Psy: Alien Castaways (Intergalactic Dating Agency) Page 9

  Psy’s heart thudded against her breasts, steady and reassuring. Do you need me to take you home, or can you spend the night? His hope she’d stay wafted over her like a warm, loving caress.

  I want to stay. I’ll need to get home early enough to change clothes before work.

  I’ll set the alarm to ensure we wake up in time. He disengaged from their embrace, slid out of bed, and stalked naked to where he’d left his pants. Moonlight danced over his body, highlighting the contours, the play of muscles as he moved. Unabashed, she stared, male nudity still a novelty.

  He tapped into his phone. What time should I set the alarm?

  I start at nine thirty, so…seven thirty? She grimaced. I should text Mom that I’m not coming home so she doesn’t worry. This was akin to announcing, “Hey, Mom, I just had sex!” This was why she needed her own place. Would you grab my phone? It’s—

  At home on the counter. She’d stuck it in the charger while she showered and changed clothes prior to the date and had forgotten to grab it on her way out. I forgot my phone!

  Use mine. He crawled into bed and handed her the device.

  Her spending the night with a man would test her mother’s adjustment. Upon arrival in the morning, if her mother was in a snit, then she’d know. Hi, Mom, this is Cassie, she identified herself since the text would be coming from an unfamiliar number. I’m spending the night at Psy’s. I’ll be home in the morning before I go to work.

  She handed him the phone. Now, where were we? She scooted close and lifted her face for a kiss.

  Chapter Twelve

  Four days later

  A brass band pounded away inside her skull, causing every muscle to throb with the painful beat. Groaning, she dragged herself out of bed. If not for Verna depending on her, she would have called in sick, but her boss had a buying excursion planned and needed her to man the store. There was no one else. She was the “else.”

  A quick shower failed to perk her up, and afterward she collapsed on a bedroom chair. Putting on her shoes drained more energy than she had. Finally, she managed to get dressed and shuffle to the kitchen where her mother bustled about.

  “Good morn—are you all right?” Rosalie’s deep-violet eyes narrowed with concern.

  Tired, she scribbled.

  “Late night, huh?”

  Not so late. She’d gotten home at ten, a little earlier than usual, because she’d started to feel unwell. She’d cooked for Psy at the farmhouse but then had him bring her home.

  Rosalie pressed a hand to Cassie’s forehead. “You feel warm. Are you getting a fever?”

  Maybe. She penned the shortest possible answer. She felt hot. No doubt she was coming down with something.

  “Go to bed. Verna can manage without you.”

  Can’t. Verna won’t be in until late. Have to man the store. She sank into a chair at the dinette.

  “The store can open when she gets in. It’s not like anybody needs the junk she sells.”

  Cassie let the dig slide, in no condition to argue. If I don’t feel better, I’ll come home early.

  “You seeing Psy again tonight?” Rosalie asked in a neutral tone.

  She saw Psy every night. They’d become inseparable. She’d expected resistance, but so far, Rosalie had accepted her absence, a positive sign for which Cassie was exceedingly grateful.

  Not if I don’t feel better.

  “That’s a wise decision. I know you really like him, but you need to take care of yourself. I have a few minutes before I need to leave. Would you like me to make you some breakfast?”

  Ugh. Nothing sounded worse. Cassie shook her head. The movement drove spikes of pain into her skull.

  “Coffee?”

  She gave a slight nod, trying to move as little as possible.

  Her mother poured her a cup, adding a generous squirt of cream and sugar.

  It hurt to swallow, and the coffee tasted sour. Cassie made a face.

  “I fixed it the way you like it.” Her mother sounded offended.

  Coffee is fine. She’d had the strange sour taste in her mouth since she’d awakened. Even brushing her teeth hadn’t helped.

  Like a mother hen, Rosalie bustled around, offering her food, more coffee, advice. Just when Cassie thought she would scream, her mother checked the time and rushed out. Leaving her cup on the kitchen table, Cassie stumbled into the living room to rest for a few minutes before beginning the trek. The store was only three blocks away, but the short distance could have been five hundred miles. In hindsight, she realized she should have asked her mother for a lift. She could have relaxed on one of the antique chaise lounges at the store.

  She stretched out on the sofa. She’d close her eyes just for a minute…

  A chirping text woke her up.

  She pulled her aching body to a seated position and grabbed the phone. Oh no! She’d slept almost ninety minutes, and she was an hour late for work! Verna would be chomping at the bit.

  Sure enough, the text was from her. Did something happen? Where are you?

  I’m so sorry. I’m not feeling well, and I fell asleep. I’ll be there in 10 minutes.

  What’s wrong?

  Tired. Achy. Sore throat.

  Stay home.

  I’ll be OK. You have to go to the auction.

  I can skip this one.

  I hate leaving you in the lurch.

  You’re more important than an antique armoire or wooden rolling pins. Besides, if you’re contagious, you shouldn’t spread it to the customers.

  She was right, and Cassie just wanted to sleep. OK. Thanks.

  Where’s Rosalie?

  Went to work. She tried to get me to stay home.

  For once we’re in agreement. Can I bring you anything? Something to eat?

  No, thank you. I’m going to bed.

  Ok. Take care. Let me know how you feel tomorrow.

  I will.

  Cassie collapsed on the sofa again. She hoped she’d feel better by the evening when she was supposed to see Psy. Maybe after a day’s rest, she’d feel more like herself. She’d go to bed in a minute…

  The buzzing doorbell awakened her. Her neck felt stiff; she must have slept at an odd angle.

  Buzz.

  Go away, she thought. I don’t want to buy anything. I’m not interested in going to your church. I’m going to die a heathen. Maybe even today.

  Knocking. Pounding—which did nothing for her head. “Cassie! It’s me, Verna! Are you okay?” her boss yelled.

  She staggered to the door.

  “I got worried and wanted to see you for myself,” Verna said upon entering the house.

  Store? she jotted.

  “I taped a be-right-back sign to the front door.” She surveyed her with a hawkeyed gaze. “It’s just what I feared. Honey, you have the mumps.”

  Cassie shook her head.

  “Your jaw is swollen. You’re fatigued. You have muscle aches. All the right symptoms—and you were exposed by your alien hottie.”

  Cassie widened her eyes and fingered her tender jaw. It couldn’t be possible, could it? She’d had the vaccination! Verna followed as she made a beeline for the bathroom off the hall. She didn’t look as bad as Psy had, but she resembled a lopsided chipmunk. It hadn’t been so bad when she’d first gotten up, but the right side of her face was definitely swollen now.

  What do I do?

  “Wait it out. Get some rest and take painkillers.”

  How long?

  “How long will it take to get well?” Verna wrinkled her nose. “I think it takes a couple of weeks to run its course.”

  A couple of weeks? Feeling like this? What about the store? And Psy. She wouldn’t be able to see Psy! Verna had been so nice to check on her, and now she’d been exposed. And her mother, too!

  Cassie popped a couple of aspirin, and bent and drank straight from the faucet. She and Verna returned to the living room. You’ve been exposed now. I’m so sorry.

  “I was inoculated.”

  So
was I.

  “Vaccines are a great defense, but they’re not 100 percent effective. I was exposed the same time you were, so if I was going to get it, I’d have it, too.”

  That relieved some of her guilt.

  After urging her to rest, forbidding her to set foot in the store until she was well, and promising to check on her, Verna left. Feeling dejected in addition to ill, Cassie texted Psy.

  I have to cancel our date. I caught the mumps.

  I’ll be over as soon as I can.

  You don’t have to. There’s nothing you can do.

  Are you saying, don’t come?

  No. She felt like crap and looked even worse, but she very much wanted to see him.

  I’ll be there soon.

  While she waited, she googled the mumps. Medical sites confirmed “Dr. Verna’s” diagnosis and treatment options. She had to wait for the virus to run its course.

  Ten minutes later, Psy arrived. She melted into his embrace. Their minds merged so effortlessly and completely, it seemed almost automatic, as if they couldn’t remain apart if they’d wanted to. I’m so sorry you caught this from me, he said.

  It’s not your fault. You didn’t know you were sick.

  They moved to the sofa, and Cassie curled up next to him. His presence didn’t relieve the physical symptoms, but it was comforting to have him near. The way he’d rushed over made her feel warm inside. Of course, that could be the fever, she thought with humor. Verna had checked on her, too. She was lucky to have both of them in her life.

  The hover scooter is outside. I can take you to a doctor.

  Won’t do any good. There’s no cure. I have to wait for my body to fight it off.

  Your medical science can’t do anything? His telepathic reply sounded almost horrified.

  I’ll be fine in a couple of weeks. She closed her eyes and slumped against him, exhaustion like a lead blanket. Now that she knew her salivary glands were swollen, the tenderness in her jaw had seemed to worsen. She was in the early stage of the disease. The next two weeks were not going to be fun.

  Psy stroked her hand, toying with her fingers. She felt the tension in his body, although she couldn’t read the reason for it. What’s wrong?

  The med pod might be able to cure you. It might eradicate the virus, eliminate the inflammation, and you’d feel better almost immediately.

  Would if she could. As sick as she felt, she was willing to try almost anything to get better. Except that. A wave of nausea swept over her just contemplating climbing into the pod. I’d freak.

  Even if I was there with you? If I got in the pod with you?

  What if you got in the pod instead of me? Would it work by proxy? she joked.

  I could help you tolerate it by implanting suggestions to help calm you.

  You can do that?

  With your permission—yes.

  Did you do that now to get me to consider it? Because, she was considering it. She squinted through a pounding headache. Every single muscle ached. Her mouth tasted funny. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this bad. And for it to drag on for two weeks?

  No. First, I would never do anything without your permission, and second, it would violate the Verital Code of Honor.

  She didn’t think he had. Not because she couldn’t tell the difference but because she trusted him. If she got to the farmhouse, and the pod still frightened her too much, she could back out. No harm done. She swallowed, her throat raw. The way she felt now, she was willing to try anything. Maybe…maybe we could try.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Too weak to throw her leg over the seat, she sat sidesaddle on the hover scooter, and Psy got on behind her. Thank goodness she’d agreed to try the med pod. The extent of her illness had alarmed him. He could feel the virus marching through her body. She was sicker than she knew—far more ill than he had been. He’d blocked the full depth of his concern from her to avoid scaring her.

  It had stunned him that Earth’s medical science had no cure. And apparently its vaccines were worthless, too. What kind of primitive, backwater planet was this?

  Weary to the bone, she slumped against him.

  He activated the refractor shield to render them invisible and then plotted the coordinates for the shortest, fastest route to the farmhouse.

  Five minutes later, the hover scooter set down in the driveway.

  “We’re here,” he said aloud to rouse her. She’d fallen asleep.

  Already? She blinked.

  “Let me help you inside.”

  He dismounted and started to scoop her up in his arms, but she pulled away. I’m not an invalid. I’ll walk in, or I won’t go at all.

  Her body might be weary, but her spirit was feisty.

  Can I hold your hand? He intended to stay close to catch her if she fell.

  Hand-holding is acceptable.

  He laced their fingers. If it’s okay with you, I’ll begin with some suggestions to help calm you.

  Okay…

  As he slipped deeper into her psyche, the ferocity of her illness became more apparent—as did her nervousness about the pod. Her claustrophobia was no small issue. Gently, he pushed a suggestion into her mind. Breathe slowly. Deep breath in, deep breath out. In. Out.

  He waited until her chest rose and fell before taking it to the next level. With every breath you take, calm pervades. There is no fear, only calm. Deep breath in, deep breath out. With every breath, calm pervades.

  You are not afraid because you are in complete control. I am with you, holding your hand, and if you feel anxious, you will squeeze my hand and take a deep breath, and calm will pervade. You are unafraid because you are in complete control. Squeeze my hand now and feel the calm.

  She tightened and released her grip.

  The med pod will not frighten you because you have control, and you need only take a deep breath and squeeze my hand, and calm will return.

  They marched up the wide steps to the porch and into the house.

  A vapor cloud floated into the living room from the kitchen and coalesced into a shape of a man.

  Cassie widened her eyes. Is that a ghost?

  This is Shadow. He’s a Vaporian.

  Watching his friend struggle to assume a solid form pained him. Shadow didn’t have much time left—he was losing control of his body. He wished he could help, but there was no suggestion he could implant that could override the genetic time bomb. Shadow had to find a genmate soon, or the involuntary sublimation episodes would continue to increase in frequency, with deposition becoming harder and harder to achieve, until he evaporated into nothingness. He was the tallest and most muscular of the castaways. It seemed impossible someone so stout could fade into oblivion.

  Shadow finally pulled himself together. “I’m thrilled to finally meet you!” His robust voice and wide smile masked his despair.

  Everyone in the house knows you can’t speak, Psy told her. Do you want to write a response, or should I answer him for you?

  I left my notebook at the house. Tell him it’s a pleasure to meet him.

  “She says it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said. “We came to use the med pod.” He twisted his mouth. “I gave her the mumps.”

  “You’re so generous,” Shadow quipped. He, and everyone else in the house, had been scanned and treated. “Do you need assistance with the machine?”

  “Sure. That would be great.”

  In the dining room, Cassie approached the med pod cautiously. Her chest rose and fell as she acted on his suggestion to take deep breaths. The med pod doesn’t seem so scary anymore, she said. Your mental powers must be pretty powerful. You don’t need to get in the pod with me. I’ll be fine.

  He admired her bravado, but she wasn’t in the pod yet. He’d implanted light suggestions to ease her over the hurdle, but her claustrophobia was by no means eliminated. It’s better if I’m with you. If you start to feel anxious, squeeze my hand.

  He said to Shadow, “She gets claustrophobic. If I signal you, open t
he hatch.”

  “Got it,” Shadow said.

  Psy touched Cassie’s shoulder. “Did you ever hear from your doctor about the referral for your voice?” Since Shadow was present, he spoke aloud so his friend would understand what was happening.

  No, and I’m surprised because she said it wouldn’t take long. I should text them and follow up.

  “I must remind you the pod hasn’t been used on a human. It won’t harm you, but it’s possible the program is incompatible with your DNA.”

  No guarantees. I understand.

  “But if it does work, the unit will run a full physical diagnostic and treat anything anomalous.” He hesitated, unsure how she would react to the other news. Would she think he’d tricked her? That hadn’t been his intention.

  “If your vocal cords can be repaired, the med pod will fix them.”

  A barrage of emotion raced through her, longing, elation, fear, self-disgust. You mean the solution was here all along? That’s what you tried to tell me when I blew up at you, isn’t it?

  Yes. I believe the med pod might fix your voice. There’s also the possibility nothing may change. It may not even cure your mumps. He didn’t want to over promise.

  Now that the moment of truth had arrived, he was nervous. Despite her seeming aplomb, if the scan didn’t work, she would be devastated. He would hate himself for raising and then dashing her hopes. He wished now they’d tested the med pod on another sick human beforehand. Not that they knew any other sick humans.

  Dark circles of fatigue ringed her eyes. Mumps had caused the whole side of her face to swell. She didn’t have the ability to erect protective mental barriers, so, through their mind link, he experienced everything she did. Her pain, her fatigue. This would be all or nothing. The med pod would cure the mumps and fix her voice—or she’d emerge still infected and still unable to speak.

  Right now, she was about to drop from exhaustion.

  Let’s do this, she said.

  He got in first then Shadow assisted Cassie into the pod, and they lay side by side, her hand clasped in his. “Okay, close the lid,” he instructed Shadow.

  His friend flashed a thumbs-up. “Good luck!”

  The clear panel rolled from the foot toward their heads. As it reached their chests, he sensed a skitter of nerves rippling through her. Breathe…he reminded her. The lid slid over their heads and sealed them in.