunnel. But in the one running under the
park they were spaced too wide apart. I have a feeling your tunnels may have
the same shoddy workmanship.”
“You’re a mining expert too?”
“No. But I have a friend who is.”
He placed his hands behind his head with another laugh.
“Sorry. Can’t allow untrained civilians in the mine. Against OSHA rules. I’m
sure you understand.”
“Of course.” She got to her feet with a small sigh. “I’ll
just call my friend and come back another day.”
“Sheriff Briggs, did you know that I was great friends with
your predecessor?”
Disquiet rolled from her stomach and lodged in her sternum
again. “Is that so?”
“Yessiree. We were good friends. You could say we were
partners. We worked together, helping each other make Cedar a productive,
thriving community. I even got his grandson into Gonzaga. Paid for his
education too.”
A bitterness filled her mouth as if she’d taken a big gulp
of the sludge in the coffee pot. “That was very generous of you.”
“As I said, we were close friends. I helped him and he
helped me.” A speculative gleam entered his eyes. “Tell me about your goals,
Sherriff. What is it that you most want?”
“I want to keep my town safe. Thank you for your time, Mr.
Neimi. I’ll be in touch.”
His eyes raked over her in a gaze so lewd, the filth would
take two showers to remove. “I’m looking forward to it.”
Chapter Seven
“You call this keeping a low profile?”
Kristos woke to his brother’s bellow and the slap of a
newspaper pegging him square in the face. He barely wiped the sleep out of his
eyes before Lucian flipped the mattress, spilling him onto the floor.
“By the Gods, Luc. What is your problem?”
This was not how he was supposed to wake up the morning
after a night of loving Brett. He was supposed to be in a warm bed next to his
hot woman. Not tossed out of his bed just after falling asleep because he spent
the previous night making sure said woman was not purposely running into
danger.
He pulled the tangled sheet from over his head and frowned
at the paper sprawled under his nose.
The Chameleon Saves Sheriff.
He stroked his chin and fluctuated between amused pride and
embarrassed horror. If Brett saw this, she was going to have to get behind his
brother in the kick Kristos’ ass line.
“And you wore the royal armor?” Lucian continued to shout.
“I swear, Kristosllanos, I wonder why I didn’t leave you on the death stone.”
“Don’t blame me. I didn’t come up with the name. I don’t
even know if I like it.” He got to his feet and stretched his aching muscles.
The day before had been more taxing on his body than a run down the river.
“You aren’t listening to a word I’m saying. You—what is
that?” Lucian pointed a shaking finger at Kristos’ head.
Kristos went to look in the mirror above the dresser and
sucked in a breath at the sight of his reflection. His two hearts kicked in
exhilaration as he fingered the dark-blond lock that fell across his forehead.
Brett’s mark.
On Skandavia, when a man and woman gave each other to their
keeping, their empathic abilities joined together so that they synchronized as
true partners. When the bond was complete their hair and eye color changed to
reflect the mated pair.
Brett let her fear stop the bond from completely forming,
which is why the color leached from her irises instead of matching the
jade-green of his. When the morning dawned and his appearance hadn’t changed at
all, he was half afraid he had completely misinterpreted her feelings for him.
This little lock of gold confirmed what he knew all along. She belonged to him.
“You spoke the Vows of Eternity?” Lucian’s voice raised an
octave.
“Calm down.” Kristos patted his brother’s rigid jaw. “You’ll
have an aneurism.”
He flicked at the blond lock. “I take it she rejected you?”
“Unless she speaks Skandavian, she doesn’t know. That’s why
the bond is not complete.” Kristos pulled a shirt and a pair of jeans from the
dresser.
“What else?”
“She’s stubborn.”
“No.” He shook his head and crossed his arms over his broad
chest. “You did something. I can feel it on my skin like sandpaper. What did
you do?”
Kristos scowled. With all of their abilities heightened on
Earth, it was even more difficult to hide emotions he’d rather not have Lucian
pick up on.
“I might have forbid her to work.”
Lucian raised a brow. His lips twitched before he let loose
with a deep chuckle, transforming his stern, drawn features into the
charismatic man Kristos remembered. “You do have a suicide wish, don’t you? The
pride that woman has for her profession shines around her like a halo. It’s her
calling. She worked hard and made sacrifices to obtain her position. Did you
think she would give it all up because of your profession of love?” When he
didn’t respond Lucian rolled his eyes. “Mercy take you, you did. It takes a
strong woman to be mated to a
Llanos
and I’ve never thought of the
sheriff as weak.”
His spine snapped in indignation. “I know she’s not weak.
Brett is one of the strongest women I’ve ever known. She’s brave, intelligent
and has a warrior’s spirit that not even half of our troops possessed. What
that one tiny woman can accomplish frankly scares the shit out of me.”
“Imagine the damage she could do if she knew our origins.”
Kristos controlled his wince and continued to prepare for
his shower, only to be pushed against the wall to face his brother’s volcanic
rage. “You told her!”
He pushed back against the solid wall of muscle. “Of course
I did. She’s my mate.”
“Let me see if I understand.” Lucian closed his eyes and
pinched the bridge of his nose. “You have exposed your abilities to the public,
fallen for a human who is the chief protector of her community, interfered with
her duties, told her that you are an alien with superhuman powers, then forbade
her from fulfilling her sworn oath after partially bonding with her.”
“Maybe not in that order, but yes. Sit down before you
hyperventilate.” Kristos pushed his brother to sit on the bed. “Actually, she
took the alien part very well. She was intrigued, compassionate. I sensed no
fear from her. It couldn’t have gone better, until she was called into work.
Which reminds me, Brett’s reaction to our origins is the least of our worries.”
“Let me guess, you’ve scheduled a press conference as the
Chameleon and are announcing that you are taking over the police force.”
He wished, but Brett would have his balls in a vise if he
dared suggest it. “No. Yesterday, when I was in that tunnel, I lost my powers.”
Lucian turned statue still. “Explain.”
“I don’t know if I can. There I was, moving rock and dirt,
forging a path to free Brett. The deeper I got, the more my muscles ached, my
speed slowed. It was as if something was leaching away my strength. I felt
human.”
“Any other side effects?” Lucian jumped to his feet and
began to pace. His movements reminded Kristos of the general Lucian once was.
As Lucian paced, he tapped his finger against the tip of his nose.
“Just a lingering lethargy. It reminded me of that four-day
training exercise over the Tulitian Mountains, when every man in the corps
wanted you dead for pushing our bodies beyond all limits. No one was able to
move without wincing for at least a week.”
His eyes lit up with the memory. “When did your strength
return?”
“As soon I climbed out of that hole. I wasn’t back to
normal, but significantly better.”
“There must be something there, a mineral or plant life that
affects our powers,” he mused out loud. “What is this tunnel used for?”
“That’s one of the issues. It’s not supposed to be there.
The national park is a protected area. It was pure misfortune that those
adolescents were there when the roof collapsed. There was another cave-in this
morning a quarter of a mile away but along the same path. I followed Brett to
the site. She suspects that someone is hiding something. Once she made it
safely to the station I came back here.”
“I’ll do some research on the geology of the area, collect
some specimens.” Lucian strode toward the door with an energy in each
long-legged stride Kristos hadn’t seen since they fought the Revolutionaries.
He stopped in the doorway and turned back with a pointed finger. “I have not
forgotten about your actions. I forbid you from donning the royal armor again.”
Kristos scoffed. As if he would allow himself to be treated
like a child. “You forbid me?”
“You do everything you can to prevent Brett from confronting
danger because you say you love her. Well, you are my brother and I love you. I
will not allow you to continue on this path that will lead to nothing but our
destruction. If you want this woman so badly, go to her, talk to her, but this
Chameleon nonsense ends now.” He lowered his head and his green eyes glowed
with a warning that once made entire armies fall to their knees. “If she
doesn’t stop you, I will.”
Chapter Eight
Brett stepped into the station and stopped short as the
overwhelming stench of cheap perfume filled her nostrils. She took several
halting steps toward her receptionist’s desk and asked quietly, “Who’s here?”
Janice snuck a quick glance toward the partially opened
office door and whispered, “Council members Schmidt, Meeker and Mrs. Dubois.”
Fan-fucking-tastic. “In ten minutes I want you to come into
my office and declare a national emergency, got it?”
“Yes ma’am.” The older woman covered her mouth and giggled
as her eyes danced behind her bifocals.
Brett opened the door and strode boldly into her office.
“Good afternoon. I thought the next council meeting wasn’t for another week.”
Milton Schmidt got to his feet and pulled on the cuffs of
his suit and smoothed back his lacquered salt-and-pepper hair. “Hello, Sheriff.
No, you’re correct about the next meeting. We’re here on a different matter.”
She said nothing and closed the door. Clarice Dubois sat in
Brett’s chair behind her desk, stinking up the upholstery. “Excuse me, Clarice,
but I believe you’ll be more comfortable over there.”
Clarice raised an over-plucked brow, but sulked to the
armchair on the other side of the office. “Sheriff, you must tell me your
secret on how you manage to keep your hair so flat. I have such trouble taming
my full tresses.” She patted the helmet of bleached-blonde hair that curled
around her shoulders.
Brett ignored the childish dig and looked back at the men.
“How might I assist you?”
Schmidt and Meeker shared a look that put her immediately on
guard.
“We received a call from Jebadiah Neimi,” Schmidt answered.
“He doesn’t like the aspersions you’ve been making on his character.”
“And what are those, exactly?” she asked.
Meeker cleared his throat and pulled at his long, gray
beard. “He said that you’re accusing him of a crime.”
She pinched her lips into a tight line and nodded. “Mr.
Neimi is indeed a person of interest and I treated him like I do any other
suspect.”
“And what crime are you accusing him of?”
“I can’t discuss details of an open investigation. But I can
say that I didn’t go disturb the man because I don’t have anything better to
do.”
The men shared another look while Clarice whipped out an
emery board and started in on her thick, acrylic nails. Meeker furrowed his
brow and nodded to Schmidt, egging him on.
“Sheriff, Jebadiah Neimi is a respected member of this
community. I’m sure that this is all just a big misunderstanding.”
That same tingle of ickiness she felt in Neimi’s office
snaked down her back. “What are you saying, Mr. Schmidt?”
He raised his hands in a silent plea. “Let’s forget about
Jebadiah and concentrate on something more productive, like the Founder’s Day
festival.”
The fucking Founder’s Day Festival?
She forced down the curse that rumbled in her throat and
took a step forward. The smile that curled her lip was pure honey as she slowly
reached up and removed her sunglasses to reveal a narrowed, white-eyed glare.
Schmidt and Meeker jumped back with a gasp that was almost
comical.
“You hired me to protect this community, did you not?” she
asked in a low, deep voice.
Schmidt recovered first. “Yes, but we also hired you because
we knew you would understand that we need to protect our friends as well.”
“That’s the second time today that I’ve heard the word
friend and it sounded filthy. I’m well aware of what my job is and it’s not to
play favorites. Anyone who commits a crime will be arrested, no matter who it
is. If I catch any of you so much as crossing a street against the big red
hand, I will ticket you at the maximum fine. And if you try to stop me, I will
arrest you for obstruction of justice. Am I clear?”
“Sheriff,” Schmidt choked, trying to laugh off her warning
while Meeker whimpered and tugged at his suspenders. No wonder Neimi had them
by the short and curlies. “We aren’t suggesting you bend the rules.”
“Could’ve fooled me. What would you call it?”
“Excuse me, Sheriff,” Janice poked her head around the door.
“There’s an emergency and you’re needed immediately.”
“One second, Janice. Gentlemen, Mrs. Dubois, I think this
conversation is over. You know where I stand. And I know where you stand. Now
if you’ll excuse me, I have a job to do.”
She marched out of the room with her head high and morals
firmly intact. Her ego was a bit battered at the realization that she hadn’t
been hired for ability but her supposed malleability. Ha! The joke was on them.
They hired a real sheriff so they could kiss her ass.
“Thanks, Janice. I owe you a coffee.”
“Sheriff.” She stopped Brett with an anxious grip on her
sleeve. “I wasn’t making that up. There’s been a landslide in Harper’s Ravine.
It’s blocking the river and the banks have been breached.”
“It’s blocking the entire river?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Tell them I’m on my way.”
She raced out of the station and jumped into her car.
Pressing the pedal to the floorboard, she sent the Crown Vic soaring over a
hump in the road and landed with a teeth-jarring bounce.
With the river blocked, more than their little community
would be affected. Along the banks lay dairy farms, fields of hops and barley,
and towns like Cedar that would be washed away with a sudden deluge of water and
debris if the pressure behind the blockade grew too great and was released too
quickly. Upstream lay prime logging country and the mill that employed over
half the town. But Brett’s biggest concern was the Old Saw Bridge, so named for
the crisscross pattern of antique two-man saws that decorated the railings. The
bridge sat in the middle of Harper’s Ravine, and with rush hour approaching, it
would be teeming with vehicles.
She spotted Collins, Dawson and two other deputies at the
scenic pullout over the river. She threw the car in park, but left the engine
running as she raced to the edge of the ravine. “How’s it looking?”
“Like God took a big piss,” Dawson answered.
“Thank you for the visual.”
A half a mile to her left was the twisted mess of rock,
trees and dirt that formed the crude dam. Her brow furrowed as she followed the
line of destruction over the ridge and into the forest. Unless she was
mistaken, it was the same path the tunnel and cave-ins ran along.
At this part of the ravine the river reached ten feet down
and spanned twenty yards. The dirty water batted against the dam, swirling and
churning like a frothy milk shake. The backwash tore at the surrounding
hillside as the downhill rush fought for dominance.
On her right, the Old Saw Bridge shook under the force of
opposing currents. Water splashed up the sides and licked the undercarriage,
ready to make a meal of the wood structure and appetizers of automobiles
traversing along the top.
“Jesus,” Brett cursed. “Why isn’t the bridge closed?”
“We were waiting for you,” Collins answered.
Her eyes popped out of their sockets. “If it’s a choice
between waiting for me or death, I choose not death for everyone.”
“Look, it’s the Chameleon,” Deputy Joyce called out. She
pulled a tube from her pocket and slicked on a layer of lip gloss then smoothed
out the wrinkles in her coat. “Man, look at him go.”
Brett leaned over the retaining wall to catch a better
glimpse of the man in blue jeans and a black hoodie, racing down the hillside.
He scrambled along the top of the makeshift dam and began clearing the largest
boulders from the center. Her heart swelled and lodged in her throat as a tree
trunk broke loose and came crashing straight for his head. He looked up and
swatted it away like a volleyball, sending it soaring across the water to land
with a huge splash.
“Who is he and can I get his number?” Joyce purred.
The deputies crowded around Brett, jockeying for the best
spot to witness the spectacle.
“Crazy son of a bitch,” she cried and spun to face the group
of men and one woman standing with their mouths hanging open. “Collins, Jaeger.
Get down there and close that bridge. Dawson, Joyce. Call the city. I want a
front-end loader at that dam, now.”
“Where are you going?” Dawson asked as she jumped into her
car.
“To stop that crazy ass from getting killed.”
The car’s engine caught with a roar as she pressed on the
gas and tore off down the road. Tires squealed as she left the asphalt for a
dirt trail usually used by meth runners, pot smokers and ATVs. Her teeth clashed
together at a particularly rough bump, but she kept the pedal pressed to the
floor.
What was Kristos thinking? He was a royal bodyguard and a
river rat for Pete’s sake, not a civil engineer or Superman. If the trees
didn’t crush him, then the water would suck him down to his death.
“You can’t go, Brett,” she mimicked his low baritone.
“You’ll endanger yourself and leave me all on my lonesome. Mother fucker. What
do you call this? It’s all right for you to risk your life, but not me?”
Sweat poured in her eyes and she flung the sunglasses away
to better see the sun-dappled lane. More sweat gathered in her palms, making
them slippery on the steering wheel.
Was this terrifying fear for his safety simply compassion
for the welfare of another person, or was the thought of a future without
Kristos too devastating to imagine?
So what if he was from another planet? He possessed most of
the important human body parts, some more impressive than others. His view on a
woman’s role in a relationship needed some serious readjustments, but he did
genuinely care for her. Could she risk her heart, and his, by answering the
plea in his jade-green eyes?
Ah, crap. You fell in love with him.
Denying the truth was useless. The man could sense her
emotions so what good did it do to refute them? She may be in love with him but
that didn’t mean he had all of the power. Once this was over, she was going to
have a nice sit-down chat with Mr. He-man. What was good for the goose was
going to be branded on the gander with a hot iron if they were to have any type
of relationship.
Up ahead the lane dropped off to where the Cedar River cut
into the ravine. Brett hit the brakes and turned the wheel hard to the right.
Rubber flew in all directions as smoke and dirt spewed from the tires on the passenger
side of the cruiser. Metal grated on rock as she skidded toward the cliff in a
frame-by-frame slide show until the ground gave way to nothingness. Her entire
body locked in place and she closed her eyes tight as the back end of the sedan
slipped over the edge.
A vision of Kristos’ devilish smile was the last thing
remembered as she wailed, “Son of a bitch!”
Suddenly, the car jerked from its downward momentum, her
seat belt tightening across her torso. Her eyes flew opened and, as if she
conjured him from a dream, she saw Kristos through the dirt-streaked
windshield. The muscles in his arms strained as he gripped the car’s bumper.
His lips pulled back on a snarl as he dragged the two-ton machine back onto
flat terrain.
The entire universe faded away as Brett sat in shock. Her
fingers remained curled around the steering wheel and her eyes dried out from
the inability to blink. Her lips tried to move, but her brain refused to
function. Every synapse was a scrambled mess.
She was saved? How could that be? The car was going over the
edge. She had been looking up at the overcast sky. She was supposed to be dead
or at least severely jacked up.
Kristos ran to her door and yanked it so hard it came off
the hinges with a metallic shriek. He snapped the seat belt out of the console
and hauled her into his arms with so much force she knew he left bruises.
“By the Gods, Brett, I thought I wouldn’t make it.” She
barely heard him over the roar of blood racing in her ears. “I thought you were
gone.” He peppered her face and hair with kisses. His big hands tracked down
her back and sides then up to cup her face. “My
alskata
.”
His blazing kiss began the slow thaw of her brain functions.
Spiked with terror and relief, his lips and tongue reawakened her nerve endings
and jolted her to consciousness. She melted into the kiss, breathing in his
scent and the sting of cold mountain air. Her hands curled in his shirt,
absorbing the solid strength of his pounding chest under her palms.
She pulled away with a gasp. “Oh God, what happened?”
He smoothed the hair that escaped her braid. “I felt your
distress and came running, but then it spiked to terror.” He buried his face in
her neck and muttered a litany of words she didn’t understand.
Despite the radiant heat of his body, her teeth chattered.
Adrenaline heightened all of her senses. The crisp air, filled with the heavy
scent of wet dirt and smoke, choked her, and the brilliant blue of his shirt
was blinding.
Blue shirt.
“I don’t understand,” she murmured and ran her hands over the
electric-blue cotton, shaking her head in confusion. “How did you know where I
was?”
“I followed you from the lookout.”
“No. You were down in the ravine, unblocking the river.”
He frowned as well and traced his thumb over her eyebrow.
“What? Why is the river blocked?”
“There was a landslide and it’s causing the river to flood.
You know that because you ran down to dig it out.” He continued to stare at her
as if the near-death experience was causing her to hallucinate. “If you’re here
then who is down there with a black hoodie covering their head?”
Kristos began to shake his head then his eyes widened with
recognition. “Lucian.”
The world spun as he scooped her into his arms and raced
toward the landslide. His stride was fast like a cheetah, his gait smooth and
steady, yet she clung to his shoulders so tightly her fingers ached. “Kristos,
what’s going on?”