she looks like death warmed over.”

“I’ll be right in.” She closed her phone. When she turned, Kristor was right behind her. “I need to go to the shop. Katie isn’t feeling well.”

“Of course.”

“I shouldn’t be too long. I could grab a pizza on the way home.”

“I like pizza.”

“I know.” She smiled. He pretty much liked everything edible. And he consumed a lot. “Don’t eat too many sweets or you’ll ruin your supper.”

“You think so?”

“Probably not.”

“I’ll wait for you here.”

She let her gaze roam over him. “Wearing just a towel?” Talk about a fantasy come true!

“Is that how you want me to wait for you?” His gaze moved over her in a slow, seductive move that left her breathless.

“Oh, yeah, just like that.”

“Then this is how you will find me when you return.”

She was still smiling as she went to the bedroom to dress. Maybe she would close up early. Tempting thought.

She pulled up to the shop fifteen minutes later. One thing about being in her line of work, she didn’t have to wear makeup unless she wanted to.

She went inside, reprimanded Katie for not calling and letting her know she was ill, then sent her home with orders not to come back to work until she felt better.

And as she took over the grooming, she watched the clock and counted the minutes until she could leave, until she could lie in Kristor’s arms.

Ria had just sent the last dog off with its owner, and was breathing a sigh of relief that she could turn the open sign around to closed, when the phone rang.

“Closed,” Ria mouthed. They could bring their animal in tomorrow.

But Jeanie didn’t tell them the shop was closed. Instead, she nibbled her bottom lip and cast a worried glance in Ria’s direction. “I think you’d better take this,” Jeanie said, handing the phone to Ria as she stepped closer.

Fear snaked its way through her, curling inside her stomach. “Hello.”

“Ria, it’s Mom.”

“Is Dad okay?”

“He’s fine, sweetie. It’s Kristor.”

Her heart crashed to her feet. “What?” she whispered, grabbing the edge of the desk for support.

“There were some people here from immigration looking for him. They say he might be in the United States illegally. Ria, I’m scared.”

“Oh, God, Mom,” Ria said. “I thought you were going to say Kristor was…dead or something.” Her heart rate slowed to less than a hundred-and-twenty beats per minute.

“I’m sorry,” her mother apologized. “But this is serious. He’s an illegal alien, but what if they find out just how alien he is?”

She could feel the color drain from her face. “Ohmygod, Mom. That can’t happen. It could open a can of worms that we might not be able to close.”

Silence.

“Mom?”

“What if they find out you’re part alien?”

Her pulse sped up again. “If they did that they might—” What? Dissect her? Lock her away in some kind of institution? An eight-by-eight cell with a two-way mirror so they could observe her? She barely swallowed past the lump in her throat.

And what about her parents? They would definitely be at risk for harboring an alien all these years. Ria had to do something, and she had to do it fast.

“Mom, I’ll call you back. I need to get home.” Kristor would know what to do. She handed the phone back to Jeanie, hands shaking.

“What’s wrong?” Jeanie asked, biting her bottom lip.

“I can’t talk about it right now.” She grabbed her purse, then pulled the curtains closed and locked the door. “Can you lock up the back?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“After you do, go out that way, too. And hurry. If anyone talks to you, tell them I’m out of town for a few days.”

“If you need anything, call me,” Jeanie said.

Ria stopped before stepping into the back. “Thanks, Jeanie.” And she was so glad Jeanie didn’t press for more answers.

She glanced both ways before stepping outside. All clear. She hurried to her car and unlocked it. After tossing her purse inside, she slid under the steering wheel and started her car.

Someone tapped on her window.

She jumped and screamed at the same time, her hand flying to her chest.

Chapter 25

Kristor looked up when someone knocked. Ria hadn’t said she was expecting anyone. He glanced down at the towel still knotted at his waist. A promise was a promise and he tried never to break a promise. He sauntered to the door and opened it. Three men stood on the porch, all wearing the same kind of black suit, white shirt, and black tie. An uneasy feeling washed over him.

“Are you Kristor Valkyir?” the oldest of the men asked.

There was something about him that immediately put Kristor on his guard. He looked at the other two men, then quickly dismissed them as followers, rather than leaders.

“Yes, that is who I am.”

“I’m Agent Adam Richards. May we come in for a moment?” Without waiting, he pushed his way inside. “We have reason to believe you might be in the United States illegally.”

“Why would you think that?”

Agent Richards smiled, but he looked more pleased than anything. “An anonymous phone call alerted us to the possibility. Of course, if you can produce papers, then we’ll be on our way.”

Kristor glanced over the man’s shoulder and saw the black van. If they were only here to check for papers, why have three agents and a van, when one agent and a car would have been enough?

Kristor smiled. “Of course. My papers are in the bedroom. I will get them.” His database was on Ria’s nightstand. He could produce a set of papers in only a moment or two.

He turned and walked toward the bedroom. In the mirror above the sofa, he saw Agent Richards motion to the other two men. Kristor grabbed a chair and flung it toward them, but they must have been expecting something because they dodged it and tackled him.

“Cuff him,” Agent Richards said.

With the biggest of the agents sitting on top of Kristor, he could barely breathe let alone try to move. As soon as he was cuffed, they dragged him to his feet. The towel slipped to the floor in the process.

Agent Richards wore a look of disgust. “Get him some pants on.”

The two agents led him toward the bedroom.

“Wait!” Richards said and walked closer. “That’s an unusual birthmark on your ass.”

It was the mark all Symtarians wore: A small rose. But it was not just any rose. No man could ever duplicate the mark.

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