A Small Degree of Hope. Lyndi Alexander

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      Suddenly light-headed, Kylie realized she’d been holding her breath. She leaned closer, speaking quietly, “You know me and what I’m investigating and you want to interfere with me?” She jerked her wrist. He released her, leaving behind a red mark.

      “Interfere? Not at all.” He stood behind the table, his muscles taut as if he’d jump over it to chase her if she left. “Please sit down. You are attracting attention.”

      “Me?” People at neighboring tables displayed a sudden interest in their conversation, if one could call it that. “Right.” Annoyed, she took the seat he indicated. “Whatever you’re trying to pull, fri—” She poked her finger at him. “Look, this isn’t a game. You’d better have useful information.”

      She studied him, his eyes still fascinating her. No one had eyes that color. Except that dead body.

      “What do you need to help you find the one responsible for these deaths?” he asked.

      What in the hells did he mean? What do you need… As if he were some sort of fairy godfather? He’d just drop it in her lap and move on?

      “You said you had information for me. Let’s hear it.”

      At the next table, three city officers adjusted their chairs, intent upon her private conversation. She didn’t intend to share credit for her investigation with bumbling local yokels. “Come on,” she said. “We’ll talk outside.”

      She jumped out of her chair in a flash, her hands close to her body so he couldn’t grab her again. He followed her to the street, walking past the bums and hangers-on without a word. Now what?

      She’d put herself into a corner. She wouldn’t conduct an interview on the sidewalk in that kind of neighborhood. Muraco contained two fairly rough districts where crime lords conducted business just out of the sight of local governments.

      The thought of sitting, trapped, in her car with a yellow-eyed stranger made her insides crawl. “Do you have a vehicle? You could follow me to my office.”

      “No.” He stood with her in the middle of the street as cars passed going both directions. “It is dangerous to remain in the crosswalk.”

      “Right.” She growled. Ten miles to the Cendiary. He could never walk there in a reasonable time. Her car provided the best alternative. She needed to learn what he knew. Something about him rang true.

      When traffic cleared, she hurried across to the vehicle. He moved exactly when she moved, ending up near the back fender as Kylie stopped at the driver’s door, key in hand. She eyed him. “I’m armed.”

      He nodded. “You have an X35 Glock in your belt holster, pepper spray in your jacket pocket and a stiletto in your right boot.”

      A rock settled in her gut and she froze. “What—I—how can you see that?”

      He glanced across the street at some young thugs. “Perhaps we should enter your vehicle. It appears less hazardous.”

      She followed his gaze and sighed. “I swear by the gods that I’ll take you out if you try anything.” Although, since he had several inches and a good twenty-five pounds of muscle on her, she’d be hard-pressed to carry out her threat in that enclosed space.

      “Understood.” He walked to the passenger side of her car and waited for her to open the door. He let her get in first, which satisfied her because she could watch every move he made folding himself into her compact vehicle. Nothing suspicious came to light.

      Once they’d both settled in, she put the key in the ignition, locked the doors and pulled her jacket loose so she’d have access to her firearm. “Tell me how you identified what weapons I carry.”

      He shrugged, his shoulders stretching the black nylon jacket he wore. “Not important.”

      “It is to me, friend.”

      “Again, you call me ‘friend.’ This pleases me.” He smiled, and a warm light entered his eyes.

      Was this man mentally defective? Or did he just not understand Galactic Standard? If Standard wasn’t his first language, did that make him alien? “I don’t mean ‘friend’ like that. The weapons? Now?”

      “They are apparent to me. I cannot explain it any other way. I also sense your heart beats ninety times per minute, your skin temperature is one degree below normal and your system has not yet processed the toxins you have just ingested.”

      Now that creeped her right out. She wanted to demand proof, discover his secret, but she wasn’t sure how long she’d have to talk with him. Better to skip to the important stuff. “You said you could tell me about the dead women. How are you acquainted with them?”

      He cocked his head again, studying her. “Surely you are aware the announcements have been made regularly on your news channels.”

      She hit the steering wheel with her left fist. “Of course I am, you idiot. I want to know why you have information the media doesn’t.” As his gaze flickered away from hers, she wondered if her perp sat only eight inches away.

      “Because I do.”

      Jaco would have slammed this guy’s head on the table by now. Pity she didn’t have a table handy. “Well, good for you.” She counted to ten, wishing she had X-ray vision, or ESP, or whatever the hell this guy had that let him see into her.

      And less to drink, apparently, because she still felt a little fuzzy. Not wise when dealing with a perp.

      “All right. Let’s try another way. Tell me about the changes made to the women.”

      Although the lizard-nature of the changes had been made public, no details had been released.

      Let’s see how Mr. Smart Guy handles this.

      Staring out the windshield, he took a deep breath then answered in a monotone. “The females change from their cell structure up. The skin will first mottle, then become rough and dry and finally develop a certain kind of texture, not unlike scales. Once the cell structure differentiates, other parts of the body begin to change. Reproductive organs alter last.”

      As he spoke, Kylie fought to keep her face impassive, but her mind reeled. He described exactly what they’d seen. Exactly. She nodded, just enough to encourage him, and reached for her pad. “Do you mind if I take notes?”

      “No.” He watched her hands.

       Yeah, I bet you’re jumpy now, pal, aren’t you?

      Where had she left her handcuffs? Maybe in her bedroom at home. Pretty sure there wasn’t a set in the car. Damnation.

      “How does that change take place, exactly? You said at the cellular level. But what mechanism? Blood-borne? A hormone?”

      “A СКАЧАТЬ