Zenith, p.1
Zenith, page 1
Table of Contents
Zenith
Author's Note
For Mom
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
About the Author
Romancing the Alien
Thank You!
ZENITH
BEAST BATTALION
BIG SKY ALIEN BRIDES
INTERGALACTIC DATING AGENCY
Elsa Jade
WEBSITE | NEW RELEASE ALERT
She’s never been on her own.
Her whole life, Callie was pampered, protected—and imprisoned. Then she lost it all. How can she survive on her own in such a dangerous universe? She needs someone to save her. Luckily, she knows just the one she wants—if she can figure out how to catch him.
He never wanted to be a bodyguard.
Born to serve in a beast battalion, for Zenith, getting banished was an unexpected dream come true. Now he’s free to fly the wilds of Montana, Earth, answering to no one in the universe—if he can avoid a certain needy female with a knack for rubbing him the wrong way…and the right one.
The new Big Sky Intergalactic Dating Agency is ready to launch!
But not everyone believes in the promise of matchmating true love, and Zenith and Callie have only one chance to decide if her fear and his freedom matter more than a forever together.
Read all the BEAST BATTALION
CROSS
SOL
ZENITH
New to the Big Sky Alien Mail Order Brides? Start with ALPHA STAR for free!
And find all the Intergalactic Dating Agency books at RomancingTheAlien.com
Copyright © 2021 by Elsa Jade
Cover design by Croco Designs
ISBN 978-1-941547-43-4
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as factual. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be scanned, reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
This book was a year late being published. As if being in the midst of a damnpanic wasn’t excuse enough, my mother was diagnosed with amyotrophic lateral sclerosis. She kept asking me when I would give her this story, but I struggled with finishing it. Though I had left Zenith and Callie in a battle for their lives, I just couldn’t get back to them, not when my mom was fighting in real life. But ALS, also known as Lou Gehrig's disease, has few treatments and no cure. She died a year later.
My mom always encouraged my writing. Although she did edit my first tween attempt at a cowboy romance to be “soulmates” instead of lovers! :) Being a writer gave me the freedom to spend precious time with her, and fortunately I have a lot of awesome author friends in the Intergalactic Dating Agency and throughout Romancelandia who had wonderful books coming out that I could recommend to Mom—and that got me through my struggles too.
Stories matter so much, especially stories of hope and love and connection, and I hope Zenith and Callie’s story is a welcome respite in your day—if a year late! Thank you for reading.
<3 EJ
FOR MOM
Thank you for reading me The Lord of the Rings when I was young, and thank you for accidentally letting me read A Rose in Winter when I was still too young. :) Thank you for taking us to Anderson’s Bookshop pretty much whenever we wanted. And when it was my turn to tell stories, thank you for finding so, so many typos!
Thank you for being my first and last and best reader. Thank you for being my mom. I’ll miss you forever. If there are any typos in this, please send me a sign. Love you, Mom.
Chapter 1
Zenith fed the cat, reset the old cabin’s high-tech security system, stripped naked, and launched into the cold, dark sky.
When he’d been assigned to the night shift, he hadn’t minded. He liked the quiet and the silver glitter of distant stars. Most of all, he liked the freedom to fly.
It was a gamble, taking wing on this small, closed world that hadn’t yet been awakened to the existence of shapeshifting aliens walking secretly among them. But he wasn’t large like Cross or on fire like Sol, so he’d taken the risk. And if he was exiled again, so be it. He’d be denied his chance at matchmating, but he’d never sought a mate anyway.
Dark, quiet, free. That was all he wanted.
Also, he wasn’t walking secretly among the Earthers, so—
With three powerful wingbeats, he cleared the tall, pointed trees that ringed the cabin and arrowed toward the lake to begin his watch.
Since their employer had been kidnapped—either to be reported to the planetary authorities who enforced closed-world protocols, or perhaps for some more lethal reason—Cross had increased their patrols. Though Sol had rescued Evens, their adversary had escaped. In response, Cross had asked to bring on more security, adding at least a few on-the-ground crewmates to their diminished battalion. But Evens had denied the request.
“The Intergalactic Dating Agency is about hope, connection, and love,” he’d explained. “No one will believe that if we have too many armed guards.”
“No one will believe it if the IDA ceases to exist before it reopens because it’s destroyed by your ex-partner,” Cross had said through gritted teeth.
Evens only sighed. “Farah is angry with me,” he acknowledged. “But it was her new associate who’s the real trouble.” He grimaced and grabbed his cane which he still needed in the aftermath of the improperly rushed cryo-stasis preparation he’d endured. “If you find that Ransey fellow, feel free to eject him into the deepest nethers of space… Without a ship.”
So Zenith continued his lonely, random patrols, circling from the lake to the IDA outpost hidden deep in the forest, then over to the town and a few other vantage points, never crossing the same path twice in hopes of finding their enemy—or at least foiling any further plots against the reopening.
Remodeling at the outpost was nearly complete, and the party was scheduled, with various spirits sampled and pastries prepared in anticipation of the grand relaunch. As this pinpoint on the planet’s surface tilted far away from its star on its annual solar journey and the night sky spread in all its glory, the Big Sky Intergalactic Dating Agency would be open for business.
Not that it mattered to Zenith.
With the cold wind ruffling through his feathers, he spun an erratic pattern over the cluster of buildings that housed the IDA. The bright construction lamps were shielded from above to prevent light pollution and to hide them from local technology. Sol had been working overtime as well to lock down the physical site security while his new mate, Brin, was deftly spinning stories of plausible deniability in case their existence was suspected. No one would find the Big Sky IDA except those invited to the party.
Zenith checked the datpad strapped above his talons, but he called on the beast’s senses too. Technology could be fooled, scans and sensors lied to, but his beast had never failed him.
Finding nothing amiss, he angled his flight toward town. On some patrols, he kept to the shelter of the trees, but tonight he paralleled the rough track that meandered through the woods. His kitty would be hungry again soon… Ah, there. An unfortunate ungulate had run afoul of some local ground vehicle, but its remains wouldn’t go to waste. Marking the location in his memory, he continued on.
The town of Sunset Falls, Montana, Earth, was relatively primitive even by local standards. Partly that was the fault of the peculiar mineral composition of the local geology, exploited by the original purveyors of the IDA to hide their extraterrestrial presence. That isolation and a certain bemused acceptance among the populace of otherwise unexplained phenomena had made the area a perfect fit for the IDA. As his crew had discovered after the lackadaisical response to Evens’ abduction, even the closed-world authorities assigned to Earth tended to look the other way when there seemed to be so little at stake here.
None of which stopped him from doing his job or his beast from enjoying its freedom.
He swooped and soared over the sleeping streets, making note of the lights that were still on. Only a few prowling felines (which should be safely indoors, like his kitty) and the nocturnal birds of prey were aware of his passage. Unnoticed by other eyes, he circled unseen.
He wheeled over the two-story abode just off Main Street where Sol and Brin had made their home together, and then angled another circuit over the smaller outskirt cottage near the encroaching forest where Cross and Tyler stayed. When he hovered briefly, his datpad vibrated, the updates letting him know that both locations were secure and all was well.
Intending one last pass over the shop—the center of Evens’ operations—before widening his spiral to the surrounding forest, he aimed a straight line above the alley behind the shops. Not much to see, some stacks of neatly bundled reclaimable materials waiting to be reused, a broom someone had forgotten…and a glimmer of light, out of
He dropped from the sky.
***
After coming so far and losing so much, she was going to freeze to death here in this filthy gutter in the middle of nowhere.
Callie wanted to cry but she’d run out of water some time ago, and although she hadn’t yet stooped to licking the frosty rocks, that was probably the next step.
A cold droplet plinked on the back of her hand. Oh how lovely. It seemed she did have enough water left in her after all. Furious with herself, she dashed the tears leaking down her face. Self-pity had gotten her as far as self-importance, which was to say exactly this far, to this place, and no farther. She couldn’t give up now.
Or maybe she should, since giving up was all she had left to give.
Shivering, she huddled in the scant shelter of the shallow doorway. Cold precipitation, not quite rain, not quite snow, filtered down from the black sky, but at least it could only get half of her. The supposed friends from her old life would snicker to see her fallen so low when she’d once had the world at her feet.
If only it had been a world she wanted.
Fury sent a surge of welcome energy through her, and she jolted to her feet to fling herself at the door again. She’d fought so hard and sacrificed everything to slip through the doors that had locked her away before, and now she was desperate to get back inside.
Oh, the absurdity was worse than the stink around her.
With a growl that tore up the swollen tissues of her throat, she punched the lock.
And cried out at the pain that bit into her knuckles—a rebuke for revealing her feelings so vulgarly.
She started to sink back to the cracked pavement when a voice behind her said, “What do you want?”
With another shriek, even more ragged this time, she whirled around, stiffening her spine against the door that wouldn’t let her in.
He was shorter than her, his body obscured by a flared cloak that covered him to the ground, its matte black surface making him seem like one of the shadows come to life. The hood was thrown back, revealing dark hair banded with streaks of silver and gold, and his equally metallic glare pinned her in place like a dagger at her throat.
She tried to swallow but couldn’t.
He was here, she’d found him at last.
“Found you,” she whispered hoarsely. Relief made her start to sag toward him.
He took a step back. “Who are you? Why are you here?”
But he… He didn’t know her? He hadn’t been waiting and wondering and wishing just as she had?
Indignant fury rose up to flood the cold emptiness within her. She lifted her chin as high as it would go, the better to glare down at him. “I am…”
But if she’d learned anything from her recent experiences, it was that self-importance and self-pity would not serve her as well as self-preservation.
She swallowed again, choking on the provocation. “I am here to sign up with the Intergalactic Dating Agency.”
His gaze didn’t waver. “This is not where you do that.”
Pursuing her lips, she had to look away first. “The front door was locked.”
“So is this one,” he noted.
She slid an irate glance back at him. “Yes, I got that.”
Finally his focus shifted, down to her hand clenched against her throat. “You hurt yourself.”
He had no idea. “It’s nothing.” Maybe once she would’ve fainted at seeing her own blood welling from a wound. But that was before. She held her hand out in front of her, twisting her fist to glare at her own bruised knuckles. “That lock is lucky I’m a sweet and gentle lady, not a brawler.”
She blinked as he reached forward abruptly to take her hand.
“If you aren’t a brawler,” he suggested in a low voice, “don’t use your fists.”
His hands were warm, almost too hot on her chilled skin, and with his long fingers manacled around her wrist, it was hard to concentrate. She swallowed against the tightness in her throat. “What should I use instead?”
“I don’t know any sweet and gentle ladies.” With the same swift movement that he’d taken her hand, he released her. “What other skills do you possess?”
She thought for a moment. “A certain proud attitude, an eye for detail, beautiful hair.” She touched the knit cap jammed on her head. “Actually, maybe the hair was someone else’s skill. I mean, the hair was my own—mostly—but the skill to style it was someone else’s.” She grimaced. “When I list it, it doesn’t sound like much.”
“It’s not,” he agreed with ruthless candor. “If you want to apply to the IDA, you should work on that.” He crossed his arms over his chest, pulling the cloak tight around his broad shoulders. “You’ll also want to come back during business hours when the doors are actually open, since neither of your two remaining skills are applicable to lock breaking.”
She restrained a wince. If only she’d traded her long, flowing hair for armor instead of anonymity. His blunt—and not wrong—assessment of her failings scraped at her more cruelly than the edges of the lock. She’d come all this way to escape the dangers of her old life, and instead she’d taken more damage in the last moments than nearly all the ones leading up till now. Uncertainty seized her like the cold air had snatched her breath away, except she didn’t think she’d ever grow numb to it. “And when will the doors be open again?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know when Mr. Evens will begin taking applications. Maybe not until after the grand reopening.”
Her knees wavered. “But I came here…” No, how could she tell him now, when he hadn’t recognized her, didn’t seem welcoming at all? The weakness in her knees crept up her spine. “I must speak with Mr. Evens myself,” she said, trying to summon that certain pride she’d mentioned a moment ago.
Sadly, she must’ve lost the attitude along with her hair, because he only looked at her with those glittering eyes.
“Mr. Evens is very busy with the launch. He isn’t available to meet just anyone anytime.”
“Very well,” she said, although the quaver in her spine had now reached her voice. “I will await him here for when he finds a free moment.”
Wait here in the dark and the cold and the frightening aloneness… She reached behind her to steady herself on the locked door. When her broken knuckles brushed the freezing metal, her legs nearly gave out and she tilted, about to fall—
Even faster than the last time, he reached out to grab her. He grasped her upper arm, holding her upright, and despite his shorter stature, the strength in his grip kept her on her feet.
“Why are you so cold?” His tone was almost as accusing as when he’d demanded an explanation for her presence.
She wrinkled her nose at him. “Because it is freezing out here,” she informed him pertly. “And this drizzle just won’t stop. And the sun went down so, so fast…”
Oh no, she was crying again. Once she’d had a staff, suitors vying for her attention, not to mention a much-envied future, and now she couldn’t even control her own eyeballs.
With another shrug, he removed his cloak and slung it around her. She had one instant to sink gratefully into the heat he’d left behind in the folds of fabric—and in the next stuttering heartbeat, she noticed that underneath, he was naked.
Jerking her gaze away, she ducked her face down into the high collar of the cloak to surreptitiously push her own mouth closed since her agape jaw seemed as resistant to her command as her eyeballs. Still supporting her with one arm, he held the other to the door latch and it released with a soft click. But she wasn’t paying attention to any of that, too achingly aware of his nudity beside her.
With his broad chest and heavily muscled arms, no wonder he’d been able to support her so easily, but the rest of him was sleek and finely proportion to his smaller frame. Even his feet, bare on the cracked pavement, were almost delicately boned, and the rest of him—
She wrapped his cloak even more tightly around her, squeezing it as if she could press the warmth into her skin.
