Runner's Moon: Yarrolam (4 page)

            “Sorry for the less than stellar accommodations.”

            She flashed him a tired smile. “It’s far better than having to sleep in the car.”

            “Hey, the front seat reclines,” he teased.

            She snorted and watched where he placed the baggage. “Liam, what about you? What are you going to do about fresh clothes?”

            “I saw a sign. This town has a WonderMart.”

            “I dare you to show me a town that doesn’t,” she snickered.

            “They’re open twenty-four hours. I’m going to run over there to get a couple of pairs of jeans and some shirts. Maybe pick up something to eat. Is there anything in particular you’d want?”

            Cherron shook her head, placing a hand on her abdomen. “I’m not hungry. Just tired.

            “Want to go with me?”

            “No, thanks. I think I’ll get my bath while you’re gone.”

            “Lock the door behind me,” he advised. Pulling the confiscated pistol from his pants pocket, he handed it to her. “Know how to work one of these?”

            She gingerly took it. “Not really, but I’m a fast learner.”

He caught a whiff of apples coming from her, and it gave him hope. She was coming to trust him.

            “I’ll try not to be long,” he promised. Making sure she saw him take the cell phone, Yarrolam slipped out the door and hurried over to the car.

            He hurried to make his purchases, even as the night and slight breeze sang their siren song to him. He longed to slough his outer self and let his alien body breathe freely, but he would have to wait a little bit longer. Eventually, he knew he’d have to revert back to this true self. If he didn’t do it voluntarily, his physique would do it for him. He couldn’t keep this human form continuously, and that was the real reason why they couldn’t report the incident in the parking lot to the police. If they locked him up, even for twenty-four hours, at some point he would revert to his Ruinos form. Yarrolam dreaded to think what kind of chaos would erupt if that occurred.

            Dumping his purchases in the trunk, he got into the car and pulled out the cell phone. Despite the late hour, it was answered on the third ring.

            “Harry.”

            “Viharrud? Yarrolam.”

            The Ruinos on the other end automatically switched to their native language. “What is wrong? Why are you calling me from a strange number?”

            Yarrolam quickly filled him in on the details, including the most important one.

            “Viharrud, I smell her.”

            The other Ruinos didn’t hesitate. “Praise the heavens! When I first learned Jebaral had found his mate, I knew it was only a matter of time before we all do. Hopefully. I am delighted for your good luck, my friend!”

            “Do not thank me until this is over, and I have claimed her.” Yarrolam took a deep breath. “I do not have access to my home computer. I am late transmitting this quarter’s funds.”

            “I will notify the others of your circumstance. What is your next plan of action?”

            “My first need is to protect Cherron. One part of me says to go back and search for the person behind the attack. But another part of me warns that doing so puts me at greater risk of discovery.” And if his secret was discovered, his chances of protecting her would disappear.

            “Call me if you need help,” Viharrud told him. Yarrolam expected his old friend to extend the offer. Still, he felt better hearing it.

            “I will.”

            “Call me tomorrow to update me on your progress.”          

            “I will,” Yarrolam promised again, and closed their connection.

            Cherron was waiting for him when he arrived back at the motel. Once he entered the room, she threw her arms around his waist and hugged him.

            “I worried the whole time you were gone,” she admitted.

            He couldn’t keep from putting his hands on her shoulders. Or from pressing his nose against her wet hair and taking a deep breath, drawing her fresh, lilac scent into his lungs and into his bloodstream.

            His body reached for her, and the first tentative urge to take her swept over him. He knew, as did all the other Ruinos, the details regarding Jebaral and Hannah. Jebaral had shared those details with the rest of them, as they would need to know what to expect in the event they also came across a human who might be their life mate.

            He scoured his memory for the information. Her scent had been the first indicator. There would be other clues. But the deciding factor would be to claim her physically. To make love with her. If she was truly his, afterwards a blood line would form in his arm, and he would have his proof positive. That unquestionable mark was one all Ruinos would accept without hesitation.

            He closed his eyes. Unfortunately, there would be no lovemaking tonight, nor in the immediate future.

            He had to go. He had to get out the room, away from Cherron’s alluring scent. Put some distance between them so he could think.

            More than that, he needed to shed his human skin. For the past hour he’d fought the urge to change. It was worse than an irresistible itch. It was rapidly growing into a craving he knew he wouldn’t be able to ignore much longer.

            Pulling her away from him, he gazed down at her. With her makeup gone, and her thick black hair framing her face, she was incredibly beautiful. She looked up at him with those unusual eyes, waiting for him to say something.

            “Call me paranoid, but I want to take a look around outside. I won’t be gone long.”

            “Do you think we’re in danger here?”

            “No,” he admitted truthfully. “I think we’re safe. At least, for tonight.”

            “Then why do you have to go out again?”

            Her flesh was warm and firm beneath his palms. She wore a soft, sleeveless T-shirt and a pair of silk pajama bottoms. The combination made her appear vulnerable.

            “For my peace of mind,” he insisted.

            “All right, but I’m staying up and waiting for you until you get back.”

            Her earnestness made him smile.

            He slipped out the door, pausing to hear her turn the deadbolt and draw the chain latch. With her secured inside, he hurried around to the rear of the motel where there were no windows overlooking the back area. After removing his clothes and leaving them behind a stack of cardboard boxes, he shed his human self.

            The night washed over him, pure and clean. Yarrolam lifted his face toward the half moon as it peered between the clouds. He caught the stench of gasoline and oil, of cars and machinery. But there was also the green of trees and grass. Not far away was an open field. A place where he could run free, unrestrained. And think.

            Smiling to himself, Yarrolam took off for the edge of town.

Chapter 6

APB

            There was something different about Liam Vost. Different, strange, and a little frightening.

            No. It was more than a little frightening.

            It had been a restless night for both of them. She had watched some nonsensical movie until he’d returned. By the time he had showered, she’d already fallen asleep.

            He was awake before she was. Once she was up, he’d gone back outside for another look around. Cherron quickly dressed in a pair of jeans and blouse, foregoing makeup and fixing her hair. Instead, she opted for a ponytail.

            Pushing aside the curtain, she peered out the window, at the motel parking lot. The place was half full. Everything appeared normal. People exited or entered their rooms. Another car pulled up next to Liam’s, and for a moment her stomach churned with fear until a man, a woman, and a little boy got out.

            She glanced at the pistol lying on the chair a few feet away. If anyone tried to break down the door, they would have a surprise waiting for them.

            A big surprise.

            She closed her eyes. For the umpteenth time, she wondered if she’d imagined what she’d seen last night. When Liam had fought those men, what had happened to his hands? At first, she’d thought Liam had put on a pair of gloves, but when would he have done that? It didn’t make any sense for someone to pull on what appeared to be a pair of dark green gardening gloves. But when they got into the car, the gloves were gone, as if he’d jerked them off and left them in the parking lot. If he’d stuffed them into a pocket, there would be a bulge. There was no bulge. And she seriously doubted he would have gone to the trouble of bringing a pair of gloves with him to pick her up at the airport, when he planned to take her out to eat. It made not one bit of sense. Yet, she could remember the sight of those massive hands with the…

           
Claws?

            A sound came from outside. She inhaled quickly and backed away from the window. Cautiously, she lifted the curtain again and took another peek. Someone was getting something from the trunk of his car. He slammed down the lid, then retreated back into his room. The sound of the slam reminded her of the man hitting the car when Liam jumped him.

            “Jumped? Hell. He has steel springs for legs. I don’t think an Olympic broad jump athlete could make that kind of leap from a dead standstill. How in the world does an office jockey manage something like that? You have to be working out, Liam. There’s no other answer.”

            A shadow crossed in front of her. She jerked back again, when there came a knock on the door.

            “Cherron, it’s me.”

            There was no way anyone could imitate that accent. Undoing the locks, she opened the door. Liam slipped inside. He glanced at her, noting her attire, and smiled.

            “Are you ready for some breakfast?”

            At the mention of food, she realized she was hungry. “More than ready. Is the coast clear?”

            “As far as I can tell.” He walked over and picked up the pistol, slipping it into his jeans pocket. Grabbing her suitcase, then his bag of clothes, he followed her outside.

            A few blocks from the motel was a small diner. They went inside to eat, taking a booth near one of the windows where they could keep an eye on the car, and to keep an eye open for anyone suspiciously checking out the car.

            After ordering, Liam leaned over the table, keeping his voice low. “I’ve decided you’re right. We need to let the police know what happened.”

            She almost choked on her coffee. “What changed your mind?”

            “A good night’s sleep.”

            Cherron snorted. “Well, at least
one
of us slept well.”

            He started to respond, when the temporary cell rang. They both checked the number.

            “It’s not Aaron’s,” she told him.

            “It’s not one I recognize, either,” he admitted. He hit the accept button and put the phone to his ear. “Hello?” His eyes flew open, and he appeared shocked by what he heard. “I’ve heard of you,” he said.

            “What?” Cherron whispered.

            He waved for her to hold on.

            “We’re in a little town in Mississippi, right off Interstate 10. We’re not too far from Gulfport.” He nodded as the voice on the other end continued speaking. She couldn’t make out what was being said, but Liam paid close attention.

            “We’re heading back to New Orleans this morning. I need to contact who? Detective Washoo. Got it. Thank you, Thom. Yes, we will. All right.” He put the phone down.

            “Well?” she insisted. “Who was that? Who’s Detective Washoo?”

            He clasped his hands on the table in front of him, and bowed his head. When he finally spoke, he looked directly at her. “When I escaped from my country, I was one of only thirty others who made it out in time. I’ve kept in contact with a few of them. We’re all connected with one another through a very complex communications web.”

            She gave him a perplexed frown. “Are you saying all of the others—”

            “Ruinos. We’re called Ruinos.”

            “Ruinos. Are you telling me the other Ruinos are illegal aliens? I’m assuming they’re all here in the US.”

            “They are. I don’t know if they’ve all managed to get their green cards, but I admit we slipped into this country without permission.”

            Their dishes were delivered, and the waitress refilled their coffee cups. When she left, Cherron leaned over the table. “Liam, are you here on a green card? Is that the real reason why you didn’t want to go to the authorities?”

            “That’s…one of them.”

            She immediately knew the man was still holding something back, but this wasn’t the time or place to pursue it.

            “Who was on the phone? One of your countrymen?”

            “His name is Thom DeGrassi. He’s married to Tiron. She’s from my w-...country.”

            “Why did he call you? How
did he know to call you on the new phone?”

            “I called one of my friends last night to let him know what had happened. In case something happened to us, I felt someone should be aware of it. He must have contacted Thom.”

            “Why would your friend contact him?”

            “Thom was a detective in Crescent City when he met Tiron. They moved to Tumbril Harbor where Thom now works for the local sheriff’s department. Thom called to let me know there’s an APB out for me.”

            Cherron felt a chill run through her. “Oh, God. Is Aaron…”

            “They can’t find him. Our office was broken into, and the place was ransacked. The police tried to contact us, without success. I tried to call him again this morning, but it went straight to voice mail.”

“Do you think Aaron destroyed his phone like you did?”

            “He may have. Cherron, they think the people who trashed our office were the same ones who broke into our apartments.”