“Found the missing critters, did ya?”
“I did.”
“Are three semis enough?”
“Better send four. Have them come to Lily Begay’s summer hogan in Monument Valley,” I said.
“Consider it done. Who’s footing the bill?”
“Central Command.” I grinned as Jake rolled his eyes.
Helen chortled. “I’ll have them there within an hour.”
“Thanks.” I disconnected and typed in a message on the Navajo Nation’s emergency alert system: Missing sheep located. Come to the fairgrounds in two hours.
“Nicely done, but Uncle Saul will take the cost of transporting the sheep out of your pay,” Jake said.
“What? Central Command doesn’t pay my salary.”
“They do now.”
Crap. “If Trayon wants me to find him a mate, he’ll pay.”
There was a streak of black and Trayon zoomed up with another sheep.
To my amazement, the sheep weren’t frightened of him. Tiny lightning bolts crackled around me. “Time for fang boy to pay up.”
Jake grabbed me. “I’ll talk to him.”
“Ok. Be sure to point out to him that none of those sheep have red markings on them.”
“Askole warriors don’t see colors the way we do.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.” Jake teleported over to Trayon.
I rubbed my suddenly aching forehead. “Now he tells me.”
***
Four dusty hours later, the sheep had been returned to their owners. Jake and I watched the last trailer pull out of the fairgrounds.
“I need a Datol,” Trayon announced.
I was surprised he was still here, but I had to admit his super speed had been a great help. “Datol?”
“Beer,” Jake answered.
“Oh. Sorry. No alcohol is allowed on Navajo Nation land.”
Trayon tapped on his armband. “There is a tavern called Billy Bob’s nearby.”
“Bad idea. That’s a biker bar. They don’t like aliens and they’ll want to fight you,” I said hastily.
“Good.” Trayon zoomed off.
“Oh hell!”
Jake sighed. “Wrong thing to say. Askole warriors live to fight.”
“How pissed is the General gonna be when Trayon demolishes the bar?”
“Very.” Jake grabbed me and teleported.
We appeared in a rutted parking lot with eight old Harley motorcycles parked in a neat row. At one time the dilapidated building had been a convenience store. The windows were boarded over, and a weather-beaten sign dangled by one corner. It squeaked forlornly in the breeze. The faded lettering proclaimed: Billy Bob’s Tavern.
“Look on the bright side. There’s no screaming or gunfire yet,” I said.
Jake scanned the interior of the bar. “The operative word is yet. Ten hostiles have Trayon surrounded.”
“A little rain should cool them down. Sepulcrum ibidem solus novum. Vem Hum. Domum rotundam!” Thunder rumbled inside the bar. Lightning cracked loudly.
“Run! It’s that crazy shaman cop,” a man yelled.
The doors flew open and nine wet, tattooed, long-haired guys burst out.
The bikers took one look at me, skidded to a stop, and raised their hands. “Ma’am,” they all said politely.
I smiled at them. “Howdy boys. You have sixty seconds to get gone. Anyone still here goes to jail.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the bikers cried. They all climbed on the motorcycles and roared off.
His eyes narrowed in concentration, Jake chanted, “Oi-oi-oi-oi solus novum!”
I smiled when the storm died down.
“I think I’ve got it.” Jake walked into the bar.
I followed him inside. Trayon was helping himself to a beer. The bartender cowered in the corner. “Hey, Billy Bob.”
Relief flooded Billy Bob’s face as he hurried over to me. “Officer Tsosie I want that fucking alien arrested.”
“Did he assault you?”
Billy Bob twitched. “No.”
“Did he try to rob you?”
“No, but he helped himself to a beer,” Billy Bob whined.
Jake snorted.
“Did he refuse to pay for the beer?”
“No ma’am, but I don’t serve fucking aliens.”
“You do today,” Jake stated, assuming his scary as hell warlord demeanor.
Trayon bared his fangs and his tentacles slithered like angry snakes.
Billy Bob hurriedly handed Trayon another bottle of beer. “On the house, sir.”
I grimaced. Even with the rainstorm, my boots still stuck to the floor.
“I’ll take a beer and a soda for my lady,” Jake commanded.
Bobbing his head, the bartender quickly complied.
“This place is worse than the dives on Belton Three,” Jake commented as he gave me the soda.
“Whatever you do, stay out of the bathroom. It’s the stuff of nightmares.” I took a long drink and frowned as the crawlies hit me. “We have incoming Askole warriors.”
“Fuck!” Jake turned to Trayon. “Who did you invite?”
“My squad. They are due leave time and wanted to visit a human bar.”
“How wonderful.” Through the open doors, I watched as glittering blue lights filled the parking lot. When they vanished six Askole warriors stood there. “Sightseeing Askole warrior. Can we say trouble with a capital T?”
“Understatement of the year,” Jake said, tapping on his bracelet.
“Calling for reinforcements?”
“Hell, yeah. When an Askole warrior gets drunk he is impossible to control. Six? You’re looking at Armageddon.”
Trayon’s warriors marched up to the bar and let loose with a bunch of guttural grunts and clucking.
Billy Bob stared at them in horror. “I don’t speak alien.”
“Tell the puny human my warriors want Datol,” Trayon said.
I rolled my eyes. “Gee Billy Bob, what do you think they want?”
“Dunno. Could be vodka, rum, whisky or bourbon.”
“They want beer. Just beer,” Jake snapped.
“I don’t take no funny money either.”
I grabbed the reluctant bartender by the shirt front. “Are you deliberately trying to piss me off?”
“No, ma’am,” Billy Bob gulped.
“Good. Get them their beer.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Suddenly the perfect bartender, Bill Bob served the warriors.
Jake stiffened as a sleek, black shuttle landed on the roadway and fifteen Coletti warriors in full battle armor filed down the ramp.
“Gotta admit, that was quick.”
“They aren’t my reinforcements. That’s Drax, Keyan’s father, and some of his like-minded friends.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “The ones who think only full-blooded Coletti warriors deserve Earth females?”
“Yep and Drax is furious with Zarek for sentencing Keyan to fifty years of hard labor on Vesta,” Jake said.
“The idiot’s about to join him there.”
“If he survives. You’re mine and no one touches you.”
Jake was serious and I didn’t know if I should be offended or flattered. “Okey-dokey.” I eyed the Coletti warriors marching toward us. When outnumbered, a smart woman used available resources. I linked with Trayon. “See
