Chapter 1

1

Z hoel closed his eyes on the silvery gleam of his ship’s teleportation deck as the tingling thrum crawled over his body, feeling nervous about his first trip to Earth. He hoped his dark jeans and navy peacoat would help him look less alien, though his cobalt blue skin was an obvious giveaway. One misstep could ruin everything, and he had high hopes for this visit.

As the disorientation from travel faded, he drew in a deep breath of wintry air, sharp with the fragrance of tree resin and warm, sweet spice. He always enjoyed that first inhalation, that first primal insight of a strange new planet. Opening his eyes to muted daylight, he found himself staring directly into a pair of unblinking brown eyes.

“Kuzara,” he swore, staggering back.

The being didn’t move. A statue .

He let out a relieved breath and groped in his pocket for his Holographic Guidance Unit. The maps provided by the planetary database humans called “Goggle” had indicated these coordinates would be vacant, but as he craned his neck to the sky, a shoddily thatched roof stretched over his head. More carved wooden figures stood posed nearby, their painted eyes fixed adoringly on a small infant nestled in what appeared to be dried vegetation.

“Mommy, look, an angel!” a child’s voice outside the shelter called.

Moving carefully around the statues, Zhoel emerged from the three-sided shelter onto a sidewalk where several humans wearing thick coats and scarves stood staring at him with their mouths open, each as still as the sculptures behind him. His empathic ability was too weak to fully grasp their emotions, but their body language radiated fear, curiosity, and what he thought might be outrage. His mouth went dry. My arrival apparently interrupted something significant .

Earth had only recently learned there were other species in the galaxy, and this was likely a first encounter for the people of Bloomington. He attempted a reassuring smile. “Forgive my intrusion.”

A child in a bright pink coat with a white ruff of fur around the hood tugged on a woman’s hand, her wide eyes reflecting the twinkling lights strung up on nearby structures. “I wanna talk to the angel!”

“He’s not an angel, Claudia.” The woman jerked the child back against the side of her long black coat. “He’s an alien. And we don’t talk to strangers.” Pivoting, she towed the child behind her down the sidewalk.

In less than a heartbeat, the remaining townsfolk bolted as well, leaving him alone with the silent statues.

Zhoel cursed his weak Iki’i; any other Kirenai would’ve been able to read their feelings empathically and moderate the interaction. Don’t let your flaws interfere with your plan . If humans dealt with each other without the use of an Iki’i, he could do it, too. Business contracts required numbers and logistics, not emotion. He only needed to find the Carson Family Trucking office and negotiate a deal for surface transportation.

Males across the galaxy were clamoring to meet human females, but travel to Earth was strictly regulated by intergalactic law; the Intergalactic Dating Agency held the only permit. The IDA focused on marketing to Earth’s dense population centers and usually transported females off-planet for massive dating events. Zhoel wanted to offer a more immersive dating experience with a focus on human culture, capitalizing on the unique charm of small communities like Bloomington. He’d endured headache-inducing bureaucracy—mostly caused by IDA interference—to secure a short-term business visa, and he had to make the most of his time here.

Zhoel shivered, the cold seeping through his clothing as fat white flakes of snow fell lightly from the overcast sky. He’d chosen his outfit based on a trendy human magazine, but now he wished he’d opted for a puffy jacket like the humans he’d just met. From somewhere far away, a song drifted toward him, his translator picking out the words, “Silent night, holy night...”

He looked in both directions along the empty street. A sagging layer of snow hid the nearby street sign, so he pulled out his Holographic Guidance Unit. Intergalactic law restricted surface mapping on Earth, which was still an underdeveloped and protected planet. Zhoel had luckily established a connection to the human’s “Goggle” map database.

His teleporter was supposed to have placed him within walking distance of the trucking company, which, according to his contact, should be open for another hour and a half. The HGU’s soft blue glow caught on falling snowflakes as he squinted at the flattened layout of the town. A glowing line showed a route between the closely set brick buildings.

Zhoel pulled the collar of his coat up, shoving his hands into his pockets as he walked. The snow was falling faster now, gathering on his shoulders and painting the sidewalk white. He turned a corner and spotted people moving between small shops and vehicles parked at the edge of the sidewalk, keeping their heads down against the increasing snowfall.

Moving forward cautiously and keeping his distance, he took in his surroundings. His arrival had already surprised a few locals, and the last thing he wanted was to accidentally offend more townsfolk.

On either side of the road, glittering circles of greenery dotted with bows and baubles hung from lamp posts. Small lights twinkled from windows, awnings, and even the bare branches of trees. He paused at a window display of a pointed evergreen that glittered with tinsel, its lower branches hovering over brightly wrapped boxes like a damtal hen with her chicks. Another store emitted a delightful smell that reminded him of sticky kazhitsu buns. Many businesses were playing festive music, and everywhere he looked there were fascinating displays of colored light. The diversity of human languages and traditions on Earth were still under documentation, but it seemed something important was happening in this town. This is probably an experience my clients would enjoy .

He turned another corner, still following the route on his HGU, and paused in front of a large window stenciled with enormous sparkly silver snowflakes. Inside, a harried-looking female tried to coax a crying toddler to sit on the lap of a rotund man with a white beard and red suit. The child’s wails echoed through the glass.

Recalling the infant in the display of statues, Zhoel pressed his face closer, slightly worried. Is this some sort of ritualistic offering?

“Please, sweetie, just one picture with Santa for Grandma,” the woman pleaded, her voice nearly drowned out by the child’s screeching cries.

Not an offering, then, but possibly a ritual. Perhaps a coming of age or consecration of some kind.

A gust of wind nipped at his exposed skin, and he turned away from the shop, boots plowing a trail through the snow now covering his toes. He’d walked for at least fifteen more minutes before he realized he was once again looking into the window where the plump, red-coated man had sat. The chair was now vacant.

Frowning, he stared at his HGU. It’s sending me in circles.

“Kuzara,” he swore, and stepped into an alleyway out of sight of any passersby. He thumbed the device, checking the status of the human map database, and got a message that his “app was up to date.” This is a perfect example of why my clients will pay top dollar for my services . Once he’d partnered with a human company, they’d handle these types of logistics so none of his clients would get lost or stranded. Especially in the middle of a blizzard .

Zhoel straightened his shoulders and shoved his HGU back into his pocket. Time to get directions in the old-fashioned way—by asking.

He stepped back onto the sidewalk, glancing in both directions. The sky had darkened to pewter, and the lamp posts along the street had flickered on, casting cones of yellow light downward through the accumulating snow. There were no humans in sight, but the sound of singing drifted from somewhere nearby. He followed the music, rounding a corner to discover a town square dominated by an enormous glittering tree. A group of singers stood near the base belting out, “Oh, Christmas tree!” as if in worship of the towering monolith.

Reluctant to interrupt their ceremony, Zhoel waited, scanning the nearby storefronts for signs of the trucking office. The light inside one store went out, then another.

Bong . A bell tolled once across the square.

The song concluded, and the singers moved away, laughing and talking. Zhoel followed at a discreet distance, straining his feeble empathic senses to select which human might be most willing to speak with an alien. He didn’t like to rely on his Iki’i, but after the fiasco with the statues, he needed any edge he could get. Yet he couldn’t get a firm grasp on any one person, the wisps of their emotions dissolving like melting snowflakes.

The singers ducked into one of the parked vehicles along the street.

They’re leaving . Frantic, Zhoel darted forward, boots slipping on a patch of ice. He caught himself against a nearby bench, regaining his balance in time to see the vehicle speeding away, its glowing red taillights quickly swallowed by falling snow.

Berating himself, he turned back toward the shops, searching for someone else to give him directions. The sidewalks appeared deserted, and more shop lights had dimmed, leaving the square illuminated only by the twinkling pinpricks of light covering the massive tree.

Desperate and getting colder by the second, Zhoel headed toward a store that still appeared occupied. Warm light flickered between cluttered stacks of books in the window, and a faded sign over the door read Brooke’s Books. As he reached for the door handle, a woman emerged, her arms laden with a swaying pile of hardbacks. Her head was turned back over her shoulder, still engaged in a conversation with someone inside the shop.

“Thanks for staying, Brooke! These will be perfect for the—Oh!” She exhaled as she collided directly into Zhoel’s chest.

The pile of books teetered dangerously, and he righted them just before they slipped from her grasp. Her pink-flushed cheeks deepened in color as she stared up at him with warm hazel eyes. A tangle of chestnut hair spilled out from beneath her yellow knit cap.

His Iki’i spiked with unusually strong arousal. Hers? Or mine? She was strikingly lovely, and his mating rod stirred to attention, making his heart race. He’d never had such an acute reaction to a female. They stood with their eyes locked in a moment that stretched and stalled under the softly falling snow.

Then a horn beeped, making the woman startle.

“Excuse me,” she said in a breathy voice that made his insides flip-flop. She ducked past him and climbed into a waiting vehicle with a man in a baseball cap at the wheel.

Husband? Jealousy flared briefly before Zhoel shook his head. His task was to arrange a business deal, not find a mate, and he had limited time to do it. Yet he stood and watched the vehicle’s tail lights retreat before he turned back to the shop.

As he entered, a cozy blanket of warm air embraced him, along with the dry aroma of old paper and ink. The shop’s interior held towering shelves crammed full of physical books. More volumes were stacked haphazardly on tables and floor, like a small city of skyscrapers waiting to topple. A middle-aged woman with graying hair glanced up from where she stood behind a counter, her mouth dropping open. An orange cat slept lazily on a pile of cushions near the register.

“You’re...” the woman gulped and stammered. “I’m sorry, but we’re about to close.”

“I’m not here to buy anything,” Zhoel said, bringing out his HGU. Its blue light gleamed like ice under the shop’s warm glow. “I need directions, please. It seems ‘Goggle’ isn’t as accurate as I require.”

The woman’s eyes widened at the device, but she chuckled softly. “You mean Google? Yes, their map of Bloomington wasn’t any good even when it was up to date. Where are you trying to go?”

“Carson Family Trucking.”

The proprietor’s brow furrowed. “Really? That was Lila Carson you just bumped into. She basically runs the business.”

He turned, as if expecting the alluring woman to reappear in the doorway at her name. His heart was beating slightly too fast. That was the person he was supposed to meet? The idea of working closely with the hazel-eyed woman made him giddy. “She has already departed the area. Can you please tell me how to reach her?”

The woman scratched her jaw. “Their office closes up early this time of year. They won’t open again until Monday.”

His chest tightened. “I’m on a limited time travel visa. I can’t wait until Monday.” Zhoel turned back to her. “Can you provide me directions to her domicile?”

“Her house?” The woman’s gray eyebrows shot up, and she shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He’d read all the IDA’s pamphlets, and recalled one section mentioning that humans liked to give and receive “tips” for services rendered, so he rummaged in his pocket, producing several slips of human money he’d brought for just this reason. “I very much appreciate your assistance.”

“Money’s not the issue.” She crossed her arms, her expression darkening. “I’m just not in the habit of directing strange alien men to the homes of young women.”

Zhoel couldn’t misread the wariness now radiating off the woman, regardless of his faulty Iki’i. “My apologies if I offended,” he said, stuffing the bills back into his pocket. “I’ve been corresponding with another representative from Carson Trucking—someone named Pearl. Perhaps you could direct me to find them?”

“Pearl is Lila’s grandma.”

He narrowed one eye hopefully. “I suppose directing me to her home is no better than directing me to Lila’s.”

She laughed, her features softening slightly. “Pearl and Lila live together. Tell you what—why don’t I give Pearl a call and see what she says?”

The woman removed a rectangular device from her pocket and, within a few minutes, was speaking to someone. He caught fragments of an elderly woman’s voice, including the word dating and Lila. Finally, the bookstore proprietor pocketed the device, a humorous glint now lighting her eyes.

“Well, Pearl says to send you on over. If you give me a few minutes to close up, I’ll give you a ride.”

“I am deeply grateful for your help.” Zhoel bowed, relieved he’d be speaking with Pearl about his business; if he had to make a deal with an alluring woman like Lila, he’d never be able to focus.