Her Alien Protector: A Sci-fi Romance

Part 7

Rigel

I am meeting with Tarak who sits in a chair facing my desk. Like always, Tarak seems uncomfortable and out of place, probably still bitter about the fact that Hydra initially forced him and Kayla to have these meetings with me.

"End of session," announces my wall unit.

"Tarak, as required by Hydra, you have completed all your mandatory sessions with me. That means these meetings are no longer necessary—"

"Good," he says, standing.

"Unless you elect to have one."

By the way he slaps his tail, we both know that will never happen.

I recently ended my sessions with his mate, Kayla, and agreed to leave not as a behaviorist and patient, but as friends. I still feel a pleasant buzz at the memory of us shaking hands and then her brushing her lips against my cheek. She had even asked me a favor, and I had escorted her to visit Ava.

I cannot resist attempting to end my session with Tarak the same way. I hold my hand out.

Tarak's nostrils flare and he glares at my outstretched hand. "What is this?"

I cannot resist playfully teasing him. "I thought you might want to leave not as a behaviorist and patient, but as friends."

His teeth jut out and I retract my hand; I don't want to tempt Tarak too much. His reaction is consistent with what I expected. Tarak has previously let me know his disdain for non-scourges, and I have no doubt he would rather bite my hand (or wing, or even neck).

As he turns away from me and walks toward the door, I cannot help smiling because...

Tarak's tail is not slamming into the floor in annoyance, but rhythmically swishes as he walks toward the door, which means... At some instinctive level, he likes me.

If I say any of this aloud, he will bite me.

How can I resist another playful jibe? "Goodbye, friend Tarak."

"Be quiet, bird," he says, yet the swish-swish of his tail is unmistakable.

I roll my eyes at his insistence on using the ridiculous nickname. "I'm not a bird, I'm a—"

"Stop it Tarak, he is not a bird but an Archae Bennuidae," says Kayla who now stands in the doorway.

Tarak moves toward Kayla. I know what will happen next. Tarak will throw Kayla over his shoulder like some sort of conquering alien. The two of them find it cute. I find it even more annoying than Tarak's nickname for me.

Kayla puts her hand up, stopping Tarak. "Wait for me in the lobby? I need to speak with Rigel."

Tarak grunts his agreement and leaves. The moment the door closes, Kayla sits in the empty chair.

Seeing Kayla in the patient chair when we already had a closing meeting worries me. Is she having any problems with Tarak?

"What would you like to talk about today?" I ask.

She smiles. "I would like to do a wellness check."

Wellness checks are often the first tool I use to gauge a pet's level of distress and to assess pets I suspect are abused or mistreated by their owners.

If Kayla wants this assessment done, could it mean Tarak is hurting her?

"Wall unit, pull up the wellness checklist for pets," I say, trying to maintain my composure.