Your Planet or Mine? by Susan Grant Page A

of course he wouldn’t know that name. She’d given it to him. But she’d ask some questions only Peter would know. “Where were you when I first saw you?”
    He stepped forward. She stepped back. “Is this a test?” he asked.
    “Of course it’s a test. Answer the question, or we’re done. Where did I first see you?”
    “I was hanging from a branch in a tree outside your dwelling. You freed me.”
    Another wave of dizziness came over her. She looked in his eyes, hoping one last time to see a stranger. She didn’t. She saw Peter. Adulthood had gifted him with a great mouth, just the way she liked them: wide with a friendly tilt at each end, with lips thin enough to be masculine, and luscious enough for long, deep, curl-your-toes kisses. That was, if he knew how to use that mouth. Don’t go there, Jana, not now .
    He stepped forward, and again she stepped back. “If you’re an alien, where did you put your spaceship?”
    “At the site of my original landing at your habitat.”
    “You mean at the ranch? You left your spaceship at the ranch? ” It was the very last thing her family needed now. In her mind, the headlines roared: Jaspers Summon Aliens For Secret Meetings. Public Trust Erodes Further.
    “Yes. I hid it using invisibility technology. Just as my science vessel was hidden many circuits ago—many years ago, rather—when I first visited your world with my father. But I landed under attack. My pursuer found my ship and nearly vaporized it. But I got him back. I don’t think he’ll be flying his ship any time soon, either.”
    “You’re stranded here?” Don’t yell, Jana. Use your quiet voice .
    “Until I can figure out another way home, yes.”
    Suddenly, the world exploded into blinding white light.
    The man-who-would-be-Peter grabbed her, pushing her out of the way as something whizzed by her jaw with a breathy shriek.
    The next thing she knew, she was lying on the asphalt with Peter’s heavy body crushing her. “Assassin,” he hissed in her ear.
    His hot breath made her shiver. “Get off—”
    He pressed his glove over her mouth. “He’ll hear you. And then he’ll kill you.”
    Kill? Assassin? The odor of hot metal and burning rubber seeped into her rattled mind. Her vision cleared. Silvery dots littered the ground like mercury. But it wasn’t mercury; the drops were cooling off too fast, solidifying. It was molten metal.
    She followed the trail of silver to the door of the car next to her—a late-model SUV. The front looked normal, the rear looked normal, but a jagged, smoking line ran from top to bottom down the center. Something popped. Then, with a horrible creaking, cracking sound, the two halves of the car collapsed outward and smashed to the pavement.
    Real terror, sharp and cold, shot through her. The car had been sliced clean through. What kind of weapon cut through a car like a hot knife through butter?
    Another burst of light ripped apart the pavement, only inches from where they hid. Chunks of gooey asphalt flew into the air. The bitter smell burned her nose and eyes. Halo2, aka Peter, twisted around and returned fire. People screamed from somewhere farther away in the parking lot.
    Jana shook from fear—of getting hurt or killed, definitely; but running a close second was the fear of seeing the headlines in the newspaper in the morning: Jasper Taken Hostage—Was It Staged To Deflect Public Scrutiny From The Ongoing Investigation? She moaned. There were times when the best publicity was no publicity, and this was one of them.
    Halo2 hauled her off her feet. “Keep your head down!”
    He dragged her with him down the row of cars. Somehow she held on to her shopping bag and purse. His gloved hand pushed on the back of her head every time she tried to take a look around. Another flash of light, and the air snapped with static. He threw open a car door and shoved her behind the wheel. “Get in!” he ordered.
    “This isn’t my car—”
    “In!”
    “I don’t have