Guardian Alien: a sci-fi alien romance (OtherWorldly Men Book 1) Page 2

  “Grandpa?”

  “I’m fine. It’s just my goddamn ticker—my Achilles heel. What are you doing out here all alone?”

  “But I wasn’t—” She stopped herself.

  His bushy white brows lowered. “Jana? Tell me the truth. Were you with someone? Who is it?”

  “He’s from the stars,” she whispered.

  His face hardened. Then, as if her explanation had finally caught up to him, he breathed, “Ah.” His frown melted. “The stars, is it?”

  He doesn’t believe me.

  A leaf dangled from her bangs as she bowed her head. He removed it tenderly. “Your imagination is a wonderful thing, but for now on you have to consider the consequences of your actions. With your parents away, it’s my responsibility to keep you safe. I didn’t know you were out playing make-believe. I thought you were missing and that maybe someone had hurt you. Your grandpa would not have been able to live with himself if that happened.”

  “Sorry,” she whispered and burrowed into his arms for a hug. He felt big and soft and warm. She loved him so much. But his heart pounded—too fast, too hard. My fault.

  He moved her back to see her. “When your parents come home, I won’t tattle on you. In return, I want your promise. No more going outside without letting me know where you’ll be.”

  The new rules put Cavin in danger and meant they’d see each other less. The ache to disobey her grandfather was strong, but the desire to not worry him was stronger. It about killed her, but she nodded.

  Back at the house, he tucked her in bed and gave her a scratchy kiss on the cheek. “Ah, punkin. You have more heart and capacity to dream than all of us Jaspers combined. Dreaming big is what this country needs. And the heart and smarts to turn those dreams into reality. If you can balance both, you will go far. Mind this old man’s words. The highest office of this country is not beyond your abilities. A Jasper in the White House. Now, that sounds mighty appealing. I’ll be sure to take my vitamins so I can be around long enough to see your inauguration.” His blue eyes sparkled. “President Jana Jasper. All hail the chief.”

  More than anyone, Grandpa believed in her. She’d make him proud—all the Jaspers. Someday, she’d stop being the Jasper who caused them to worry all the time, who preferred a fantasy world over the real world, who didn’t stop to consider the consequences of her actions.

  Someday, she would be the Jasper with the most to say...

  Fleeing the angry elder, Cavin dove through the hatch and into the familiar surroundings of his ship that floated above the forest floor, invisible. Excitement pulsed through him as he stood in the decontamination shower to wash off his soiled bio-suit. He’d traveled to countless worlds with his researcher father, but never one like this. Never one with anyone like her.

  Jana. The incredible alien girl.

  It had been a near miss with the white-haired elder, Jana’s grandfather, but it had been worth the risk. His lips still tingled from the kiss. He’d never kissed anyone before. If not for being interrupted by the elder, he’d have done it again.

  “Your vital signs are elevated,” Father said, frowning from his worktable as Cavin emerged from the decontamination compartment. Scattered over the table were bio-spheres of various sizes containing live animals or plants—samples he’d collected since their landing. “Pulse high. Respiration rapid. You’ve been gone for extended periods lately, and it concerns me. There is a humanoid settlement in the area, and you mustn’t go near it. You know the rules.”

  “Yes, sir.” Deep inside his breast pocket was the keepsake Jana had just given him. Father must never find out about it.

  He took a seat at the opposite end of the table from his father. Crocks of hot food—Nutri-paks heated in the Re-Gen—sat next to research gear and a data-vis filled with notes. No frills, no softness, as there had been when Cavin’s mother was alive. The ship’s original name was Malamay, her name. After she died, his father covered the letters with a coat of paint. Painting her out of their lives.

  But Jana’s family—they were different. They weren’t afraid to show love.

  His father pulled a bio-sphere off the shelf. A gray creature with a fluffy tail trapped inside pawed at the peri-glass, its eyes bulging.

  What was the name Jana had taught him in her language? Squirrel. Such an odd-sounding word. He could still hear Jana’s peals of laughter when he struggled to pronounce it. Much of their time together revolved around observing local creatures, protecting them, and sometimes rescuing them. Not trapping them in bio-spheres and taking them light-years away.

  “Our ship is cloaked, but they could follow you here,” Father continued. “I won’t allow you to put this mission at risk. The first exploratory mission to this world crashed—many years ago. Long before either of us were born. The scout vessel and its pilot were never recovered and probably perished. Who knows how the indigenous inhabitants would react if they discovered our presence? A moment of carelessness could put this entire mission in jeopardy. Cavin? Are you listening?”

  “Yes, sir.” Cavin ladled a lumpy mix of protein chunks, sauce, and vegetables into a bowl and wolfed it down. His father continued to study him with gray-green eyes, the same color as his. Cavin offered a tentative smile. His father had given him his full attention. A rare thing.

  “Something about you has changed, son.”

  Something had changed. For the first time, he had a real friend.

  And he’d just kissed her.

  His father’s observant eyes narrowed. Cavin drove his gaze down to his bowl of stew to avoid giving anything away.

  “I’m confining you to the ship. We’re leaving tomorrow.”

  Shock burst inside him. He felt as trapped as the squirrel in the bio-sphere. His father had threatened to confine him to the ship before but never followed through. Probably because his father liked him to be out from underfoot most of the time. Well, as soon as he was old enough, he’d enlist in the Coalition Space Force and be out of his father’s way for good.

  But the man sounded serious this time.

  Cavin kept his head low. An impulsive thought: He’d invite Jana to come with them.

  Just as swiftly, he pushed the repulsive idea from his mind, hating himself for even considering it. When he saw how affectionate the members of her family were with each other, a warm feeling always filled his chest, chased by a hunger to know such a sense of belonging. It left him acutely aware of the empty place inside him that Jana had come to fill. She wouldn’t want to leave her home.

  What if he stayed here? He’d run away and hide with Jana’s family. They’d raise him as their own.

  The plan was just as impossible as the first. If he went missing, Father would summon a search party. Soldiers would come.

  Soldiers would probably come no matter what.

  Cavin frowned at his food. “What are they going to do to this world?”

  “Those decisions are for people well above my pay grade, son. I’m a scientist. I submit recommendations on whether we should classify a planet as fit for acquisition by the government, that’s all.”

  “And this one? Is it fit?”

  “Oh, yes. It’s perfectly habitable as is. Nothing more needs to be done to this planet—outside of potentially relocating most of the native population.”

  His stomach sank. “When?”

  “It may be many years before headquarters acts on my report—or it could happen soon. Or not at all. It depends on the needs of the Coalition.” Typing on his data-vis, he moved on to the next subject. “These wildlife samples will be very useful. They’ll help us improve less suitable worlds.”

  “If we don’t ask permission, it’s not an acquisition. It’s an invasion.”

  His father lifted a brow at him before he shook his head and injected white gas into the bio-sphere. The squirrel tipped over, its twitching tail going still. Next, he filled the sphere with bright blue liquid. Bio-stasis had solved the problem of feeding the samples during long voyages. “W
e’re protectors, son. Defenders, not invaders. If you want to see evil motives, look no further than our enemy, the Drakken Empire. They’re determined to annihilate us by any means necessary. Millions upon millions have been slaughtered by the warlord’s forces, many by methods too horrific to mention at this table. Not even the royal family has been safe from harm. If we don’t establish control of far-flung worlds like this one and keep expanding our territory, the Empire could very well win this war. Then what will become of the people here—and of us all, eh? Sometimes it’s necessary to act with the greater good in mind.”

  Cavin clenched his teeth. No matter what his father said, the takeover of the world Jana called Earth wasn’t right. If the government forced her from her home someday, he’d keep her safe. He would protect her—no matter what it took.

  Chapter Two

  Present Day

  Holding a mug of coffee, State Senator Jana Jasper sat across the breakfast table from her grandfather as she did every Tuesday morning. Wheelchair bound and in his nineties, Grandpa was as sharp as ever. As a former U.S. senator and a two-term governor, he was the best mentor around—nothing beat getting advice on politics from someone who’d been in the game for the better part of a century.

  Foggy daylight filtered through the French doors. Fruit, scrambled eggs, and toast were set out on antique china that had been in the family since the 1800s.

  “Jana, your personal life and your political future are intertwined.” Grandpa crossed two thick fingers and shook them at her. “You’ll have to commit to someone eventually or risk being seen as a person who can’t commit to anything at all.”

  “Grandpa, do you realize how sexist that sounds?”

  “Since when is advising my granddaughter to settle down sexist?”

  “I never hear you tell Jared that he needs to settle down.”

  “Your brother isn’t an elected official. Picking the right mate will increase your odds of winning the White House.”

  She smiled at her eggs. Nothing had convinced him she wouldn’t be the president someday. After a rough start, she’d made up for lost time—more accurately, lost words. She’d talked her way through Stanford, a Rhodes scholarship to Cambridge University in England. Then a landslide victory that saw her take office as one of the youngest state senators in California history, and the first female Jasper to hold public office. Much was said about how her chatty ways helped forge a genuine connection with her constituents. Too bad just as much was said about her social life.

  Even Grandpa was guilty of it. It didn’t help that she’d just appeared on HuffPost’s Top 10 Most Eligible Bachelorettes list—at number seven—and her grandfather was rubbing salt in the wound. Like the article was her fault. Like she was some sort of flighty playgirl. She wasn’t. She was an awkward nerd on the inside. But click-bait features like the Huff piece perpetuated the myth.

  “My social life is nowhere near as interesting as people think.” In thirty-two years and counting, only one brief engagement attested to her ability to sustain a relationship—and it had just ended in a disastrous fashion. What could she say? She’d gotten cold feet.

  Again.

  “Let’s go back to arguing about my alleged wildlife activism,” she suggested, but he wasn’t having it.

  “Use your stubbornness, punkin. That relentless drive. Focus on the kind of life partner you want and go for it. Don’t consider anyone who doesn’t fit your specifications, and you won’t be left with doubts. Make a wise choice.”

  Choose wisely, young grasshopper. Except, she’d chosen Brace Bowie, developer, businessman, and now ex-fiancé, thinking his credentials would satisfy the family and his charisma would satisfy her. Their breakup was complicated by the fact that Brace had sunk a lot of money into her cousin Viktor’s caviar bar. She’d sensed he’d wanted to pull out of the investment but felt awkward doing so. A week after they broke up, Brace was called in for questioning regarding the bust-up of a black-market sturgeon fishing ring. A suspect arraigned on poaching charges had pointed a finger at Viktor and his partners. They’d all come out clean, but the negative publicity had hurt Brace’s business.

  No one, including Jana, could convince him she wasn’t behind the investigation. He’d come back slinging mud at a flashy press conference, accusing her of pouring millions of taxpayer dollars into building her own empire, with an army of Department of Fish and Game “enforcer-commandos” to “strong-arm” her policies. The idea would’ve been hilarious if he wasn’t so serious about it. He seemed determined to make sure she lost her senate seat in the next election cycle. He’d blanketed social media with innuendo, sowing doubt. For ten nightmarish weeks there were huge signs on his project sites downtown calling her legislative motives into question with slogans like: Spend-Happy Tree-hugger Jana Jasper Wastes YOUR Tax Dollars! Vote Her Out!

  Tree hugger? Please. Brace had acted like a fucking jerk. Why hadn’t she seen it coming? She didn’t trust her instincts anymore when it came to choosing men. It was why she’d removed herself from the dating pool and placed herself on an extended hiatus.

  She drained her coffee and gazed at the grinds left on the bottom of the cup. They formed a little heart. Oh, for goodness sake. She shook the cup, scattering the grinds. “I want what you and Grandma had. And what Mama and Dad have. I won’t settle for less. No matter how it may look to others. In the meantime, I’ll focus on being the best damn senator in the California legislature.”

  “You goddamn are!” Then he sighed, long and deep. “You’re right not to settle for second best, punkin, but don’t pine for what never existed in the first place.”

  Like Cavin, her imaginary childhood friend-from-the-stars? Her interstellar Peter Pan? Sometimes her grandfather’s insight sliced deep. She frowned at the coffee grounds strewn across the bottom of her cup. “Maybe I have wasted too much time looking for magic.”

  “Magic?” One fluffy white brow arched.

  The kind of magic she could feel in a first look, that she could taste in the first kiss. That she had tasted in her first kiss . . . one summer evening long ago.

  Her phone vibrated and made her jump. Messages from the office were stacking up. “I’ve got to go. I’ve got a committee meeting at ten, then lunch at a fish farm.”

  Unsettled somewhat by the conversation, she picked up her laptop bag, smoothing a hand over the skirt of her suit. “Love you, Grandpa.” She kissed his cheek before leaving him to his news and coffee in the sprawling old ranch house that had framed their childhoods, generations apart.

  Jana felt more prey than politician as she stood on a narrow footbridge over seething tanks of already-huge teenage sturgeon. A fish burst half out of the water, its white mouth wide-open as it aimed for her feet.

  Jana sidestepped away, and it dropped back into the pool. Ice-cold water sliced across her shins. I’m on your side, girls. Your side. Protecting California’s wildlife had been a priority since she’d taken office. Protecting those without a voice. She knew what it was like to not be able to speak up.

  She turned to her communications director. “I read that they can’t see very well and they find their food by sense of smell. I don’t know, though, their eyesight seems fine to me.” Dozens of the fish clustered at the edge of their tank, blowing rubber-lipped kisses. “I’m afraid if we refuse their advances, they’ll settle for eating us alive.”

  “Us? They want you.”

  “True.” She’d been on the footbridge with Steve and the owners of the fish farm for all of five minutes, and she was the only one who was wet. Rivulets of water ran down her calves and into her shoes. She wiggled her toes. “It could be the nail polish.” Obviously, canvas open-toed heels with raffia bows had been the wrong fashion choice. Who knew that coral-colored toenails would be a siren’s call for five thousand hormone-driven fish?

  “Senator Jasper.” A woman that Jana recognized as one of the fish farm employees walked toward her, holding the hand of a young girl. The child’s eyes were train
ed on the ground, her lower lip sucked under her front teeth.

  “My daughter would love to meet you.” The woman tugged on the girl’s hand. “Tell her, Chelsea. Go on. Say hello.”

  Chelsea blushed mutely.

  Jana’s heart squeezed. Her shyness and social anxiety as a child had been crippling. But in her private world of make-believe, there had been animals to talk to and even a magical boy. She kneeled. “How old are you, honey?”

  “Nine,” she replied softly.

  Jana would never forget being nine. Nine was the summer of Cavin. She may have been on the older side to have an imaginary friend, but he had appeared at the exact moment she needed him. She’d spied him sneaking around on her family’s property one day. Setting out candy and small toys, she lured him closer and closer to her treehouse like a shy animal. Then one day, he’d stayed.

  They’d been inseparable. Until they weren’t. As unexpectedly as he’d entered her life, he vanished. No goodbye. Just one day he wasn’t there.

  Once, a therapist had explained it was because her subconscious mind understood that she didn’t need him anymore. She’d lost him, but she eventually found her voice. Cavin had helped her self-confidence like training wheels to a bike. Without him, she’d been wobbly at first, but then she quickly learned to pedal on her own.

  She’d done a lot of speaking and writing over the years about extreme shyness and the role of imaginary playmates in building self-esteem and self-confidence. Grandpa had reservations about her revealing so many personal stories, but she hadn’t given up everything. No, some secrets remained.

  “Do you have a special friend like I did?” Jana asked the girl.

  Chelsea whispered, “He’s gray and fluffy. Like a bunny. His name is Max, but he doesn’t eat carrots. He likes ice cream.” She bit her lip.