Tuesday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.
I've been busier than a fox in an unguarded henhouse... including being forced to upgrade to highspeed internet – which I didn't know was now available in my tame-prairie area – because my dialup number will no longer be available – so that's been somewhat of an adventure, and I lost sleep putting it all together last night. But so far, so good... and a huge improvement over my primitive computer system...
Thus and so, here's a continuation of my flash scene from last week, titled: Coyote Shapeshifter Lost On Earth
No yip-yip doubt he was beguiled...
Her tantalizing odor tickled his nostrils, an unceasing wonderful torment that drew Drukr closer...and ever closer. No yip-yip doubt he was beguiled by the woman coyote beauty who'd been chasing his furry and his bare-butt tail. For good reason.
Yet he couldn't return to Ship. He'd been laser tagged by an alien spec-ops team, who were serious as a sucking blackhole about capturing him. And, not just bagging him for interrogation and gruesome experiments, but for Borg-ing the silicon-control structure of his commerce spaceship.
The tech was from another alien race who were obviously in cahoots with Earth humans military. With the first sting, he'd known, and run like a starving vampire toward a hot-blood dinner.
It had become a Wiley-coyote game, even silly cartoonish at times -- keeping a few paws ahead of the various black-ops teams they'd sent to trap him. Part of him grinned most of the time, enjoying the hell out of winning against their amateurish attempts.
Then the game escalated to galactic proportions. He'd had to outwit her. Kesza, tracker extraordinnaire by any measure in the known galaxies.
Now she was an endangered alien species because of her unable-to-shift exhaustion. No way would Drukr let her be taken captive. So, he'd be her bodyguard. Only...
If he wasn't evading her relentless search for him, he was prey to wanting her. Yip-yip-howl, with an insatiable carnal appetite.
Feeling her eye his approach, Drukr padded more slowly. She raised her lovely coyote head, a snarl beginning low in her throat.
'Drukr,' he announced telepathically, and halted his approach. At the same moment, she caught a whiff of hm, the growl dying in her throat.
He watched her ears swivel back, and she gave him a disgusted look. 'Where have you been?'
'Tagged. I can't go back to the ship.' Drukr figured simplicity was best. Besides, the smell of her fatigue suggested she wasn't up for a lengthy explanation of his plight.
Alarm registered in her dark lustrous eyes. She sniffed, and Drukr felt her energy zag through him. Even tired down to her beautiful bones, she still checked out the truth of his words.
'Now we're both targets.' Drukr moved toward her again, but as if he walked atop a bed of cactus. Even worn out, she could viciously attack. Nail him with her superior-fighting skills, and force him to return.
No star-way would he let the ship's systems be assimilated. Not only would the city-large craft be compromised severely, it could mean the death of everyone aboard.
'Targets', she mind-yawned. 'You don't happen to have a safe hideout, do you?'
'There's an abandoned gold mine...' he began.
'Before I collapse, let's go,' she interrupted. Rising quickly, Kesza stretched, every lean gorgeous line of her, and Drukr lustily salivated. 'I feel the enemy nosing around.' She padded over the mattress toward him.
'We'll have to lay down a false trail,' Drukr spun around, knowing she would follow.
'Don't say lay down,' she sniped inside his mind. 'Go! I'll keep up.'
Drukr snapped his head around even as he trotted over the desert floor. He had to witness with his own eyes, that she was behind him. 'There's a more comfy mattress with bedding at the gold mine,' he encouraged.
With the sun's heat threatening to burn their hides, Drukr launched into a ground-eating trot. Just to make certain, he kept one ear tilted back listening to Kesza's gait, somewhat jerky because of her depleted state.
As minimally as he could, Drukr circled and zigzagged them toward his lair. Once they reached a shelf of weather-bared stone, he wove them between several enormous outcroppings of rock.
The opening to the gold mine was rudimentary, a hole in the ground long covered over by a thick patch of sagebrush. Drukr slipped inside, immediately crawling the short distance to a mine shaft that was significantly cooler, and could accommodate his human height.
He whipped around, morphing to man in the same instant. Behind him, Kesza collapsed in his arms. She was so limp Drukr gathered her close to his chest as he walked to his sparse yet comfortable enough living area.
He'd been able to stay hidden longer than usual, and had furnished the mined cavern with throwaway finds from an isolated, wealthy community. Rather proud of himself for staying free and alive on Earth, Drukr spent hours planning on how to sneakily accumulate the comforts of home.
Given it was about an hour's travel as coyote to the community, he often hijacked unattended vehicles, disabled their sensor electronics, then used them to hide his treasures -- where he would retrieve them much later.
Before Drukr could place her on a warm waterbed, Kesza had fallen into a deep sleep. With a gentleness he didn't know he possessed, Drukr laid her in the center, a pile of limbless beautiful fur.
On impulse he lightly kissed her cheek. By the grace of the Grand Coyote, she hadn't been tagged, not marked in any way. She could return to Ship.
But Drukr already knew he'd miss her like a knife stuck between his ribs. No, a knife piercing his heart.
Drukr stepped back and gave her the sniff test. All Kesza needed was uninterrupted sleep, and a good meal. All she need was him watching over her. Until she recovered.
Mournful howls to their homeworld, there had to be a way to remove the laser-implanted tag embedded in his lung. Sitting on his bare-ass haunches, Drukr watched her sleep without a twitch.
If he could get them to Dante's Pleasure Club, the alpha werewolf, just might have the hidden-world contacts to help him. Drukr also knew for a fact, the massive underground club had the advanced tech to keep it shielded from satellite and Tesla-energy ground surveillance -- even though his small mapping craft had been able to penetrate, and he'd observed a playground of eroticism.
Wishing you love and passion on the wild side ~
Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance