Alien in the Family (3) Read online

  “What are we looking for?” Martini asked. “She’s a shapeshifter. She could look like anyone.”

  I thought about it as we raced through the casino. “She’ll look like herself, as much as possible. She thinks she’s in the clear, and she’s had hours here to assure herself of that.”

  “She knows we have Moira,” Christopher said.

  “No, I don’t think she does. I think she thinks Moira has me. Jeff, you still holding that tracking device?”

  He cursed. “Yes. I forgot I had it.”

  “That’s great. Put it into my purse.”

  “Hell, no!”

  “Put it in my damn purse, Jeff! And look for a strong, big woman with spiky blonde hair. Figure she’ll look like she’s in the WNBA.” He muttered but dropped the tracker in as requested.

  We looked around. Nothing that seemed to fit. “It’s close to noon,” Christopher said urgently.

  My brain waved at me. “The roof. She’ll be on the roof. This is a small place, she has to get up high to see things go down.”

  We raced for the stairs. The door to the roof was locked. Martini wrenched it open and we went through, back outside under the close-to-noonday sun. We came around to face the Mandalay Bay, and there she was. Her back was to us, but from what I could tell, she was built like Martini and about the same size. Only, she was a bit larger, and potentially more muscular. I got a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  “Kyrellis.”

  She turned around. “I know you.” Spiky blonde hair, violet eyes. I got the impression the Free Women had made do without their men via a cloning process. She smiled, and it was a very evil smile. “You brought them to me. What a good little girl you are. Maybe I will not kill you. Maybe I will let you stay with me and my mate.”

  Oh, right. She was an assassin. And she wanted to kill Martini and Christopher. “Guys? Please get out of here.”

  “No.” In unison again. Not too loud, but with a lot of meaning from both of them.

  “I can’t see her do to you what Moira did to James.”

  “She won’t,” Martini said. “We aren’t being lured and fooled.”

  “She will.” Gregory’s voice came from behind us. I looked over my shoulder. He was behind us. The Poofs were with him, but they weren’t big or growling. They were trembling.

  “So, you have them attached to you after all, Greg?”

  “No. I just know how to control them.” He had Harlie in his hand, fingers held in an unnatural position. I assumed this meant he was doing something to prevent Harlie’s ability to go large or toothy. He was squeezing it tightly and it was clear he could squeeze tighter. “Threaten the leader, the followers do your bidding.”

  “Yeah, that’s the bad guy plan in a nutshell.”

  Gregory shrugged. “Just because none of you can see the advantages to ruling the strongest planet in two solar systems doesn’t mean I can’t.”

  “Kyrellis, why are you working with a man?”

  She shrugged. “He has . . . helped us. My God feels he is worthy in Her sight. Not to touch us, but he will be an ally we need.”

  “Boy, are you gullible.”

  She smiled her evil smile. “No. I am powerful. As you will soon see.”

  She shimmered, and there was another Martini standing there.

  “Oh, great,” he muttered. “Don’t use the Glock.”

  “I’m sure that’s her plan. Jeff, please, get out of here.”

  “I love you. Please remember that.” He ran toward her and the two of them started fighting, all out, with clear intent to kill—but at human speeds. Gregory’s attention was on the fight, and Christopher took advantage of his distraction by body-slamming him. Unfortunately, A-Cs were strong, and they were fighting at hyperspeed instantly.

  I realized I’d never seen Martini fight, other than the one time he and Christopher had gone at it, and that had looked a lot more like the fight Christopher and Gregory were currently having—blurry guys rolling around on the ground. I had no idea who was the real Martini—they were both good fighters, scary good.

  Body slams, double punches, kicks, lunges—they could have gone into the light heavyweight class in the UFC and taken the division easily. Tito was in the featherweight class, I was pretty sure, but he wasn’t here to pass along any clues as to who to put my money on.

  I gathered the frightened Poofs and put them into my purse. “It’s okay, Poofies,” I lied. I pulled the Glock out, just in case.

  I saw something small fly through the air. It was Harlie, and it was heading for the edge of the roof. I dropped the Glock and my purse, kicked off my shoes, and ran. I’d been a sprinter, and I was still great over the short distances. Caught the Poof in the air, had to come to a screeching halt. Didn’t achieve it and went over the edge.

  Lucked into something to grab onto. One-handed. Small ledge, too far from the roof to get back up there. Far too far away from the ground to want to let go. “Harlie, be a good Poof and get on my shoulder.” Harlie scrambled up as requested, and I managed to get both hands on the edge, just in time. Got toes on not much. Felt like glass.

  Okay, this wasn’t good. Tried to use my toes to support, didn’t work. At all. The edge wasn’t all that secure, and I was in trouble. I couldn’t call to Martini or Christopher—not only were they dealing with murderous opponents, but my screaming could cause them to be fatally distracted.

  Of course, my plummeting to my death wasn’t going to sit well with them, either. Right before I started to scream, whatever I was leaning my toes against disappeared, and I felt hands on my feet.

  “It’s a chick,” a male voice called. “Gimme a hand.”

  “Help!”

  “Hang on, sweet cheeks, we got you.” I felt someone near me and risked a look. A big guy wearing a USC Trojans T-shirt was inching along the ledge next to me. He put his arm around my waist. “Got her, guys. Let go, babe.”

  I did and grabbed him. Built like Martini. Thank God. Several pairs of hands pulled us inside. Inside what turned out to be a big suite. “Wow, thanks. I can’t tell you how great your timing was.”

  The guy who’d saved me grinned. “Trojan football at your service, hon. I’m Len.”

  Lots of big guys, all athletes. Fairly drunk, but I wasn’t going to complain. “I’m Kitty, and I need your help. I mean, again.”

  “You a dealer here?” another one asked me.

  “No, why would you think that?”

  “Some of the Hooters girls don’t wear the shorts and stuff,” he answered with a grin. “And you have the job requirements filled.”

  “Filled well!” another voice called. There were affirmations around the room that my rack was all right by Trojan football.

  “Dudes, seriously. I’m a Federal agent and we have a terrorism situation going on.” I looked around and saw the room clock. 11:50 a.m. “We have ten minutes to save thousands of people. Can you please help me?”

  Len gave me an up and down. “Federal agent?”

  “Undercover. My badge is on the roof. Along with my partners. Who are potentially losing fights to the terrorists. Look, thanks for the save, I have to go.”

  “Oh, come on.” One of the others said, getting in front of me. “Why go now?” He was one of the drunker guys. He was also a linebacker if I was any judge.

  I picked up the threat. I didn’t have time for it. “Let me go or come with me. The only options.”

  “C’mon, Kyle, get out of her way,” Len said.

  “You’re only the QB when we’re on the field, Len.” Kyle looked as though he was used to being a problem.

  “I don’t have time for the gang rape plan, okay? I’m not kidding, thousands are going to die.”

  “Sounds great.” Kyle had a few guys backing him.

  Len came up behind me, took my hand, and pulled me away. “Mine, then. Okay? Now, get out of the way.”

  “We’re a team. We share.” Kyle finished his beer, tossed the can, and put out his hand. One
of his buddies slapped another into his huge ham-hand. He popped it and started drinking again.

  “I have to get out of here. There’s no time.”

  Len tried to move me out of the room, but the line stopped him. “Who’s gonna know?” Kyle asked.

  “I will,” Len said. I looked behind us. Len had some backers. They weren’t as big as Kyle’s backers, and Kyle’s were all clearly more wasted.

  Time to improvise and hope Gregory hadn’t caused too much damage. “Harlie? Be a good Poof and help me get back to Jeff.”

  The Poof jumped off my shoulder and turned Martini-sized. It didn’t growl, though. It roared.

  “Holy shit!” Kyle and his guys fell back. I took the opportunity to run for the door.

  Len came with me. “What the hell is that thing?”

  “Experimental protection weapon. Top secret. Come if you’re helping, otherwise, thanks again for the save.” I bolted for the stairs.

  There were pounding feet behind me. Len and his crew were following me. I could hear the line screaming. Good.

  Ran up the stairs, saw the door Martini’d ripped off its hinges. Good, right spot. Reached the roof to see the fighting still going on. Grabbed my Glock and tried to figure out who to shoot.

  There were two Martinis fighting. Both were hurt, one more than the other. But I couldn’t guess who would have done more damage between the real Martini and Kyrellis. Christopher and Gregory were rolling on the ground, blurry but there. So they were tiring. I pointed to them. “Guys, get them separated. One’s a bad guy, one’s another Federal agent. The Fed’s in a black Armani suit.”

  The football players ran over and surrounded Christopher. I stopped looking. Hopefully that would turn out okay.

  “Kyrellis!” They both looked at me. Damn, that didn’t work. “We’ve found all the bombs.” Lie, but maybe it would cause a reaction.

  Did. They both went back to hitting each other. Hard. One landed a great uppercut and the other staggered back, toward the edge. I wanted to run and grab him, but what if it wasn’t “my” Martini?

  “Hey, Kitty!” I turned at the sound of Len’s voice. They had Christopher and Gregory separated. “Who’s who?”

  I ran over, and pulled Christopher out. “He’s the Fed. Keep this other guy under control. Hurt him if you need to.” I looked at Christopher. “You look awful.”

  He shrugged. “It’ll pass. How’s Jeff?”

  “Um . . . no idea.” We stepped a little closer. “Have you seen him fight like this? Can you tell who’s who?”

  Christopher studied them. “She’s imitating his fighting style. No way to tell.” He sounded as worried as I felt.

  “Great. Find out if we’re going to have an explosion.”

  He pulled out his phone and I inched closer to the fight. The Martini who was more hurt got knocked to his knees. The other one slammed his fist into the side of his head. He went down.

  “Jeff?”

  The one standing looked at me and nodded. The one on the ground groaned. I went to him and pointed the Glock at the one standing. “Say something.” The Martini standing rolled his eyes. But he didn’t speak. And I didn’t hesitate.

  CHAPTER 37

  KYRELLIS TRIED TO RUN, but I hadn’t been joking—my mother had been working with me on rapid firing techniques. I hit her torso and kept firing. By the third bullet, she shimmered and turned back into herself. By the eighth bullet I gave up on the torso and hit a knee. She went down.

  “Christopher, need you and the guys, and my purse!”

  Christopher pulled some of the football players off Gregory, and they covered Kyrellis. Len ran my purse to me. “That was weird and amazing.”

  “Thanks. Need your help.” I dug through for the case where I kept Martini’s adrenaline. Got it out, filled the huge needle. Ripped his shirt open. “He’s going to start thrashing, and he’s really strong. You need to help me hold him.”

  “Okay. Will you tell me what’s going on later?”

  “Possibly.”

  Martini’s eyes fluttered open. “Baby? Were you sure that wasn’t me?”

  “Hush, Jeff. Of course I was sure. Why do you think I waited until you were on the ground?”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “I meant I had to wait to see if the Martini standing was going to speak to me or not. I didn’t want to distract the real you.”

  “I feel like crap.” He was gasping. I knew this scenario well.

  “It’s okay. It’ll be okay.” I, as always, hoped. I bent down and did my ritual. Kissed his forehead and said, “I love you, Jeff,” against his skin. Then I reared back and slammed the needle right into his hearts.

  He bellowed and started thrashing. “Shit!” Len flung himself onto Martini’s body. “You weren’t kidding!”

  I heard the sound of running feet and felt the roof shake. Looked over to see the linebackers coming our way. “Oh, great.” I was trying to hold Martini’s upper body and get the harpoon put away without getting hurt or killed.

  Kyle’s eyes were wide and he looked as though he’d been scared sober. “I think that thing wants us to help you.” His voice was squeaky. I looked around him and saw Harlie, still huge and mad, herding the rest of the team to us.

  “Help hold him, but don’t hurt him.”

  Kyle and a couple others dropped and held. I got the harpoon put away, then put Martini’s head onto my thighs. “It’s okay, Jeff. Come on back, baby.” I stroked his head and tried not to worry about how badly Kyrellis might have hurt him.

  It took a few minutes, but his thrashing slowed, then stopped. “Get these guys off of me,” he growled.

  I nodded. “Thanks, guys.” They stood up. “Jeff, how badly are you hurt?”

  “Oh, a couple of broken ribs, my head’s killing me, I think my shoulder’s dislocated. You missed a lot of brutality. She only imitated my fighting style when you were around to see it and be confused.”

  “Wish you’d said something. I could have shot her.”

  “Love you, know you’re becoming as good a shot as your mother. Didn’t want to get shot by you, and, shockingly, didn’t want you saving me. It’s bad enough that the Amazon beat the crap out of me.” He closed his eyes. “You know, I’m officially tired of having to be rescued.”

  I kissed his forehead. “Retire, and then I won’t have to.”

  He managed a laugh. “Right.” He opened his eyes. “Any of you jocks know how to put a shoulder back in?”

  Len and Kyle both nodded. “Really?” I found that hard to believe.

  Kyle shrugged. “I’m premed.”

  “Oh, come on.”

  “I am. And, I’m sorry I was a jerk.” He mumbled that one.

  “What did he try?” Martini was growling.

  “I almost fell off the building. Len and the rest of his team saved me.” I figured it wasn’t worth getting upset over. There were so many other issues at hand.

  Len and Kyle sat Martini up, then Kyle did some push and shove move with Martini’s arm and Martini bellowed again. I winced. “Thanks,” he said through gritted teeth. They helped him up, then Len helped me up. Martini’s eyes narrowed. Oh, good, back to jealousy. Oh, well, at least he was alive and reasonably unscathed.

  I heard a shriek from Kyrellis. “What have you done?”

  I looked around. Nothing was crumbling; nothing was going up in smoke. “Christopher?”

  “They’re pretty sure they found all the bombs. An unreal amount—she had to have been planting them for twenty-four hours straight.” Christopher’s voice was clipped; he was in full Commander Mode. “Tito’s hunch was right—she’d rigged the mall. The rest of your hunches were right, too. She hadn’t rigged the other casinos outside of the Mandalay complex, but she’d set the bridges to blow, I guess under the impression it would cut the ‘palace’ off.”

  “You are one whacked-out chick.”

  “You will pay for this,” she snarled.

  “No. I think you and Moira will.
We’ve had her in custody for quite a while. You know, while you were hanging out, eating chicken wings and ogling the Hooters girls? I’ve been mentally torturing her. It was great.”

  Kyrellis lunged at me, but the football players held her in check. “Get these beasts off me!”

  “Nah. I’m almost tempted to let them have fun with you. But that would be wrong, and the men I work with would be appalled, so I won’t.”

  “She in the WNBA?” Len asked me.

  “No. She’s an Amazonian superbitch from another solar system.” Why lie? I was pretty sure Martini was going to have to give the team a different memory.

  “You’re kidding, like Wonder Woman?” This from Kyle.

  I took a look at his expression. Wow, you never knew when or where a kindred spirit would appear. “Yeah, only Wonder Woman wanted to protect the Earth, and she wants to destroy it.”

  “That thing from her planet?” he asked, as he pointed to Harlie, excitement radiating from every pore.

  “Nope, from theirs,” I pointed to Martini and Christopher, both of whom were giving me the looks that said I had a big mouth and was insane.

  “Babe, really, I was drunk off my ass. Total apologies, okay? In fact, someone should probably kick my ass.” Kyle was sincere. It was touching in a weird way.

  “I’ll be glad to,” Len said. He had a sarcasm knob just like Martini, and it was on, as near as I could tell, full.

  “Do I want to know?” Martini snarled.

  “No. Guys, really, we need to get our alien lesbian psycho and the wimp traitor over to the proper authorities.”

  “Need their help with it,” Christopher snapped. “They’re both too strong for us alone.”

  “You got it.” Len barked some orders, Kyle did the same. The line took Kyrellis; Len’s boys took Gregory. Len and Kyle both helped Martini. I took Christopher, who wasn’t as steady as he was trying to pretend he was.

  Got my purse and shoes, checked on the Poofs. They were all asleep, cuddled around Harlie, who was back to small. “Why didn’t you have the Poofs attack?” Christopher asked me.

  “Uh . . .” Damn. Hadn’t occurred to me. For all I knew, I might not have had to catch Harlie, either. Possibly the Poofs could fly along with all their other skills.