Hoss landed on the balcony, squeezing his large frame onto the ledge barely big enough for the glass table and two metal chairs. He moved, and his tail knocked over the table, which slammed the chairs into the patio door. The porch light shattered. A loud crack made him wince. His handiwork left the frosted glass shattered.

Agnes slid off his back and fell on her ass.

“Ow,” she murmured. “That was subtle.”

He quickly transformed back into a man and helped her to her feet. “Sorry. I’m not used to fitting into tight spaces.”

She grinned. “I would think you’re becoming an expert with changing in the interview room and now here.”

He frowned, but it melted away as he stared into her big eyes. Despite the rising terror around them, she remained sane and could even make a jest. He’d never met a woman like her.

She moved the chairs away from the window. Shards of glass fell across her hand.

“Let me do that.” He frowned. “You could cut yourself.”

She flicked her hand, sending bits of glass falling onto the cement. “I’m fine.”

Someone screamed inside.

“He’s still here,” he growled.

“Kathy,” Agnes yelled as she pulled out her gun. “It’s me! Let me in!”

Kathy peeked out of the hallway, dressed in a robe, and holding a gun in her shaking hands. “Stay where you are! The police are coming!”

“She’s alive,” Agnes gasped. “Kathy, it’s me! Agnes!”

The door busted open, and an officer barged in gun drawn. “Miss, are you all right?”

Kathy pointed at the balcony. “He’s out there.”

“Time to go!” Hoss said.

“No, wait.” Agnes tried to the door again, but it wouldn’t budge. “She doesn’t know it’s us.”

“Stop or I’ll shoot!” The officer aimed his pistol.

Not wanting to argue, Hoss transformed back into a dragon, smashing the furniture again. One of the chair’s legs pierced the glass.

A shot rang out. Agnes gasped. He inhaled the scent of metallic human blood. Fear seized Hoss’s heart. He clasped Agnes with his talons and flew into the air, more shots pursuing them.

Agnes went limp, and his worst horror was realized. She’d been shot. Blood gushed down her temple, then filled her eyes. He knew where her home was since he’d followed her there once, but he needed to get her to a hospital. He flew faster than he thought possible.

Don’t die. Don’t die. Don’t die.

Within a few minutes, he landed out of sight from a hospital. He wished he could have taken her on board to the Orion, but he was forced to use their primitive practices.

He laid her on the grass, and she moaned. He quickly transformed back into a humanoid, then lifted her into his arms and raced to the front doors.

He burst inside to a bright white room containing chairs filled with sick people.

“She’s been shot. She’s an Arvada detective.”

A man in a white gown and woman flew into action. They helped him put Agnes in a wheel chair and ushered her out of the room. He glanced down at his shirt, and it was drenched with her blood. He should have been faster.

Helpless to do anything, he sat in a chair and waited. He was soaked with fear. On the Orion, Tryker would have been able to heal her within minutes, but Earth’s medical technology was light years behind him. The clock ticked slowly overhead, if it moved at all. People filtered in and out of the room while he heard nothing. After what seemed like hours, the woman came over.

“She was unconscious from the shock, but she’s awake now. She’s lost some of her hair and a chunk of skin. Her wound has been cleaned and stitched. The doctor gave her a sedative for the pain. You can see her now.”

He followed her quickly down a corridor that had drapes shielding rooms on one side and open rooms on the other side. Agnes sat in a bed, holding her head.

A doctor had his arms crossed and had a scowl on his face. “You need to stay here for observations, Detective.”

Agnes stubbornly shook her head. “No. This is nothing. I just need some rest in my own bed.”

Pain crossed her face, and she gritted her teeth. She’d a nasty zipper down her right temple.

Cursing the medieval care under his breath, Hoss walked into the room. “So, you think she should stay here, Doctor?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well, I’m not,” Agnes said. “And neither of you can stop me. Hoss take me home. Now.”

Her glare would have melted the Earth’s North Pole.

“You can’t make her stay?” The doctor looked helplessly at Hoss as if he wanted to him to do something, but Hoss hadn’t known Agnes for long and had no illusions, he’d lose this argument.

“No, he can’t,” Agnes answered.

She slid out of the bed and swayed, but Hoss caught her arm.

“Maybe you should stay.”

“I’m not staying. I hate these stupid gowns. I hate hospitals.”

The doctor frowned. “We’re only trying to help.”

“I said no. Where are my clothes?”

“Under your bed.”

“Hoss, will you get them?”

“Sure.” He grabbed the plastic bag, which had her bloodied clothes. “Are you sure you want to wear these?”

She pulled the oversize blue gown away from her chest. “Well, I’m sure as hell not wearing this.”

The doctor shook his head. “I’ll have a nurse help you get dressed.”

Hoss stepped out as a nurse entered the room. He leaned against the wall, wondering how he got such a stubborn-ass mate.

In a few minutes, the nurse opened the door. “Will you please tell her she can’t walk and needs a wheelchair?”

Agnes stuck out her chin. “I can walk.”

Hoss gave her a hard stare. “You’re taking the chair.”

Agnes opened her mouth, but quickly shut it. Surprisingly, she obediently got into the wheel chair and allowed the nurse to roll her out of the emergency room. But before they could leave, Agnes had to sign of mountain paperwork. Another strange human habit. On Zalara, once you were healed, you left, but Zalarians didn’t sue their doctors for malpractice, either.

When she was finally finished, the nurse said, “I’ll wait here with her, while you go and get the car.”

Hoss blinked. Now, what the hell was he going to do?

“We don’t have a car,” Agnes said.

The nurse whirled the wheel chair around to go back inside. “Then I can’t––”

“She’s confused. We have a truck.”

Agnes opened her mouth to argue, but clamped her jaw tight.

Hoss ran to the back of the parking lot until he found an oversize truck that he could squeeze into comfortably. Using dragon strength, he forced open the door, then ripped out the wires to start the truck. He smiled. Human technology was so primitive and stealing a car was easy.

After the nurse closed the door, instead of Agnes thanking him, she leaned her head back. “We’re not keeping this truck. Dump it.”

He was about to argue, but she was his mate and a cop. He begrudging parked the truck in the back of another lot. Not waiting for her to argue, he changed back into a dragon and lifted Agnes into his arms, then flew into the sky.

He landed at her cozy townhouse or at least that was what he thought the humans called it. Luckily it was dark and all the lights were off in the other homes. He closed his wings and dropped her gently. She sprawled out on the lawn like a lifeless rag doll. His heart was in his throat. Blazes, he should have been quicker. Why couldn’t the bullets have hit him?

He transformed back into a humanoid, then picked Agnes up, cradling her in his arms. Blood trickled down her temple and onto her jacket. He sucked in his gut. What was he going to do? He knew nothing of human anatomy. If only the Orion were here, he could take her to Tryker. But he was on his own.

“I should take you back to the hospital,” he muttered.

“No,” she groaned, prompting him to move.

Not caring who heard, he kicked her door, the wood splintering.

“Key…in…my jacket.”

He thought he’d shout for joy. She was alive! However, the door wasn’t so lucky.

“Sorry a little late.”

“You’ll…fix it.” She swayed as she stared at her splintered door. He held her shoulder.

“You need to see a doctor.” He cringed.

She glanced warily at him. “Don’t worry. I don’t want to go to the hospital. Quit making a big deal about this. It’s not like I’ve never had a bullet graze my temple before. I’ll survive.” Despite her pale face, she flashed him a smirk. “I…promise. I just…need to…rest.”

Her voice faded away. Her eyes fluttered, and she collapsed.

He caught her. “Stubborn mate.” He gently kissed her forehead.

With his dragon eyes, he could see through the darkness and carried her up the stairs to a bedroom with clothes, books, and magazines thrown onto the floor. He glimpsed one of the covers of the books, which was a man naked from the waist up.

So, his little hardened detective did think of romance. He tenderly laid her on an unmade bed. She released a shaky sigh.

He hurried into a bathroom that had hair spray, mousse, and all kinds of different lotions. Dried toothpaste was stuck to the sink mixed with strands of blond hair. In the cabinet, she had all kinds of pills and bottles, but he had no idea which one to use.

He took out his telicator. “Captain?”

“What’s happening?”

“I still haven’t located Daidhl. My mate’s been shot. I need to talk with Tryker.”

He couldn’t hide the panic rising inside him.

“Tryker, here.”

“Tryker.” Anonghos held on tight to his telicator. “My mates been shot. She says she doesn’t want to go to a hospital. What do I do?”

“Remain calm. Is there a lot of blood?”

“Yes, but she doesn’t want to go back to the hospital.”

“Clean the wound, then put antiseptic on it. If the doctors examined her and allowed her to leave, she should be fine.”

“But the doctor wanted her to stay for observation, and she refused.”

“If you’re worried, use your transrecorder to determine if there’s any shrapnel, if there is or if the wound keeps bleeding, whether or not she wants to or not, she has to go to the hospital.”

He found a clean washcloth inside a cabinet, then wet it with warm water. His hands were shaking so bad he could barely hold onto the slippery cloth. He found a bottle of antiseptic below the sink along with some bandages. He hurried back to the bedroom, then carefully dabbed her forehead with the cloth.

She winced.

He jerked back his hand. “I’m sorry. Are you in pain?”

“Just have a bad headache, but I’ll be fine.”

“I radioed the ship and––“

“You radioed a ship?”

“The Orion. Our doctor Tryker said that I needed to put antiseptic on your wound, but first I need to check you out with our transrecorder.”

She opened one eye. “Excuse me?”

He removed the transrecorder. “It won’t hurt. I just need to know if you have any shrapnel.”

Hoss gritted his teeth, waiting for the damn transrecorder to analyze her. The green light flashed on, and he released a thankful sigh.

“So?”

“No shrapnel.”

“I could have told you that.”

He stuck it back into his belt. “You’ll have to excuse me for not believing you. Your stubborn streak says differently.”

She smiled weakly, closing her eyes. “I just need to rest for a minute. I’m not stubborn. I’m determined.”

He dabbed the cloth with the antiseptic and wrinkled his nose at the potent smell. “Brace yourself. This is liable to sting.”

He slowly patted the side of her temple. She jerked and sharply hissed, but didn’t complain or beg him to stop. This was a woman who must have experienced some of the same battle scars he had. He hadn’t met many women who were like her, even when there had been women on Zalaria.

She put her hands on the bed. “I better get up.”

He put his hand firmly on her shoulder. “No, you need to rest. If you’re weak and injured, you’re liable to make mistakes.”

“You sound like my brother.”

“Your brother is overbearing?”

“You’ve no idea. I could use a drink,” she said. “I have some scotch in my cupboard above my refrigerator. Why don’t you grab us some glasses? Or don’t you drink alcohol on your planet?”

“We have something similar, norol. It’s a little stronger than your Scotch.”

“I’ll have to try it sometime.”

Norol was spicy and smooth, but could knock even the captain on his ass if he drank too much. He gave her a firm look. “Stay here.”

She draped her arm across her forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Her voice was heavy, and he wasn’t sure if she’d be awake by the time he returned. He grabbed two small glasses and the bottle of Scotch, which sat half empty. He sniffed and detected a sweet creamy fruity smell with a hint of spice.

Her arm still covered her forehead. He slowly unscrewed the bottle in case she was asleep, but she lowered her arm.

She struggled to sit up and released a loud hiss. He raced over to her and knelt at the edge of the bed. “Are you in pain?”

She smirked. “Nothing a little Scotch can’t fix.”

He put his arm around her and helped her to sit, then plopped a pillow behind her. He hurried to retrieve her drink and poured alcohol in both glasses.

He sat on the edge of the bed. “Here.”

She clasped it her hand shaking. “Thank you.”

He thought she’d sip it, but instead she tossed it back in one gulp. No tears welled in her eyes, but it did give some color to her white cheeks.

“Do you want another?”

“No. I just needed enough to help me sleep. Help me get out of this jacket. It’s too constricting.”

He helped her shed the jacket then helped her lie down. She closed her eyes. Her blond hair spilled over her pink pillows. For the first time, he noticed that she had a rose printed comforter and pink sheets. She was such a contrast. Hard and determined, but now, he glimpsed a softer side that he’d like to explore further. His gaze drifted down to appreciate every curve and indentation of her body, his hands twitching at running over her flesh and discovering how she’d like to be pleasured, but taking a woman when she was unconscious left him repulsed.

He wanted her awake, telling him what she wanted, begging him to please her.

Her large breasts rose up down as she exhaled softly. He brought in a chair from her kitchen and sat next to her, determined to guard her. He locked her bedroom door in case the blasted Mistonian knew where she lived. He held his eruptor, ready to blast anyone who threatened Agnes.

“Don’t you need to sleep too?”

Her tired voice startled him.

“I thought you were asleep.”

“It’s kind of hard with you holding a weapon.”

“I’ll sleep when this is over.”

She patted the bed. “No, grab a few winks. I promise I won’t bite.”

“Yeah, but I might.”

“I need you bright-eyed and bushy tailed.”

“I don’t have a bushy tail.”

She laughed. “It’s just a silly saying.” She looked at him with those beautiful eyes. “Please.”

He sighed, hoping he could behave himself. He tossed back the Scotch, pleasantly pleased with its smoothness.

“I’ll try to behave,” he said as he slid next to her.

“Suit yourself.”

“But I don’t have a suit.”

“You don’t. I guess you better go buy one.”

He frowned. “Where….”

She giggled. “I’m teasing you.” She yawned. “Just come to bed.”

He lay perfectly still besides her. Her scent was all over the bed, stirring his libido, his flesh pushing against his pants uncomfortably. His clothes stuck to his hot skin and all he could think about was how she’d taste, and how her body would fit softly against his.

But he was a Zalarian and a dragon of honor. Taking women against their will was against their creed. Besides, loving a woman only led to sorrow. Even mates could break a dragon’s heart.

She spooned her behind against him, and he groaned. His little mate was temptation on a stick. He lied on his back and put his hands behind his head, locking his fingers tight to keep from ravishing her.

He inhaled and exhaled, trying to relax, but he thought any minute his taut muscles would snap. Sweat rolled down his temples as if a blanket smothered him. He detested these feelings growing inside him. They were too intense, too terrifying, too crippling.

He’d always prided himself as being a ladies man, which kept him from falling for any one woman. Distance was key. He could mate with Agnes and produce an heir, but he refused to lose his heart.

Trust meant vulnerability, and lying next to her was a struggle.

Just relax.

He closed his eyes. If he didn’t get at least some sleep, he’d be liable to make a mistake.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Agnes’s rhythm breathing rhythm lured him to sleep…

Hoss ripped up a greetings card he’d received from his mother. Every year she sent him one on his birthday, but that was the only time he heard from her.

His father walked into the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

He threw the bits of the card into a trash can under the sink. “I hate her. I just hate her.” His voice brimmed with anger. He slammed the cupboard door hard.

“She’s still your mother.”

“So! I don’t care. It’s because of you she left. I hate you!”

His dad reached for him. “Son.”

“Leave me alone! Don’t touch me!”

His father winced, then hung his head.

Hoss ran out of the house. He needed to get away from there, needed to roll off some steam.

He came home sweating after wrestling with Damon. His stomach growled, and he was ready for some of his father’s stew, which made him drool. His bruises and scratches ached. After dinner, he’d soak in the hot tub until he was as wrinkled as a horb.

He opened the door, not one light flickered on, and disappointment hit him at not smelling his father’s bubbling stew. He practically ran all the way home to fill his belly.

“Dad, where are you?”

There was no answer. The house was unusually dark. Uneasiness crept up his spine. He walked into the kitchen to a bare counter. He opened the freezer and the stew meat hadn’t been taken out.

Something was wrong. His sweat turned cold, and he shivered.

Maybe his dad was hurt and couldn’t answer him. He raced upstairs and searched the bathrooms and bedrooms, but his father wasn’t there. Blasted, what if he’d left Hoss like his mother had? What was wrong with him that neither of his parents loved him?

His father had promised he’d never leave him. Unwanted tears welled in his eyes. No, he wouldn’t cry.

Maybe his father was roasting meat outside.

“Dad?”

He hurried outside, but the fire pit was dead. His father’s prize garden of glato and vilfe plants and rerry swayed in the wind. The purple, yellow, and pink vegetables were ready to be plucked, but his father had strangely left them alone.

Something swayed under a giant urlus tree in the middle of the garden. The thick vines prevented Hoss from seeing what it was. Chills made him shudder.

“Dad?”

His voice cracked and died in the wind.

Clouds passed over the suns, casting shadows onto the blooming garden. A crack caught his attention.

He forced himself to move. He trembled as he approached. A gust of wind blew the vines, revealing a pair of silver boots, and Hoss stopped. He couldn’t breathe. No, he had to be imagining this.

He stretched out his shaking hand and pulled back the thick vines.

His father hung from a thick branch, his lifeless eyes staring at Hoss.

Hoss fell to his knees, screaming.

“Hoss! Hoss! Wake up.”

Someone shook his shoulders hard.

He jerked awake to look into Agnes’s concerned eyes.

“What’s the matter?”

He sucked in air and was drenched in sweat. The unbearable misery seized him. It was his fault his father had died. He should have come home earlier and told him he loved him. He might have been able to stop his dad.

“Hoss, answer me?”

“Sorry. Give me a moment,” he muttered. He pushed his hair out of his eyes, his body slick with sweat.

“Were you having a nightmare about your father?”

He looked at her sharply. “Why?”

“You were calling out for him,” she said softly. “Then you started screaming.”

“Whenever I’m stressed, the damn childhood nightmare returns.”

She rubbed his back. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” He yanked back the covers. “I need a drink.”

“This kind of work brings out our demons.”

“Go back to sleep.”

He grabbed the bottle of Scotch and took a long swig, hoping to block out the nightmare. He headed down to her living room and sat on the couch. He wasn’t going to sleep tonight. He struggled to breathe normally, but his lungs rattled. Adrenaline pumped blood through him, pushing him into flight and fight mode. On Zalara, he’d transform into a dragon and fly until weariness seized him, but he couldn’t leave Agnes. Not with the blasted Mistonian hunting her.

He took another drink, trying to forget those childhood memories, but they wouldn’t leave.

He’d never forgiven his father for abandoning him, for making him always be the outsider, the kid everyone felt sorry for. The kid no one could love.

“Hoss?” Agnes slowly swayed down the stairs. She put one hand on the railing to steady herself.

“You’re still not well.”

She slid next to him on the sofa. “Neither are you.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You don’t sound fine.”

He refused to get into a debate with her. No, he wasn’t fine and wouldn’t be until he could forget about the dream.

He drank another sip, hoping his mind would get foggy, but doubted anything on Earth was strong enough.

“Drinking isn’t going to help.”

He shrugged. The clock ticked loudly. Cars zoomed by, casting shadows into her living room. Strangely, he found this comforting. She didn’t bombard him with ten millions questions like other females.

She leaned her head back and drifted back to sleep.

He grabbed a blanket and tossed it over her.

His telicator beeped.

He walked out of the living room onto her porch where pink and purple rays were lighting up the dusky sky. “Hoss.”

“This is Tryker. How’s your mate?”

“Sleeping. She’s still pretty groggy, but doesn’t seem to be in pain. Or if she is, she’s keeping it to herself.”

“Good. Call if you need me. She may still need to go to a medical facility.”

Hoss bristled at the thought of primitive methods being applied to his mate. “How are the repairs on the Orion?”

“According to the captain, we’ve still got another five days before she’s ready. Daidhl knew exactly what he was doing when he sabotaged her.”

“Daidhl isn’t Dadihl anymore.”

“Who are you talking to?”

Hoss jumped. Agnes leaned in the doorway with a puzzled look on her sleepy face. Her hair tumbled loosely around her shoulders, and her blouse was unbuttoned, giving him a glimpse of a lacy bra. She was so tempting.

“Anonghos, are you there?” Tryker demanded.

“Something’s come up. I’ll talk to you later.” He closed the telicator. “Ship’s doctor.”

“Is that a communicator?”

“No, it’s a telicator. I can contact my people from here.”

“It has a range all the way to another planet?”

He smirked. “Our technology is a little more advanced than yours.”

“That’s saying it mildly.”

“How’s your head?”

“Still hurts. I can’t sleep.”

He took her hand and led her back inside. “Maybe you need to shower and get into some clean clothes.” His cock immediately hardened, thinking about her stripping down and her body sleek with drops of water.

“Maybe. Care to join me?”

“Are you sure? You were shot last night.”

“This is nothing. I need a distraction.”

He slowly smiled. “And I’m your distraction?”

“Obviously.” She held out her hand. “Shall we?”

For a split second he was about to refuse, but he thought about what the Fate Yethi had told him. Mating with Agnes was the key to his race’s survival. The dream still haunted him. He wanted to stomp it out of his mind and what better way than raw sex.