The Falcon Prince (5 page)

“S
omeone told you about the…the voice that talks to me. Admit it. That’s how you found out,” Ria said, then quickly made sure there was no one within hearing distance.

Mary Ann was the only one remotely interested in them. At the moment, she was casting cat-in-heat looks toward Kristor, but she hadn’t made a move yet. She couldn’t possibly hear what they were talking about. And if she could, she certainly wouldn’t be flirting with him. Maybe Ria should suggest Kristor take
her
to his planet.

“No one had to tell me,” Kristor said, capturing her attention. “Every Symtarian has an animal guide.”

No, he was lying. Of course he was lying. He had to be lying. Anything else was totally ridiculous. “There are no such things as aliens or animal guides or a planet called New Symtaria.”

He’s not lying. This is who you are. I’ve been trying to convince you all these years that I’m real. Except you wouldn’t freakin’ listen! And it’s been driving me crazy! Now we both have answers.

“Shut up.” Great, she’d spoken out loud. Kristor didn’t seem to think anything out of the ordinary had happened.

Too much beer. That was it. It never took more than one-and-a-half longnecks to make her tipsy, and she’d downed two as if the Budweiser plants were filing for bankruptcy tomorrow.

“You are part Symtarian,” Kristor reinforced.

“No, I’m not, because it would make me as crazy as you.” She stomped to the tub and grabbed another beer. Maybe sinking into oblivion was what she needed. If she thought too much about what Kristor was saying, then she might start to believe him.

Set me free,
Shintara cried out.

Go away!
Ria chugged the beer, trying to drown out Shintara’s voice.

I’m not schizophrenic,
Ria silently screamed to herself. Then more quietly, she added
I’m not.

But what if she was? Maybe there was a society of schizophrenics, and they searched each other out. There could be whole towns. Her forehead puckered. And you’d only need a few people to create one. One person could literally take on more than one role.

That is so not funny,
Shintara said.

Ria didn’t think so, either.

A couple of guys pulled out guitars, one a fiddle. Her dad set up the microphone. Good, she needed distraction.

Her parents lived on five acres on the outskirts of Miller Bend, and since the neighbors were at the party, no one worried about noise. Right now noise sounded good. Anything to drown out her thoughts.

She glanced around. The crowd of people had grown to over sixty and she suspected it would continue to grow as the night wore on. There was beer, hotdogs and chips, and boot-stompin’ music. Half the town would probably end up in their backyard, bringing a couple of six packs, or something to eat, as their invitation.

Ria wanted to lose herself in the music, in the crowd, and keep her distance from Kristor. Mary Ann had finally made her way over to him. Her long dark hair swinging free, the strands like hissing snakes, her eyes laughing up at him as her claws casually rested on his arm. Her hubby was busy talking to some of the men, quite impervious to her slutty behavior. Not that Ria cared.

“Hey, pretty lady, dance with me,” Jessie said as he sidled up next to her.

“That’s the best offer I’ve had all day.” Ria laughed, drained her beer, then tossed it toward the trash can, and almost made it, before wrapping her arms around his neck. His hold on her waist was loose and comfortable. She’d known Jessie most of her life, since his family had moved here from Henrietta, Texas. He was what people called “a good old boy.” She just hadn’t figured out what he was good for. That struck her as funny, so she laughed.

“I think someone has had too much to drink,” Jessie said.

She shook her head. “Not nearly enough.” To prove her point, she grabbed another beer as they danced past the tub.

The song ended, and Donald slipped in where Jessie had once been. She blinked twice as her vision changed from slicked back hair and dime-store aftershave to a very polished
GQ
guy, with only a light scent of the finest men’s cologne.

“You’re drunk,” Donald said, smiling wide and showing his pearly whites, except his words were as sharp as barbed wire. He moved her around the yard in some semblance of a two-step. His movements were stiff and jerky. The man had absolutely no rhythm.

“Drunk? Not quite, but I’m getting there.” Honey dripped from the smile she cast in his direction.

“You might think you’re funny, but you’re only making a spectacle of yourself. People talk about you enough as it is. You would think you’d at least attempt a lower profile.”

She took another drink of beer, then belched like a sailor.

He curled his lip.

“I don’t give a damn if they talk about me,” she said.

“Can I cut in?” Neil asked.

Donald opened his mouth.

“Yes,” she quickly spoke up, and moved smoothly into Neil’s arms, well, until she tripped over something in the yard. But Neil caught her before she fell. That made her laugh, too.

Donald turned on his heel and was soon lost in the crowd. Good riddance. He’d always put a damper on her activities.

“Are you having fun?” Neil asked.

“The best ever.”

“Uh…how’s Carly?”

Even as looped as she was, she saw the spark of interest. “Why, Neil Jackson, are you sweet on my best friend?”

He blushed. “I just heard she was sick. Thought I’d ask about her.”

“She’s really sick.”

His face fell. “So, she’s not coming tonight?”

She shook her head and almost toppled over. He righted her. “Maybe no more beer,” she mumbled.

“Carly?” he prodded.

Her eyebrows drew together. “How long have you liked her?” And why had Ria never noticed?

He gripped her a little tighter as they swayed to the music. “Since our freshman year. But she’s never looked twice at me. The guys she usually goes out with are jerks. Why does she do that?”

“Maybe you should let her know how you feel. Then she might stop dating losers.”

“Could you sort of test the waters?”

What was she now? A matchmaker. That is, besides being an alien. Correction: part alien. She frowned. “Does my skin tone look a little green to you?”

He held her at arm’s length. “You’re not about to toss your cookies, are you?”

“No.”

“Good.” He drew her back a little. “And you don’t look green, either.”

“Do I have anything poking out the top of my head?”

He examined the top of her head. “Like what?”

“Antennae.”

“Why? Are you thinking about become a human transmitter?”

“No.” She hadn’t really thought she was part alien.

He suddenly smiled. “I bought some blue body paint a number of Halloweens ago. I thought I might look cool if I dressed like one of those blue guys that perform out in Las Vegas. Didn’t think the junk was ever going to fade away. Went to the hospital when that old bull threw me and they wanted to put me on oxygen.”

She chuckled.

“It wasn’t that funny at the time.” He blushed, then grinned. “I guess it is now, though.”

She’d always liked Neil, in a sisterly sort of way. “Yeah, sure, I’ll test the waters with Carly, but all you have to do is a little sweet talkin’. That’s what a girl likes.”

“Yeah, well, Carly isn’t like other girls. She’s special.”

Neil dropped his arms from around her when the music ended, but before she could head for a place to sit, Kristor was standing in front of her.

“I’ve been watching how you move with each other,” he said as Neil took off toward the food table. “The steps seem simple enough.” Kristor pulled her into his arms.

There was something different about the way he held her from the way her last partners had held her. In his arms, she felt as though she danced on air. And if wind had a smell, it would be Kristor. The wind, the woods, the scent of a man.

“Why don’t you go back to where you came from?” she asked, but her words came out on a sigh and didn’t hold a lot of conviction.

“I have to protect you.”

“From the rogue Symtarians? Wooo, I’m scared.”

“You shouldn’t be. I won’t let harm come to you.”

“I feel so much better now.” She looked deep into his fathomless green eyes, but couldn’t see even a little spark of insanity. Which meant zilch. “If you’re an alien, why do you look like people from Earth? And where’d you get the clothes you’re wearing?” Let him answer those questions.

“My database will create anything I need.”

“How convenient.”

“And I look like everyone else because our species is similar to yours.”

“Anyone could have told you I’ve talked to a voice in my head, so that doesn’t prove anything.”

“I have a voice inside my head as well.”

She missed a step, and he caught her closer to him. She rested her head against his chest, and let his warmth wrap around her. What the hell was she thinking? The guy was crazy. He had just admitted to hearing a voice.

Oh, wait, she had, too.

The song ended. She stepped away. Kristor looked as if he waited for her to do something.

“I’m hungry.” She made a quick about-face and hurried to the table.

It practically bowed in the middle with the amount of food that had been piled on top of it. Texans rarely went hungry. She wasn’t at the moment, but she needed to do something. Eating seemed like a good solution.

She grabbed a paper plate and a hot dog, chips, and then started to reach for a beer, but changed her mind and grabbed a Coke instead. As she passed the dessert end, she grabbed a thick slice of chocolate cake with fudge icing.

There were chairs and tables set up farther back in the yard. And if someone couldn’t find a table or a chair, there were blankets spread out on the ground. Nothing formal here, just a good-old-boy backyard party.

With an alien or two.

She was so losing it.

There was a vacant table, so she grabbed it, only getting a little icing on her hotdog, which she was quite proud of since she was still feeling a buzz. A few seconds later, Kristor set his plate and drink down beside her.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than stalk me?” she asked right before she licked the icing off her hotdog. Why did food always taste better when you were tipsy?

“I’m not stalking you. I’m only here to offer my protection.”

“And try to talk me into going back to your planet with you.”

He shrugged. “That, too.”

She ate a chip, then swallowed it down with a drink of her Coke. “You don’t think that sounds a little squirrely?”

“Squirrely?”

“You know, crazy.”

“I’m sorry, but it’s the truth.”

She leaned back in her chair and really looked at him. “Okay, prove to me you’re an alien. Where are your antennae?”

“Do people still believe all aliens are green and have antennae?”

Why did she suddenly feel as though she’d stereotyped a whole race of…of people? That was ridiculous. “Tell me why I should believe you.”

He fingered a chip, then looked at her, his expression serious. “Because it’s who you are. A part of yourself that you have denied far too long.” He sat straighter. “We are a race capable of shapeshifting. Our animal guides are separate, yet we are one.”

“Shapeshifting?” Wow, for just a second, she had sort of, only sort of, started to believe him. That should warn her away from any more alcohol for the rest of her life. His stories were getting more ridiculous by the minute. “You mean, you can take on an animal form?”

“As can you. My animal guide is the hawk.”

“The one in the woods?”

“Correct.”

She leaned closer.

He did the same.

“Bullshit,” she whispered.

“Bullshit?”

“It means I don’t believe you.”

His eyes sparked with anger. She quickly moved back. Calling the guy a liar probably wasn’t a good idea. The guy was mental, after all.

“You would deny your animal guide the right to be free?”

Why did she suddenly feel guilty? Why was she even having this conversation? She picked up her hotdog and took a humongous bite. Better that her mouth was full so she wouldn’t tell Kristor just how crazy she thought he was. If she angered him too much, there was no telling what he would do.

“Has your guide never tried to get you to shift?”

“Into what?” she asked around the half of a hotdog that she was still trying to chew.

“You tell me.”

A hawk, remember?
Shintara’s voice echoed through her mind.

“A hawk?” she said before she thought better about feeding Kristor’s fantasy that he was a shapeshifting alien.

“A hawk.” He nodded. “That is why I’m drawn to you.”

“You’re drawn to me?”

“As you are to me.”

Before she got into a repetition of “am not, are, too”, she said, “I was only talking out loud. Besides, I’m afraid of flying, so even if I could change into a hawk, I wouldn’t.”

“Ahh, so that has been the problem.”

“There’s no ahh, about it. I still think you’re crazy.”

“Concentrate on an animal. Your guide will help you to shift. It doesn’t have to be anything that flies in the beginning.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Are you afraid to find out for sure?”

She came to her feet. “I’m not scared of anything.” With a toss of her ponytail, she took her plate and carried it to the trash can. And she certainly wasn’t going to concentrate on an animal. The idea was ridiculous.

Are you so sure about that?
Shintara spoke up.

“Yes, I’m absolutely positive. I’m not part alien.”

“Maybe you should go easy on the beer,” her father said as he came up beside her.

She opened her mouth to tell him her buzz was already wearing off, but changed her mind. “You’re right, Dad.” She held up the Coke she hadn’t quite finished. “Already switched over.”

“Good girl.”

Not much later, she kissed her mom good night, and got Neil to drive her home. Someone would drop her car off tomorrow. No biggie.

But once she was back at her house, she couldn’t help wondering if some of what Kristor had told her just might be true. Did aliens actually exist? She didn’t know why they couldn’t.