Alien Romance: Interview with an Alien (Football Paranormal Invasion Abduction Alpha Sci-fi Romance) (Fantasy First New Adult Contact Science Fiction Mystery Sports Alien Short Stories) (25 page)

*****

Marla sat in a plush old chair in the comfortable, rustic living room with. The blond, Liam was pacing the room, knotting and knitting his fingers. The red haired Hroth, Leon stood gazing into the fireplace, arms folded. Laird, Janet and the Head had been left in the car. As Marla finished her tale neither Hroth spoke for a long time. But when Leon stirred Liam sat on the arm of Marla’s chair and took her hand.

“Your woes are deep and grievous,” Leon said still staring into the fire. “And our hearts are moved.”

“Then,” Marla said hesitantly, “you’ll help me?”

“We can’t.”

“But”

“You say that this was done to Laird by the one named Dana?”

Marla nodded to his back.

“I know her,” Leon said. “She is a
ketch
.”

Marla didn’t know what the word meant, but she felt Liam’s hand clutch hers.

“She’s worse than a
ketch,
” Leon went on. “She is loathsome. But that is not in our discussion. Only a female can work the protector, and we have no females here. There is an enclave in Idaho. I can let them know that you are coming, but I cannot promise that they will help. Of course we will help you with anything that you might need for your journey. If you drive straight through you can be there in three days.”

“Three days?” Marla cried. “I can’t wait three days. That witch has Jason!’

“I do not know who this witch Vanessa is, but if she has fallen in with Dana she must be formidable. You should cut your losses and save Laird. Go to Idaho.”

“Leon please, there has to be something someone here can do. I am begging you. You have to help me!”

“You!” Leon said whirling to her. “Why the hell should we help you?”

“Leon!” Liam said in a hushed urgency. “Your voice. The children.”

“You,” Leon said. “You came to us as an ambassador; a position of good faith. Then you thrust yourself into our lives, break Liam’s heart and then steal away in the night with Laird leaving shambles in your wake. The sorrows that you have caused are just beginning to feel like they might fade away someday. And now you want us to help you so that you can go and rescue your other lover?”

“Not just Jason,” Marla pleaded. “The witch has girls as breeding slaves. And she has Rachel, Janet’s wife.”

“The lives of your friends don’t concern us. You promised to leave us alone, but here you are grinding salt into old wounds and begging us to help your lover. You have some gall, woman.”

“It’s not gall,” Liam said. “It’s desperation.”

“I don’t care what her motivation is,” Leon said. “We cannot help her.”

“Yes, I can.”

Marla’s heart dared to hope. Liam let go her hand, stood and move to Leon. Leon backed away.

“Liam?” he said. Marla heard his authority drain from his voice. “You can’t mean?”

“I want to help,” Liam said. “I have to help. And not just for Laird. Marla talked of the witch breeding werewolves. Once she has a brood, she can breed more and more.  I don’t know about you, but I am not comfortable with the idea of Dana having a small army. I have to help.”

“But – but the children.”

“Sweetheart the children will adapt. For all they know it’s just something that Daddies do sometimes. And it will only be for a little while.”

“What about the others in town? What will they think?”

Liam looked at Leon with one eyebrow raised.

“Don’t be so petty.”

“I just . . .” Leon clutched his hair. It was his turn to start pacing. “It’s just so sudden. I mean, we need to think about this.”

“You think about it. I already have. Now excuse me, I need some privacy.”

And so saying Liam left the room. Leon glared at Marla. The fire and passion quickly returned and he stormed to her. He grabbed her by the lapels and pulled her face to face.

“You would battle a witch,” he said seething. “But you are nothing but a harpy, stealing joy wherever you go. You had better kick that witch’s ass from here to
Franaal
, or I will . . .”

He raised a fist. Marla shrank back but no blow came. He shoved her back into the chair and stormed from the room. Marla sat alone, confused and frightened. She wondered what she had just caused. Leon’s words cut to her heart, but what choice did she have? Liam was right, she was desperate. But in her desperation what had she caused.

She didn’t know what to do. She sat and waited. And waited. The grandfather clock softly chimed an hour. She thought to check with Janet, but she dared not move. The clocked chimed the quarter hour, the half hour, then she heard someone on the stairs and a figure strode into the room.

“Liam?” she gasped.

The blond haired woman smiled and nodded.

“Your – you’re a girl?”

“A female,” Liam said, “to be precise. Not like those funny little changes we can do during sex. This is a transformation.”

“Into a real female?”

“Yep,” Liam said. “Ovaries, mammaries, the whole shebang. Though my breasts feel like they have an awful sunburn, and the hair down there itches. But that will pass, I’m sure.”

“How . . .”

“You want the technical lecture?”

“B-but – Leon?”

“He’ll get over it,” Liam chuckled, “especially when he realizes what I can do. Besides, I like being pretty.”

And she was. She had changed her clothes, but she filled the boy clothes rather nicely. Her curves fit her form, her blonde hair seemed to glimmer and she even had lovely nails.

“So,” she said. “Shall we see to our friend?”

*****

By the first hint of dawn they had reached Interstate Ninety-five Southbound. Marla was too wound up, so she drove. Janet was asleep in the passenger seat. The Head was propped up in the cargo area, staring in awe at the dark world outside. Laird lay in the backseat, slowly uncurling. Liam had said that it would take some time for him to fully recover.

She had gone with Marla to the Blazer. She crawled into the back seat. She stroked his hair a few times, then holding his forehead in her open palm she spoke a single, unintelligible word and the silvery glow pulsed once, then twice, then faded. Laird took a deep breath and Marla’s heart melted. Then Liam slid out and smiled nodding to Marla.

“That’s it?”

“That’s all,” Liam said. “I know; all that ado for a soft touch and a loving word. But it was the only way.”

“Okay,” Marla said. “Okay. What do we do now?”

“He’s sleeping.  Let the poor dear rest. He’ll recover soon. When he wakes he’ll be sore, but none the worse.”

“Will he, remember?”

“Oh yes,” Liam said, “everything. He will even be aware of what has happened around him while he was in stasis.”

“Oh, Liam,” Marla said wrapping her arms around the woman. “How can I thank you?”

“Do what you have to do,” Liam said caressing her. “Save your lover. Save Janet’s lover. Save the world from that witch’s werewolf army. But most of all forget what Leon said.”

“It’s true,” Marla said clutching Liam, the woman’s breasts nestling above her own. “Wherever I go I bring trouble and sorrow.”

“No child. Wherever you go you make choices. You stand up. That’s why despite all the trouble and sorrow, I still love you.”

Marla gazed into the Hroth’s intense yet serene eyes. She moved, just a little. Liam moved back, just a little. Their lips brushed. Then Laird groaned.

“I’m sorry!” Janet cried. “I just thought – I thought that if he was going to uncurl, that we should get that belt and pack off of him. I mean – I mean there’s a knife back there.”

“Your friend is very wise,” Liam said.

And so with Laird free of the constraints, he seemed to relax in his sleep and uncurl a little. Liam smiled, kissed Marla and went back into her house. With a different sort of ache in her heart, but with a new will to go on, Marla took the wheel and they drove away. She kept glancing back at Laird. As the hours progressed, he relaxed until he was stretched out in the back seat. Dawn was full when he finally stirred. Marla smiled when she saw his eyes open.

“Hey you,” she said. “Welcome back. How’re you feeling?”

“Coffee,” he said.

“Next rest stop.”

“Where are we?”

“Massachusetts,” Marla said. “Heading to Bean-Town.”

“Why?”

“To save Jason.”

“Is Jason in Boston?”

“Probably not,” she said. “But we need the help of a witch. And so we are going to pay a visit to Jarris.”

“Yep.”

“Oh boy.”

At the rest stop, Laird spent some time on the grassy place working out the kinks. Then they both relished the fast-food coffee. Marla was surprised that Laird had heard and knew. She filled him in on the rest. But Laird stopped her when she came to the part of approaching Liam and Leon.

“Your reasoning was sound,” he said. “And the results are good. But you broke a promise. There will be a reckoning.”

“I understand,” she said gazing into the black of her coffee.

“No,” Laird said. “You don’t. But that’s another issue for another time. Right now we have more pressing matters. So. You have a plan to meet Jarris. Through him you want to meet a witch. You have a vehicle crammed with an assortment of weapons, money and drugs.”

“And jewelry,” Marla said. “Don’t forget the jewelry.”

“And jewels. Yes,” he mulled. “As a sidebar here, have you thought about what might happen if the police were to pull you over?”

“Bribe them,” she said. “Anyway I can.”

“I see,” he nodded. “Is your plan then to bribe a witch also?”

“I don’t know much about witches,” Marla said. “But judging from what Vanessa abandoned, I bet that they don’t care a lot about that stuff. I plan to bribe Jarris. He is, if nothing else a hedonist.”

“Okay then,” Laird said. “Assuming that you successfully bribe Jarris and he introduces you to a witch. What then?”

“Then,” Marla said with a sigh. “I have no idea.”

“The question then becomes; what do witches want?”

“That is a bad question,” Marla said. “It’s like asking what werewolves want. Or what do women or Hispanics or aliens want.”

“Brava,” Laird said. “So the question transforms; what will the witch that we meet want?”

“I don’t know.”

The two sipped their coffee.

As they neared Boston the traffic slowed, and soon crawled. Janet drove. Laird sat in the cargo area chatting with the Head. Marla stretched out on the back seat and napped. She felt grimy. She so wanted a shower. They snaked down Interstate Ninety-three through the heart of the city and into South Boston. Marla directed and they got off and onto Dorchester. There they found a cheap motel and the three crashed onto the musty bed.

The head sat in the back of the Chevy, still fascinated.

*****

Jarris Ward Montgomery had his home, offices and studios in an old school building on Cobden Street. Happily ensconced in his little city fortress, the pudgy little werewolf lived a quiet life amusing himself with fine food, interesting company, and a handful of slaves who would work his every whim. But his joy was his production studio. Carved from the old gymnasium, he had a live sound stage, two lesser studios, and a production room in the old score-keeping booth that rivaled any.

Every day, and twice on Sundays, his live show
I Believe
would swarm the cable networks. The public was fascinated with the occult, and talk-shows that had witches and warlocks, werewolves and vampires were everywhere. But his show had something else.

While all of the witch and werewolf wannabe’s tugged at heart strings and wept, he made it real. He would transform. He would find a way somewhere in the show to get angry. Maybe at a guest, maybe at a one of his slick commercials, maybe at something in politics, but in almost every show he would fall into his werewolf rage, begin to transform right there in the studio – and then the producers would have to cut away to a commercial.

The studio audience was always frightened, and they always told their friends of the horror that they had seen that poor man go through. And judging by the sales of his product lines, Jarris knew that his audience had many friends.

So it was that when the rag-tag bunch of troublemakers burst into his office brandishing shotguns, his first thought was who to fire in Security. Then he looked at the woman holding the barrel to his head.

“Marla?” he asked.

The woman batted her eyes.

“Marla, what the hell?”

“I need a witch,” she said.

“Marla? You couldn’t have called? Made an appointment or something?”

“There is no way,” she said. “That you would have ever answered my call. I needed to get your attention fast. Do I have your attention?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay then,” she said slinging the shotgun. “I need a witch. I have over seventy-thousand dollars.”

Marla could almost see his brain working. She had a sinking feeling when he sat back and smiled.

“No,” he said.

“I have at least that in diamonds,” Marla responded.

“No.”

“What do you want then? Guns? Drugs?”

“How about women?” Jarris asked. “Got any of those?”

“Look mother fucker,” Janet said pumping her weapon.

“No, you look,” he said. “Shoot me. I’m dead, and where are you. This place will be swarming with cops and then there’s going to be some fun. And you won’t even have a witch. And why the hell do you come barging here demanding one? What the hell do you need a witch for?”

“A witch has Jason,” Marla said. “She has your brother. I need your help.”

“Half-brother,” Jarris corrected. “And why would I care about that jackass?”

“Because he is your kin,” Marla said. “He is your kind, and that creature is using him to”

“No, let me guess,” Jarris said, pondering. “If a witch wanted a lover, you’d be angry and emotional, but not here and not so desperate. So that’s out. Now if she wanted a protector –um, no. That doesn’t make sense and Jason would never whore himself out like that – but wait! That’s it. He is whoring. He’s a breeder!”

“That witch kidnapped him,” Marla cried.

“I see,” Jarris said. “And she so charmed him and all the rest. What a delicious plot for my next film. Is anyone taking notes?”

“Jarris!”

“Marla!” he shouted back. “You have invaded my home with weapons. You try to bribe my cooperation with drugs and money, and your pretty friend here threatens to blow my head off! I do not like that. I don’t like that at all.”

Jarris snapped his fingers. Three women appeared in three corners of the room. They were dressed as Geisha Girls. They wore fine, shapeless silk robes with sashes, their dark hair done up in the shimada style. They stood silent, eyes intent.

“Oh boy,” Laird said softly.

“Yeah,” Jarris said with a grin. “Oh boy. You wanted a witch? I got three. Your buckshot will never leave your barrels; no matter how fast alien-boy can move. Now I’m gonna be gracious, for old time’s sake. I’ll give you to the count of three to get the hell out of here before I call the cops. One.”

“Jarris,” Marla pleaded, “don’t you understand? This is Jason I’m talking about. I have to help him!”

“Two.”

“Jarris I don’t know where else to turn. You have to help me! I’ll do anything!”

Jarris paused. He looked at her, cocked his head and the beginning of a grin appeared.

“Two and a half,” he said.

“What do you want?”

In reply he grinned broader.

“You’re kidding,” Marla said.

“And your friend,” he said. “Just for the hell of it.”

“Laird?”

“No,” Jarris laughed. “I’m nothing like my half-brother.”

He and Marla looked to Janet.

“Me?” she asked timidly.

“You do have such lovely breasts,” Jarris said.

“I – I can’t”

“Two and three-quarters,” Jarris said.

“Oh fuck.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Your cutie gives me what I want and you get to take home one of my slant-eyes sorceresses. My word of honor.”

Marla glared at him.

“Two and five-eighths. And what the hell, I’ll throw in dinner.”

“You’re a real bastard.”

“Thank you,” he said smiling. “Dinner will be formal.”