Odin (Alien Adoption Agency #5) - Tasha Black Page 0,20

the door panel fifteen minutes ahead of schedule.

She and Odin had spent the day scrambling to complete their work around the farm so that they could go into the woods to search for the predator.

He had gone from quiet and grumpy to downright surly as the hours passed.

She wasn’t sure if it was the missing sheep, or that he disliked farm work, or if it was something she had done, but he was less fun to be around with every passing moment.

True to form, he was stalking to the door and opening it before she could even ask who it was.

“Good evening, your honor,” a girl’s voice said loudly from the doorway. “I’m Cora, Crispin’s daughter, and I’m here to safeguard your child.”

Odin’s eyebrows went up at that, and he stepped back to allow her inside.

In spite of the large voice, she was a tiny, wiry girl, with a cloud of dark hair around her head that matched her freckles. She carried a bag nearly as big as she was slung over one shoulder.

“You must be the baby’s mother,” she said, striding up to Liberty.

“Uh, yes, nice to meet you, Cora,” Liberty said, a little taken aback at the amount of confidence exuding from such a tiny package.

The girl thrust out her arm, as if they were about to go into battle together, and Liberty clasped it automatically.

“I want you to know that I’ll protect your child with my life, madam,” Cora said with a quiet intensity. “I’ve completed the volunteer cadet program with the Lachesis emergency service squad, so I’m trained in infant CPR. I’m also skilled with a bow and arrow and trained in two forms of hand-to-hand combat.”

She patted her bag, which Liberty presumed must contain a bow and arrows. Or possibly the bodies of the girl’s enemies.

“I like her,” Odin said, walking over with an admiring expression.

“If you want a demonstration, grab my wrist,” she invited him, without acknowledging the compliment.

He actually looked torn.

“That’s fine, Cora,” Liberty said quickly, before Odin decided to attack her. “We believe you.”

“Sure,” Odin agreed. But he looked a little disappointed.

“Does the child have any allergies?” Cora asked him.

“None that I know of,” Odin said. “But he’s been exposed to very little.”

“No tree nuts, no stag milk, no myrox seasonings,” Cora said, noting it down.

“Why would he want myrox seasonings?” Odin wondered out loud.

“It’s none of my business why your son wants what he wants, your honor,” Cora said, her holo-pen stopping mid swipe and fixing Odin with a very serious glare. “It’s my business to keep him safe.”

“Damned right it is,” Odin agreed heartily. “What else do you need to know?”

“Does he have any particular fears or phobias?” she asked.

“None that I know of,” Odin said again. “But he gets anxious if you don’t feed him right away when he’s hungry.”

“That won’t be a problem,” she told him. “How many milliliters of formula would you say he eats at a sitting? And does he have any troubles with reflux?”

“I’m just going to grab my things,” Liberty said.

They didn’t even notice her go.

When she returned with her rucksack and cloak, they were talking about the frequency and color of the content of Colton’s diapers.

“Madam, you have nothing to worry about,” Cora said. “Your son will be safe with me.”

“I’m sure of it,” Liberty said with a smile. “I’ve never met a more committed steward.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Cora said proudly.

“We’ll talk more about that consistency you were explaining when we return,” Odin told her.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Cora said. “I’ll be sure to report back to you on any emissions during your absence, of course.”

Odin held out the tiny bundle, showing his confidence in this one wordless gesture.

“He’s lovely,” Cora said, smiling down at Colton and suddenly looking like a regular teenager for a moment.

“Yes, he is,” Liberty agreed. “If you need us, we’re only a transmission away.”

“Thank you, madam,” Cora said, but her eyes never left the baby.

Odin grabbed his duster and they headed out the door.

True darkness had fallen, and Liberty was taken aback by how strange the landscape looked in dim starlight.

“What is it?” Odin asked worriedly.

“Nothing, it’s just… so dark,” she said.

“Dammit,” he said to himself.

“What?” she asked.

“I should have remembered you wouldn’t be able to see,” he told her. “My dragon can see in the dark. Maybe you’d better stay.”

“Not on your life,” Liberty said.

“You want to be out after dark in predator-infested woods?” he asked.

“I’m not going in there to have my bowel movements