ALIEN SHIFTER ROMANCE: Alien Tigers - The Complete Series (Alien Invasion Abduction Shapeshifter Romance) (Paranormal Science Fiction Fantasy Anthologies & Short reads) (62 page)

Chapter Six

Days became weeks, one date became two, became five, and Lily was happy. Her father was not. She tried to avoid fighting with him when Corbin was around, but it seemed as though he always knew when she had anyway. She wasn’t sure if it was that or something else bothering him, but as the months wore on, he seemed more and more stressed. He was still gentle, still attentive and warm, but she could see the worry behind his smiles, and some nights she woke to find him sitting slumped in the chair in front of his desk, running his fingers distractedly through his hair. Trying to coax the reason out of him had been unsuccessful. Every time she tried, he turned the conversation around to her, to her father. He was insisting that she get him help.

Lily knew, of course, that Corbin was right, that something had to be done. She struggled against the knowledge until a day in late August, and then she gave her father an ultimatum: either he went to rehab, or he found a new place to live. He’d yelled at her, accused her of not caring about him, but she’d held her ground until rage had turned to tears and he’d agreed to go.

Two days later, she had dropped him off. After a week, he’d called to tell her that he was glad she had made him go, that he was thinking clearly for the first time in a long time. Lily had been so relieved she’d cried.

It was September, and Lily was thinking about broaching the subject of moving in together, when Corbin told her they needed to talk. She settled onto his couch with nerves twisting in her stomach, her hands clasped together in her lap, and waited for him to speak.

“There is something that, if this is to go any further, I have to tell you,” he said quietly, staring down at his hands. “Something very big that you don’t know.”

He was a criminal. He’d been divorced. He had a child. The possibilities flicked through Lily’s thoughts, and she clenched her hands together tighter.

“I’m not sure you’re going to believe it.” Corbin took a deep breath, and dragged his gaze up to meet hers. “I’m not human.”

That was not a possibility she had considered.

“You’re not what?”

He looked as sick as she felt. “I’m an alien.” She opened her mouth to speak, but he held up a hand. “Not the body-snatching kind.” If he was trying for a joke, it fell flat, and the smile he’d attempted faltered. His voice got very quiet. “The shapeshifting kind, actually.”

“You’re a shapeshifting alien.”

Corbin nodded.

“Prove it,” Lily demanded.

He looked startled, as though that wasn’t quite the reaction he’d expected, but then he nodded again. The change was subtle, at first, a shift she couldn’t quite explain, and then it was rapid, his body folding in on itself until suddenly there was a large black bird sitting in a puddle of fabric where he had been. It tilted its head, and looked at her through one dark eye.

Lily stared at it in startled silence.

“You… That was you,” she said finally.

Corbin squawked something that was maybe bird for yes, and then the change was reversing itself, and he was sitting in front of her as a human again, though his clothes hadn’t made the transition as gracefully as he had. He didn’t seem bothered by his nudity.

“It was me,” he said, in the tone of a confession. “I know that it was an invasion of privacy, though I didn’t at first.” He looked down. “I only wanted to be sure you were okay.”

For a moment, Lily was angry. He had no right. She didn’t need him spying on her to make sure she was okay. Then she remembered the way he had stopped the fight with her father the day he’d been angry enough to scare her. She remembered the little black cat she had seen only once.

“The cat?”

He nodded without looking up.

Lily rubbed her fingers against her abruptly aching temples and let out her breath in a slow sigh.

“So what happens now?”

He finally raised his head to look at her.

“I have to leave.”

“What?” The word was ripped from her. “Why?”

“Because there were rules. And I’ve broken them. I wasn’t supposed to date you. I wasn’t supposed to tell you any of this. And I certainly wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you.” A laugh, soft and bitter, escaped him. “Love is not something we’re supposed to even be capable of.” He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes still locked on hers. “I was sent as a spy, and I’ve failed utterly in my duty. They know where I am. As long as I’m here, I’m in danger, and so are you. And I won’t allow that.”

I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you.

It was the first time either of them had said it.

She should wish him goodbye and good riddance. She should walk out and let him leave and not care. He was an alien. A
shapeshifting alien spy
, for heaven’s sake. She should do a lot of things. It was absolutely crazy to do what she was contemplating.

“So take me with you.”

“What?”

Lily almost laughed at the shocked echo of her own earlier demand.

“Take me with you,” she said again. “We’ll go somewhere far away. We’ll see the world together.”

“I’ve just told you,” he said slowly, “that I am a shapeshifting alien spy, running for my life, and you want me to take you with me?”

“Yes.”

Corbin threw up his hands, an edge of hysteria in his laughter.

“Well why not then? I’ll just… I’ll just take you with me.” His voice softened. “We’ll see the world together.”

And it was crazy. It was absolutely insane. But somehow, Lily was okay with that. She stood, then held out a hand to him, and he took it with a grasp so tight it almost hurt. She helped him to his feet. His arms wrapped tightly around her. She held him in return, his face pressed to her shoulder, buried in her hair.

“I love you too,” she said.

It was insane, but at least it wouldn’t be boring.

THE END

An Alien Romance

Chapter 1

“Oh no,” Amanda said, staring down at her dashboard. “Why the hell does this keep happening?”

The needle on her gas gauge had just spontaneously shifted from around an eighth of a tank to well below “E,” and, as Amanda’s car sputtered forward, she knew that she was nearing empty.

That’s what you get for driving such an old car
, Amanda told herself, once again. She’d said that same phrase to herself several times over the past few months, since her gas gauge first started giving her problems. She’d tried to keep track of her gas consumption by tallying her mileage, but she’d never been that good with math, and she didn’t know the rate at which her 1992 Chevy Cavalier consumed fuel. So, every once in awhile, despite her efforts, she ended up in a situation like this… though this situation was like no other she’d encountered before.

“Fuck,” Amanda said, examining her cell phone. “No Service” flashed across the screen at her, and she wanted to throw the useless piece of junk out of the moving car window.

Amanda looked out at the sprawled-out, empty space beside her as the car continued to slowly lurch forward. She’d been driving along an unoccupied, rural stretch of highway, and there wasn’t a home, business, or shred of discernable human life or activity around for miles. When her car ran out of gas before, it had always been in the city, and there was always a way to get gas—she could call someone, call the auto club, or walk to a gas station. None of those were options at this point, and Amanda cursed herself as she finally relegated to reality and pulled over to the side of the road.

She thought she’d gotten more than enough gas to get her from her apartment in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, to her cousin’s home in Washington, Pennsylvania—but, then again, she’d never been that good with math, and she didn’t know the rate at which her 1992 Chevy Cavalier consumed fuel. Apparently, she hadn’t gotten enough, and she didn’t know how she was going to get more.

I really should’ve taken advantage of President Obama’s Cash for Clunks incentive,
Amanda thought to herself as she got out of her car and walked back to her trunk. She had a spare gas can back there, and she knew it was futile to check it. She was well aware that it was empty, as she’d drained it a few days earlier outside of a bagel shop, but, nonetheless, she checked it. It turned out there were a few drops still in it, and, for a moment, Amanda thought about dumping her bottle of drinking water into the can to try and stretch it. She didn’t know if that would be safe, so she decided against it.

If her phone had been working, Amanda would have used her Wi-Fi signal to check and see if stretching gas with water was dangerous, but since her phone wasn’t working, she couldn’t… and she couldn’t call her cousin, the auto club, or a cab. She couldn’t do anything. She was, by every measure of the word, stranded.

Get yourself together,
Amanda told herself. She was starting to feel very overwhelmed and intimidated by the situation. Her heart was racing, and so was her mind, and she felt like she was going to cry, pass out, or vomit. She thought of all those cheesy horror movies where a car broke down on the side of the road, and the driver was hunted by sadistic, ravenous, in-bred cannibals. This neck of the woods wasn’t too far from the Appalachian Mountains, you know—and, come to think of it, cheesy or not, those movies
were
pretty darn scary.

But it wasn’t just the prospect of being hunted by cannibals that frightened Amanda. She was also afraid of some more “practical” things—like running into your average, run-of-the-mill criminal who was looking to rob, rape, kidnap or murder someone. People like that really did exist, and, if Amanda had any doubt that they did, she knew all she needed to do to be reminded was flick on the local news station.

Amanda didn’t have any flares of indicators to set up in order to draw attention to her vehicle, and given all her fears, she wasn’t sure that she’d use them if she did. She figured, civilization had to be nearby somewhere. It wasn’t close, for miles, but it couldn’t be
that
far, and, as she stumbled toward it, maybe she’d find a spot that actually got cell phone reception.

It may not have been the wisest thing to leave a car on the side of the road, but Amanda decided she’d rather leave it sitting there by itself than stay inside it like a sitting duck. Plus, it was a 1992 Chevy Cavalier, don’t forget—if someone wanted it so badly that they did whatever it took to steal it, Amanda figured they deserved it. The car’s Blue Book value couldn’t have been more than $500.

Amanda hopped behind the steering wheel one last time to collect some of her belongings from the front seat. Her useless phone, wallet, and a half-eaten candy bar had been scattered there throughout the evening, and she needed each of them and more for the next leg of her journey.

Amanda turned around and reached to the seat behind her to grab her overnight bag. When she turned back around to face the front again, she dropped the bag, gasped, and felt startled. A bright light was shining on her, and a vehicle was traveling in her direction.

Chapter 2

“Where am I?” Amanda asked, though she didn’t know if there was anyone around to hear her. All she could see was bright light and white, and all she could hear was the purr of something electronic humming. Her body felt warm, but there was cold air all around her, and even though she was lightheaded and dizzy, she’d never felt so calm and at peace… not ever.

As quickly as Amanda wondered where she was, she stopped caring. She felt so wonderful—so soothed, yet so alive—that it no longer mattered where she was or how she had gotten there. All she cared about was staying right there, in the moment… with the bright light and the humming, with the cool air rushing over her warm body and the smell of… the smell of…
What’s that?
Amanda thought as her mouth began to drool and her brain registered the word “bacon.”

“What the hell happened to you last night?” Marie said, rushing into the room, gnawing on a piece of the irresistible cured meat. Amanda felt a jolt surge through her body, and she sprung up in bed a moment after her cousin entered.

“What do you mean?” Amanda asked, looking down at the clothes she was wearing. She had on white panties and a white camisole, though she couldn’t recall whether she’d been wearing the garments for a day or for a few hours. She grabbed the blanket from beside her and wrapped her lower legs in it. “It’s cold in here,” she said, running her hand through her hair.

“You must have had
some
night,” Marie chided. “I heard you mumbling in here earlier, and gave you some time to wake up. But, now, I’ve waited long enough, and I want details. So why don’t you get dressed, come to the kitchen, and tell me all about it?” Marie couldn’t help but notice that her cousin was totally disoriented and out of her wits, but she figured Amanda must have had one too many the night before and was still recovering.

Marie stood up and walked out of the spare bedroom, leaving Amanda to herself. It took a good minute or two before Amanda was able to get up on her feet, and when she did, the first thing she did was walk over to the window. She pulled back the curtain and gazed out at the driveway beyond. Her 1992 Chevy Cavalier was parked there, safely and soundly, and Amanda cocked her head to the side as she tried to remember how on earth it got there.

The last thing she could remember with any degree of clarity was leaving Pittsburgh for Washington. Then, something happened… but what was it? She could vaguely remember pulling her car over to the side of the road before she saw a bright light, and then…

“What? Are you gonna make me beg you for the details?” Marie said, reappearing at the bedroom door with a steaming cup of coffee. Amanda looked at it and suddenly felt thirsty—very thirsty, perhaps even parched. It was that same disgusting, dry-mouthed taste she got after a heavy night of drinking, and she found herself licking her lips to get rid of it.

As Amanda ran her tongue over her lips, she tasted something sweet, and, in a flash, her mind was hit with an image. She saw herself seated at a table with a man, drinking something warm and green from a glass mug. She couldn’t see the man, or what was going on around them, but she could see the liquid in the mug—and, by golly, she could taste it. It was the same taste that still lingered on her lips, and it still tingled her taste buds.

“Son of a bitch,” Amanda said, sitting back down on the bed. She reached for the pair of jeans that were neatly folded beside the bed and pulled them on. Her memories—or lack thereof—had obviously stirred her back to her senses.

“I don’t know what type of moonshine they serve in bars around here,” Amanda said, zipping up her jeans. “But, whatever I drank last night, it really fucked me up… and, I can barely remember what happened.”

Amanda slid her feet into a pair of flip-flops that were beside the bed, thankful that everything she needed to get up and go about her day had been so conveniently located near her.

“Are you sure someone didn’t slip you something?” Marie asked, sipping her coffee.

Amanda looked at her cousin and shook her head in the negative. “We both know this isn’t the first time I blacked out from drinking too much,” Amanda admitted. She hung her head low a little and felt humbled—she’d never been a lush, but she’d always had a rather low tolerance for alcohol.

What was just enough for some people was usually too much for Amanda, and what sent them over the top usually floored her. She’d blacked out a few times over the years, and because of that, she tried to pay extra close attention to her drinking habits—but, like the way she gauged her gas consumption, her calculations must have been a little off the night before, and she’d consumed more than her limit. Though, for the life of her, she still couldn’t remember drinking in the first place, but that had to be what happened, right?

“Well, what
do
you remember?” Marie asked, as hungry for information as Amanda was for the bacon she hoped to find in the kitchen.

“All I remember is drinking something green with a guy at a table,” Amanda said, walking out the door and down the hallway.

“Was he at least hot?” Marie asked, following after her.

“I don’t remember what he looked like at all,” Amanda said with a chuckle, trying to make light out of a heavy situation. “But, yeah, he was hot. I remember that much.”

Amanda stopped dead in her tracks and turned to look at her cousin. “Actually, I think he was the hottest man I’ve ever met in my life.”

“Yeah right,” Marie said, slapping Amanda on the shoulder. “He was so hot, but you have no idea what he looked like? Whatever! Stop giving me a hard time.”

From the way Marie responded to Amanda, it was clear that she thought Amanda was teasing her or being sarcastic, but, alas, Amanda wasn’t. When she said that the man from the night before was the hottest man she’d ever met in her life, she meant it, and it simply wasn’t important to her that she couldn’t remember any other details.