Odin (Alien Adoption Agency #5) - Tasha Black Page 0,31

followed close at his heels as he slipped through the trees toward the farm.

Neat rows of leafy green vegetables covered a field to their right, and a well-worn path on the left led between two rows of trees with puffy flowers.

Odin went left and Liberty followed.

After the two lines of trees ended, they reached a wooden paddock fence.

“Stay by the trees,” Odin warned Liberty.

He crept toward the paddock fence, checking in every direction for a camera or a farmhand.

But the farm appeared to be low tech to the point of being old-fashioned, similar to their own.

Odin gracefully hopped the fence and lowered himself slowly to the ground.

The rails were a little far apart for sheep, but not impossibly far. He searched the wooden posts for the tufts of stray wool that were a sure sign it was a sheep paddock.

Oddly, there were none.

He continued along the fence line, wondering how many paddocks the farmer had.

“Odin,” Liberty’s scream came from the trees.

He spun around to see a massive nar-bull charging him, its single, cruel horn aimed for his chest.

There was no time.

The only thing he could do was shift. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t, but if this thing did him in, there would be no one to protect Liberty and Colton. He wasn’t going to let that happen.

Odin called on the dragon and let down his guard fully for the first time in years.

The dragon roared to the surface, sending lightning bolts of energy through Odin’s limbs.

The paddock was losing color as his sense of smell increased a thousandfold.

“Honna,” someone shouted.

The nar-bull stopped in its tracks, turned, and trotted toward the fence.

With a herculean effort, Odin was able to stop the shift.

As the dragon howled out its agony in his head, he turned to see the farmer offering the odious bull an apple.

“Son, I recommend that you get out of the paddock pronto,” the farmer said casually. “Honna likes an apple as much as the next nar-bull, but if you’re still there when he’s finished, he’s gonna pick up where he left off.”

Odin took that excellent advice and swung himself over the paddock fence and onto the grass.

“That’s better,” the farmer said. “Now what in tarnation are you doing here?”

“We’re so sorry,” Liberty said, jogging up before Odin could speak.

“Oh, howdy there, little lady,” the farmer said pleasantly. “Wait, didn’t I see you feeding your wee one at the feed store?”

“You did,” she said, looking ashamed. “We should have spoken to you there, but we’ve been so worried…”

“What’s wrong?” the man asked kindly.

“This little boy, I just adopted him,” Liberty confided. “Odin and I are supposed to raise and protect him.”

“Isn’t that lovely?” the farmer said contentedly.

“We were given a farm and the most beautiful sheep,” she went on.

“Rainbow sheep,” Odin put in.

“Yes, rainbow sheep,” she said. “They belong to the baby. We’re supposed to use the funds from their wool to pay for his living and his education. But three have gone missing. The marshals don’t know anything. But we overheard at the feed store that you had just upped your order, and, well, I guess we jumped to conclusions.”

“You wouldn’t know anything about our missing sheep, would you?” Odin asked.

Liberty elbowed him mercilessly behind her back where the farmer couldn’t see it.

“Of course he doesn’t,” Liberty scolded Odin. “Would a thief save a trespasser from a bull? Of course not. He would assume you were a thief too.”

Odin opened his mouth and closed it again. It was actually sound logic.

“Thank you, young lady,” the farmer said. “I’m Old Alney.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Old Alney,” Liberty replied. “I’m Liberty, that’s Odin and this sleepy boy is Colton.”

“Good to make your acquaintance,” Old Alney declared. “Now, it seems to me that you two are missing a crucial piece of information.”

“What’s that?” Liberty asked.

“All the rainbow sheep on Lachesis are chipped,” he said wisely. “Let’s go get my scanner and I’ll show you.”

He led the way down the path a little further and they came to a beautiful blue barn.

“Here we are,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

They watched him amble to the barn and come back with a little device in his hands.

“Take that,” he said, handing it to Odin. “Run a scan, like this.”

He showed Odin how to run his finger along the line and tap the wide scan button.

Odin held it out and slowly spun around.

The device lit up as soon as he was pointing it west.

“There you go,” Old Alney said. “Take us to them.”

Sure enough, the