When a Good Angel Falls by Savanna Kougar

The Endtimes aren’t Jolly

“You know what they say about incarnated angels, don’t you?”

“They fly too close to the ground?” Zerr Dann half-grinned at his universe roaming buddy, a red Alsaishun. He tossed down a swallow of his barley ale.

“Incarnated angels, when on Earth just whispers away from a bad fall—isn’t that the cloud wisdom?” Jorque saluted with his full mug of liver ale, then quaffed.

“On Earth good angels fall too hard. Rescued a few on our family vacations.” Zerr Dann revealed the sacred acts of his parents—what he had not done before, in accordance with The Timing.

“Angel crash and burn out. So that’s your Earth connection. Beyond your mother’s mortal inheritance,” Jorque barked understanding, then drank.

“Ways of the Divine Mind. I am my mother’s son. The question, was that the celestial plan all along?” Zerr Dann chuckled his joy, tipped up his ale.

“No. It was your father’s carnal plan. Love with the right incarnated angel.”

“Incarnated angels. Reluctant saviors of their chosen world. That’s what mom always says. Especially on Earth.”

“Your mother ought to know. Hey, I gotta a bone to pick with Seraphim Central. You’re just a cherub pup, still wet behind the celestial ears. Earth is evil-infested.” Jorque tossed back a large swallow, and leaned forward.

“The serpents of darkness devouring the serpents of light, yes, a gathering of evil.” Zerr Dann glowed white-fiercely, ready for the battle.

“What?” Jorque barking ribbed. “Three assignments completed beyond heaven’s gate?”

Zerr Dann didn’t speak it, or think it. Sworn to sacred oath, his previous ‘assignment’ had been dangerous and brutal. Yet, he had proven his ‘warrior cherub’ mettle. Also, he owned a connection to his new assignment. One that had his curiosity on sizzle because of the woman—an Earther, his angel incarnate.

“Three, yeah.” He grinned devilishly, his gaze good-natured. He swallowed more of his ale, listening to the night tavern crowd around them, where he and Jorque fit in.

Here, they learned on the front celestial lines, what the high angelic realms needed to know. Since ‘beings’ in various physical manifestations of the Seraphim met with each other, all of them serving by assignment in the multitudes of physical worlds. Once their assignments were completed, they returned to this physical nexus realm.

Designed to appear as part of the galaxy, the realm was also used as a constant training ground for service in the material worlds.

“Yeah,” Zerr Dann easily grinned. “What do they say? About incarnated angels?”

“Hot as sin. Carnal flight instead of celestial flight.”

Zerr Dann paused, glanced over the rim of his mug. Deliberately he set it down. “Dad would agree. The difference, though. I won’t be her lover. She’s prayer-sworn off men for decades.”

“Older Earth woman won’t be as threatened by a younger ‘cherub pup’. That the intervention strategy?”

“You will be a devoted pet?” Zerr Dann eyed him intensely.

“Arf, arf,” Jorque practiced. “I’ll even dutifully guard the pretend space ship.”

“And I’ll dutifully guard our Earth angel unaware.” Zerr Dann drank the last dregs. “Mostly unaware,” he corrected. “She’s experienced glimpses of her true spiritual nature.”

“Rare for an angel incarnate to endure, to last that long as an Earth human,” Jorque spoke, knowing there was more he wasn’t being told, probably a cosmos worth of knowledge. Still, he would go paw-digging for every tasty morsel of truth.

“Yeah, rare. I’m soaring-eager to meet her, learn from her.” Zerr Dann’s small powerful wings, black as the galaxy, flapped his emotion. Wings naturally manifested in this environment, and temporarily eliminated in Earth’s vibration.

* * * *

“Have a holly jolly Christmas, it’s the best time of the year,” Sedona badly sang, just to dryly entertain herself. “Especially if you’re seasonally depressed and have no vitamin D,” she sarcastically stretched. “Oh by golly, 2012‘s not Christmas holly, oh by golly, the endtimes aren’t jolly. Is our salvation just unholy folly?”

Sedona drove along the old one-lane highway southwest of what used to be Flagstaff, Arizona. Once the catastrophes lined up like the breadlines, it had become a FEMA /military base of operation. She had been fortunate to bypass the checkpoints without being stopped, and hauled off to the closest camp, then forced into some ungodly way of existence. Death was always preferable. And few her age cared anymore. No reason, no reason, at all.

As usual she wondered about the great mystery. Why? Why am I still alive? In these unbelievably ugly times, with evil alive and well everywhere.

Is it the grace of Goddess? It could only be grace. Only some strange miraculous grace that she still lived. The why of it? Sedona possessed no earthly clue.

True, she could summon psychic abilities as naturally as she breathed, in certain crucial instances, especially healing,. Whenever the soft glow of ‘knowing’ occurred inside her, she could simply touch a person or an animal, and the healing would instantly take place. Yet, she couldn’t just heal anyone who needed it. And certainly, her abilities didn’t compare to other well-known Psychic/Healers.

Still, she’d never fit in, not anywhere. And talk about choosing the ‘road less traveled’, she could be the iconic poster person on that book cover. Not that real books were available these days, except on the dangerous black market.

Briefly, Sedona shook her head, wanting to get rid of the angst over her survival. In truth, she envied all those who died, their spirits traveling to the other side. Human or animal, it didn’t matter. Sedona envied them.

Especially when she saw all the corpses, common now, and literally piled up the world over. She blessed them all to heaven and desperately wished, aching-wished she could join them. But she never had. Not yet.

Sighing, Sedona watched the impressive light show in the night sky. All around her asteroids arced constantly, some flashing out before they struck. Most of the stars couldn’t be seen, hidden by the ash haze of Mexico’s erupting volcanoes, hellish explosions she’d watched on an illegal TV feed.

While hard on her lungs and eyes, the ash made the spy satellites useless, a victory in her book, since it impeded the net tight control of Homeland Security.

The steady rain of asteroids for the last thirty-five days had been strangely beautiful, yet deadly to large land areas on Earth, and sometimes to remaining population centers. Yet, it also prevented the Homeland Hordes from rounding up the desired or eliminating the undesired.

Slowly enough not to trigger the watch beams, her old early ‘90s van clumped along. Five years ago Sedona had eliminated every electronic device, and replaced the engine with an antique which had been converted to use water as fuel, although now, clean water was scarce in most places.

No electronics, no herd-control implanted chips, and a lot less chance of being caught, then charged with a crime against the state. Any crime, it didn’t matter anymore. Jaywalking could be considered a crime against the state, even a possible terrorist act. Recently a man had been convicted as a terrorist for halting the progress of an enforcement vehicle, and sent away to the most grueling work station, simply because he jaywalked.

That was life inside what some now called and accepted as the North American Union.

Sedona didn’t accept it. Had never accepted it. She had neutralized every chip. But she couldn’t fight as a New Rebel either, even though she had trained the last five years to a high fitness level.

Sixty-one years of age, she no longer had the stamina needed for that noble sacrifice. The New Rebels were always on the run, or attacking. Nor did she have the tech expertise, the brilliance to manipulate the big brother chips and the Darth Vader web systems.

Having no family left, and not much of anything left, with her land stolen by the police state since it still produced crops, Sedona helped out wherever she could. And merely existed. Now she drove to a friend’s hidden sanctuary, invited when they’d managed to talk over a shortwave radio.

Sedona grimaced at the irony of driving through Sedona, her namesake. Now deserted, the new age haven had been brutally wiped out by the New World Order’s bio-terrorism. Yep, the message had been cruelly delivered to all those who believed in sacred-creating an enlightened global order.

In 2012 fear reigned. For most everyone.

Seeing no one, she drove in silence. Even having an old radio on, if a signal could be snagged, upped her chances of being caught. “Run silent, run deep,” she quoted, ignoring the eery chill in her gut.

“Fear rules everything. Okay, maybe not for those lucky enough to be at Maya Toga Days,” she mumbled, half-elated, half-repulsed by the idea.

“Maybe a big fat miracle or two. The great solar flare of enlightenment courtesy of sun cycle 24.” She took a breath, musing. “I don’t suppose they have Christmas tree lights on the pyramid. Serpent lights, yeah, that’s the ticket. The ticket to paradise. The tree of life. Let’s all jump for joy. It’s a new kind of holly jolly Christmas. The garden of Eden returned, where the feathered serpents are Santas, delivering toys.”

“Oh no.” Despair settled in her stomach like a rock. Her van slowed, clunking offensive loud noises. “It’s a good day to die. Good night to die.”

Her own whisper knifed her insides, as she guided the rolling van toward the crumbling edge of the neglected highway. “Maybe the coyotes will get me first. Rather feed the wildlife,” she muttered.

Slowly the van died, pathetically coughing, and obviously on its last wheels. Finally she rolled to a dead stop. Sedona breathed for a few moments, her hands glued to the steering wheel. She had to get out, and leave. Any stopped vehicle was immediately investigated. Already the road sensor beamed the signal. Pulling on two jackets, she grabbed her one huge bag of belongings, stepping out quickly.

For a few moments, she leaned against the van, gazing around, trying to make some sort of decision about where to go, what to do. If it mattered. Ultimately mattered. In the shroud of scorched ash and night, she couldn’t see where to go. Or not go. Maybe an asteroid would just strike her down—a fiery puff of flesh, like human combustion—and it would be over. Lights out. Lights on in heaven.

Sedona hissed a sigh. Too damn bad, the asteroids weren’t striking close enough. She tried to figure out how long she could walk along the highway before they found her. The few isolated towns, ranches or homesteads still left in the area, wouldn’t be safe for a stranger, no matter which side of the fence she claimed to be on, anti-government or pro-government. And she saw nothing, no lights of any kind.

By habit she silently spoke prayers for help and protection. Hoisting her bag, Sedona shivered in the cold desert air of December. Gee. Only about three days to the end of the Mayan calendar. Do you think I could walk to LA in that time? Wondering what would be the easiest, quickest way to die in this circumstance, she slowly walked in the direction she had been driving.

Before Sedona could take more than a few steps, the cycle rider appeared, a whispering hum of sound. No lights, the cycle and the rider’s garments blended in with the night. Ten feet in front of her, the rider seemed to wait for her to approach. Obviously, this was no Homeland Nazi. She would have been on the ground, tasered, and probably dead. Certainly twitching in agony.

Tensed to escape, she watched the rider remove his or her helmet. His helmet. He looked young from what she could see. Not a whole helluva lot, since the darkness ruled all.

“Get on,” he invited. “Looks like you need a friendly lift.”

Good Lord, his voice melted her insides. The movie star caliber of Tom Cruise, only better. Or what used to be considered movie star sexy. Not anymore. You might as well have Hitler speaking English in the current horror offering of movies to the mind-numbed public.

“I could be dangerous,” she answered, trying to decide—not like there were many options. Him or Homeland, or run toward land she couldn’t really see worth an effing damn. She took a few steps toward him. If he was going to kill her, maybe it would be quick.

“The Nazerazzi are more dangerous,” he offered, his tone practical. “And on their way. Enough room behind me for you and your bag.”

Sedona sighed loudly, and decisively moved toward him. “Old Spice,” she awe-muttered. “Where did you find that?”

“Dad’s stuff.”

Reaching back, he slid open the compartment, and Sedona stuffed her bag inside.

“Goddess!” she warned. The searching lights of Homeland Security Hummers blazed in the distance Instantly, he closed the compartment, and she swung behind him.

“Tight,” he commanded as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Rebel?” she asked, just before he peeled out, then veered away from the advancing headlight’s phalanx.

Sedona squeezed her eyes closed, feeling the wind whip over her. When she opened them, they flew over the land. And off the highway. No wheels beneath them. Cool as rare cucumbers, she thought. Rich rebel?

Behind them she heard the drone trackers, the slight whistling. If she screamed to him about their presence, that would only make it worse, and make tracking them easier. Suddenly they soared through a narrow rock arch. And she heard the drones smash like giant wasps. Relieved, she sang inside with the temporary victory.

Slowing his cycle, her maybe rescuer executed a ninety degree turn to the left, then they streaked through an immense canyon. Sedona only knew because he beamed his lights, a dim wide-sweeping radiance. Slowing again, he slid them through a small cave entrance. Quickly they cruised a winding irregular path through cave tunnels.

Fear began in the pit of her stomach. But it was too late now. Was she about to be blood sacrificed to one of the New World Order cults? Their underground compounds snaked throughout the continent.

Her blood freezing at the thought, she also knew part of her didn’t care. Goddess help her, she was so tired, and so horribly worn out. The long sleep of death, who would care?

Or, waking up on the other side to loved ones seemed more than welcome, just given her probable future. Too bad and so sad, in a bizarre way. From what she could feel clinging to him, the young man would be as movie star sexy as his voice.

Mmm-mmm, he did feel hunk-delicious.

Sacrificed by an evil could-be movie star, to the rise of the New World Order. There was something hideously ironic about that. But she couldn’t think clearly or cleverly what. Just too bad this wasn’t one of her fantasies.

Where he starred as the good guy who wanted her body, wanted her real damn bad. Like Rhett carrying Scarlett up the stairs, bad. Wanted her body as it had once been, and hotly, passionately ravished her. Yeah, too bad.

Everything was too bad. The whole world was too bad, now. She tried to forget about her life, what had been. She tried to forget everyone, everything she’d lost. God, when she remembered, the horror of it all ripped through her, unbearable excruciating pain. Sedona wondered if the blood sacrifice would be as painful.

Most days she wondered how she even stood up, and kept going. Maybe her life, everything she’d endured, would be worth it, if she could save the world. Maybe worth it. Sedona had her doubts. Still, how often had she wished she could save the world, and truly help people? The number of stars in the sky? Oh, how she’d tried her best and with her whole heart. Now, she was just too darn old.

They stopped inside a small empty cavern. Warm, it was luminous enough to see. The cycle settled perfectly, and remained upright.

“We’ll walk the rest of way. Are you okay?” He removed his helmet and turned back to her when she released his waist.

“What are you going to do with me?” She leaned back, stared at his features, handsome and adorable. Almost magical.

“Protect you, angelic one.”

Sedona blinked, his voice inflection utterly unfamiliar to her, not to mention the kindness of his tone. Swinging her leg over, she slid off the cycle. “You don’t want me for some sort of sick blood sacrifice?”

“I am not your enemy, Sedona.” He gleamed a brief smile, then easily dismounted. Opening the compartment, he took out her bag.

She stepped back, and kept staring. “How do you know my name. Or the name I now use?”

“I am on assignment. My sacred duty is to protect you.”

He lifted her bag beneath one arm, then faced her. Reaching out, he removed her hood, his touch extreme gentleness.

“Why?” she stammered, as much from his touch, as by his extraordinarily beautiful eyes. Purple midnight, silvered. He wasn’t merely Earth human. Whoever, whatever he was?

“The future of Earth depends upon it.”

“Are you sure?” Sedona cocked her head as strange tingles seized her flesh.

He smiled, beatific and devilish. “Haven’t you prayed for protection? A protector?”

“Sure, who hasn’t? I’ve also prayed to die.”

“Not time,” he murmured, compassion emanating from him, warm and comforting. “Are you hungry?”

“Always, these days. Haven’t mastered becoming a Breatherian.”

“Me, either. We can eat, rest here for awhile. Then we’ll have to leave. They’re coming for you, Sedona. The Dark Masters of this world.”

“Dark Masters?” She let him take her hand, and walked beside him. “Do you mean the evil leaders of the New World Order?”

“Their Masters. They mistakenly believe if they eliminate Earth of the angelic ones, they will rule.”

“Won’t they? Not saying I am, what you seem to think I am.”

“For a splinter of time, only long enough to remove the entire population of Earth.”

“Another flood?” Sedona’s belly churned. Her head spun. She noticed they moved toward a bubble-like sphere. Somehow her feet stayed with him as he brought her inside. “Do you have a name? Geez, your hand feels strong.”

“All the better to protect you. Winds, Sedona. Unrelenting winds.”

“Oh.” She watched him put her bag down, perform an action that looked like he sealed them within. How silly, her hand felt empty without his.

“Temporary haven,” he explained. “By now, they’ll know I’m here.”

“And you are?” Suddenly lightheaded, she pressed her hand to her forehead.

He shook back flowing sable hair, and grinned, reminding her of Tom Cruise again, his role in Top Gun, not that he actually resembled the actor turned rebel leader.

“Call me Volcano here.”

“Here?”

“On Earth. Better if you don’t know my divine name.”

“Sure,” she half-mocked. “What’s in a name?”

“Frequency. Recognition. When you think of me, practice thinking of me as a human friend only.”

“Right, Volcano. I would have a human friend named Volcano.”

“Don’t a lot of you change your names now?”

“Yep, any tactic to fool big brother and get off the grid.”

He sat down lithely, cross-legged. “My lap?” he invited, smiled intimately, as a friend would.

Once her slight case of shock ended, Sedona shook her head ‘no’.

“Food,” he enticed, reaching into the side pocket of his jacket. Producing two wrapped bars, he held one out to her.

“What is it?” she asked, taking the foil-wrapped, Hershey-sized bar.

“Manna. You’ll like it.”

“Do you mean ‘manna’ from heaven?”

“Yep.” He seemed to taste the word. “Only a different flavor.”

Unwrapping his bar, he bit off a large chunk as if he showed her it would be okay.

Sedona shrugged slightly, unwrapped, then sniffed the creamy bar. The fragrance of coconut made her drool. She took a teensy bite. It was manna from heaven, manna mai tai. She consumed it quickly, licking her fingers afterwards.

When the foil wrapper evaporated from her fingertips, she stared, mesmerized.. “Back to the ethers?”

“Sit on my lap, little girl,” he quipped. “And I’ll give you another one. Different flavor.”

“Little girl!” she began, but he smiled boyishly, waving the bar like a dog treat.

“Why your lap?” she demanded, then glared for good measure.

“I need your frequencies mixed with mine. More effective protection.”

The earnest brightness of his eyes, and her hunger, did her in. Sedona moved closer, and knelt down. After handing her the bar, he reached out, lifting her onto his lap. Tenderly, he positioned her so she faced outward.

“You’re comfortable, Volcano.” Entranced, Sedona watched the gold foil evaporate as she unwrapped the bar. “Good for the environment.”

Tasting, she savored each bite. “Mocha.” Sedona nibbled slowly. “Can’t get this taste without being chipped.”

“I’m not chipped, Sedona. Ship replicator.” He decided on the simplest explanation.

“Space ship?”

“Celestial. Looks like a space ship.”

“Where is it?”

“Not anywhere close to Area 51. Or any ET facility.”

“Are we headed there, Volcano? Your ship?”

“Not yet. It would be too dangerous for both of us.”

“So. Let me get this straight. Dark Masters are after us, not merely their minions.”

“Minions up to Masters.”

“Why not just eliminate the Masters? If you know who they are.”

Sedona let him reposition her, so he basically cradled her on his lap, her head resting on his shoulder. He had to be six foot, at least and brawny enough, but his physique appeared most suited to martial arts. Goddess, it had to be ages since a man actually touched her this way, held her close this way. Man? He was still a boy in her book.

“All in the divine timing. Right now your protection is my duty.”

“Great,” she murmured, feeling a bit drowsy, “just what I wanted to be—someone’s duty.”

“Rest, Sedona. We’ll need to travel a long distance.”

“Where?” she murmured, feeling a relaxation she hadn’t known in years.

“Nowhere. Everywhere.”

“Volcano, you’ve got all the answers,” she whispered, the need to sleep irresistible.

“No, you do,” he whispered.

They required each other on Earth, the joining of their essences, their force greater than the whole. Their synergy would be their salvation. Subtly, he encouraged her frequencies to him, and combined his force with her.

Volcano wasn’t prepared for the sudden jolt of pleasure. He soared fiercely without wings.

He was glad she didn’t know. Her exhaustion prevented knowing, and feeling his pleasure. This time.

As soon as he could, he flashed his awareness back to her vehicle. Agents in SS Black tore it apart, searching like hellhounds. They also scoured with electronic devices, gathering all available DNA.

The woman appeared quickly on the scene, model slim, but of average height. Wearing a black trenchcoat and black fedora, she obviously held a position of high rank. Instantly the team leader approached her.

“Special Agent Chokynkos, only an off-gridder. No evidence of rebel activity. Here is the report so far.”

Special Agent Chokynkos authoritatively gripped the palm device, glanced. “She is a woman of interest to Homeland Central. Where is she?”

“As my report details we believe she was aboard a flyer cycle, behind the rider. They have disappeared. Rider had an escape route planned. We had surveillance until the drones were lost. Drones are up now, searching.”

“If you capture them both alive, your promotion and rise in salary are assured, Team Leader Wilson. If you terminate them consider your position stable. Only within your designated sector, of course. Have the van brought to Base. Continue.”

“Yes, Special Agent. What makes this off-gridder important?”

“Her age. That’s all you need to know, Team Leader.”

“Of course. From the hippy dippy rebellion.”

“I see there is no indication of her destination, Team Leader.”

“No map. No electronic indication or contact found. Is a Psychic reader being used?”

“Being accomplished as we speak, Team Leader. Currently no information that will assist you.”

Volcano pulled his awareness back. Feeling the presence of three remote viewers, he placed a curtain of energy around them, diffusing and confusing their sight.

Something he hadn’t realized, the Masters of Darkness had flagged Sedona’s genetic profile, either as a natural rebel against them, or as a Sixth Senser who used her mental abilities to fight them, and their regime. He knew she battled them psychically, and had viewed her energy creations destroy their evil. What she didn’t realize was her white-fierce effectiveness as an angel incarnate.

Even now, the two Psychics Hunters directed by the Special Agent, could be tracking Sedona, by both her genetic profile and her energy profile.

Closing his eyes, Volcano communed with his Source, a frequency currently untraced by the Masters of Darkness. With guidance received, he placed himself in a state of rest until it was time to leave.

Her dream had been melodic, an overwhelming sweetness of mood.

Scintillating light surrounded her, embraced her lovingly, then the ache began. She didn’t recognize it at first, only as she gradually awakened, and only as the burning intensified. Intensifying to a savage need between her thighs. Her clit burned with an overwhelming need for hot sex and relief.

With her sexual ache making her delirious, Sedona didn’t remember where she was, or what had occurred. Wilder and wilder, she burned, the need so powerful it seemed to own every cell of her. As she awakened fully, she clenched her thighs tight, and suddenly remembered. Oh Goddess, no! He held her, the unusual kind young man. It wasn’t like she could reach down, and pleasure herself to orgasm.

Her eyelids flew open. Frantic, she forced herself not to squirm, but her need scorched out of control, the ache absolutely brutal. “Goddess,” she burst out on a repressed breath. “Sorry,” she whispered, her hand gripping the lapel of his jacket. It felt like leather, strange satin leather. “It won’t go away.”

“Sedona, let me–”

She gritted her teeth, and panted. “Put me down. Turn around, will you?”

“How?” His hand slid beneath the elastic waistband of her heavy knit cargo pants, feeling warm and wonderful on her bare belly. “How do you—”

“No!” she cried out, grabbing his arm.

“I can’t put you down.”

His voice, hot and dark as coffee, flowed over her.

“Why not?” Before she could halt herself, she undulated beneath his hand, spread so deliciously on her belly. Her clit wanted him, horribly and painfully wanted him.

“I can’t protect you from the remote viewers that fast. Let me, Sedona.”

Hot sizzle, his voice, an impossible sizzle. As if she was actually desirable. She let go of his arm. “On top.” She forced the image toward his mind, of what she meant, then hoped. Her awful embarrassment raged as she squeezed her eyelids shut.

Caressing upwards from her belly, he firmly pressed his hand on top of her pants, and between her thighs. Her groan slipped out. Wildly, frenzied, she bucked to the heel of his hand. Goddess! He felt good. Fantasy steamy good!

For long enough she abandoned herself to the feel of his hand pressing down on her clit. All the while ecstasy simmered through her, until she soared into the rapture of nothingness. And floated, captured by her orgasm.

Sedona knew she had to come down. And she didn’t want to, because he would be there. A boy. A man-boy. Excruciating embarrassment waited for her. Damn it, she didn’t want to deal with it. She’d already dealt with everything under the effing sun.

Still, she thumped down. That’s what it felt like. She thumped down, breathing heavily, still laying in his lap, her flesh still humming with pleasure.

She opened one eye. Then both of her eyes popped open. His hand throbbed with orangish, whitish light. She glanced up at his face. What the—?

Shocked, she stared at his pleasured features. His eyes were closed, his mouth curved in a smile of sweet ferocious satiation. Stunned, she waited, and had not a clue what to think, or what to feel.

“Sedona?” he softly questioned.

“Nothing,” she muttered, not sure what to ask about anyway. Her curiosity raced a mile a minute. Questions surfaced like bubbles in champagne. Champagne, the image took over her mind—pouring, the pale amber fizzing, bubbling over the rim of the flute—why?

She shook her head, then rose upwards, suddenly thirsty. “Water. My bag.”

Setting her on her feet, Volcano let go of her, his hands a gentle caress.

Sedona felt his gaze as she opened her giant red bag. Rummaging quickly, she pulled out her bottled water, then drank until her throat no longer felt parched.

“If you don’t mind germs.” She offered him the bottle, and met his gaze.

“Immune, by special dispensation.” Volcano took the bottle, wanting the essence of her in the water, more than the water.

Given the power of his orgasmic bliss with her, he had decided there would be a rule change, by his sacred right to choose it. He wanted earthly pleasures with her.

Standing, he drank, then handed the bottle back to her. She wouldn’t touch his fingertips. “We need to leave. You will have to change garments. I have them on the cycle.”

Sedona took a step back as the bubble sphere dissolved. “What kind of garments?” She thrust the mostly empty bottle back inside her bag, immediately picking it up. Huge freaking surprise, he wasn’t looking at her with disgust, as if she could be his grandmother. She quivered inside.

Volcano took the bag from her shoulder. “Similar to mine, Sedona. Chameleon in nature.” Intentionally he allowed his garments to change, matching the color of their surroundings.

“Cool.” Feeling like a fifth grader, when she’d first discovered the hip word, she’d spoken too enthusiastically. “More protection,” she added in her serious voice, moving beside him as he turned in the direction of the cycle.

“Yes. And more in capability. You’ll learn as we go.”

Sedona stifled the question of ‘go where’ – since he hadn’t answered before. “Remote viewers?” she asked instead.

“Three. Once they found your vehicle. They didn’t see us.”

“But you saw them.”

“Not in detail. I watched the investigation. A special agent showed, direct from Homeland Central.”

“Yeah, they don’t show on a mere off-gridder case. I am in trouble.”

Sedona heaved a sigh. “Better dead than in their bed,” she repeated the popular saying among off-gridders. Too late, the Freudian slip struck her.

However, they approached the cycle, already humming gently, and illuminated. “Alive?” she asked, aware of bio-tech vehicles.

“Spirit alive, created from my essence.”

“Good job.” Instantly she wondered at the appropriateness of her remark, since he seemed like a high being of some kind.

He opened the compartment, placed her bag inside, then opened the compartment on the other side, and withdrew garments similar to his.

Ooooh, bold purple, one of her favorite colors.

“It will fit,” he assured her as if he knew the feminine nature.

He probably does know it. Sedona tingled with the remembrance of what he knew. “Crap!” she murmured, cranky with him, with herself.

She flung off her clothes. What the hell use was it now to ask him to be the proverbial gentleman. Rebellion boiled her blood. Maybe one look at her aged naked body would turn him off.

Then again, maybe his kind didn’t just see the ‘physical’.

Not looking at him, she took the leather-like pants he handed to her. Stepping into the pant legs, she pulled them up. The fabric, leather, whatever the material, conformed to her shape.

“Why purple?” She reached out for the jacket. Glimpsing his gaze, she scowled to herself, quickly shoving her arms inside the sleeves.

Before she could zip up, he stood before her, slowly zipping up the front, almost as if he planned to be her lover, not that she really knew what that felt like anymore. A man who wanted to be her lover.

“Your spiritual aura, Sedona. The color cannot be otherwise, except as you will need it to change like a chameleon, to fit into our surroundings.”

“Oh.” She didn’t ask him how she chameleon-operated the garments, or if she was required to do anything at all. Holy sci-fi!

But Goddess! The fabric felt like the silkiest air around her. She shut her eyes, breathed and simply appreciated. For one moment, she truly appreciated. “Comfortable,” she offered.