Discovery (19 page)

“That’s it.”

“W
HAT's THIS? GOING GRAY IN
your old age, Professor?”

A hearty slap on his back made Kent bite his tongue and almost drop the bottle of temporary hair coloring he had been considering. Kent immediately recognized the voice. Professor Jordan, his boss.

“Professor?” Kent repeated.

“Words out you’re a shoo-in for the opening when Kendall retires next semester,” the older man said heartily. “And you didn’t check your mail or messages, Dr. Xavier? Shame on you.”

Kent’s broad grin turned on full toward the elderly, bespectacled man standing next to him in the drugstore. “Professor Xavier,” he repeated, savoring the sound. “Professor Xavier.” Now that was the title of a man with a tenure.

His future in the city he loved and in the location he picked out was secured. Even if he wouldn’t be teaching in his chosen field of study and research, it didn’t really matter. It was a foot in the door, and with time, persuasion, and funding, Kent felt certain he could convince the board that the University of Oregon, with its ideal location, needed a serious academic program specific to the local environment.

Almost before that very thought finished forming in his head, reality shattered the dream.

Like hell his future was settled! Povre! He’d been gone too long already. And, who knew where his future was going if she couldn’t come out of hiding, or couldn’t ever go home?

The thought of never seeing her again, even if she would be safe, twisted his insides. If she had to stay…maybe he’d buy some land, and live out in the middle of the wilderness where no one would bother them…

Wait a minute. I do have a home out in the wilderness where no one will bother us…just about no one, anyway!

He and his older sister, Kelly, as the only living members of their immediate family, had jointly inherited a parcel of land in the Rockies. His great-greats had built a sturdy cabin there, and each generation of Xaviers had added to it. He hadn’t been there for years. The Cascades of Oregon and Washington were his venue.

But he’d make the switch in an instant if it would mean the difference.

That would be perfect. I’ll call Kelly and…

“Hey, Kent…what is it? Thought you’d be turning cartwheels.”

He came back to earth with a thump, hoping his face hadn’t revealed any clues to the older man’s shrewd stare. “Well, I broke up with Lynn,” he said, fumbling for an explanation. He could just imagine Jordan’s expression if he blurted the truth.
Well you see, I found a breathtakingly gorgeous Sirgel. What’s that you say? You haven’t heard of the newest visitors to our fair state? Well, sir, they’re from a rather distant area of the galaxy and you see, I’ve fallen in love with one of their scientists.

Yeah, right.

“Ahh. So that was your ‘family emergency’. Well son, plenty of fish in the ocean. Give it a few days, maybe you’ll get back together, or find someone else. Mercy Redfern’s always given you the glad eye.”

Kent winced as he thought of the doe-eyed, dark-skinned undergraduate who thought the sun and moon set on Kent’s order. “Lord Have Mercy” Redfern could give any Hollywood actress a run for their money. And she knew it. To her credit, she had a greater interest in climate and tracking mutant pollen strains of the Douglas fir.

“She’s a kid, Professor Jordan. All of twenty. I’m old enough to be her fa—”

“It’s Nick,” interrupted the old man. “We’re colleagues now.” He stuck his ever-present pipe in his teeth. “You’re never too old until they ratchet down the coffin lid, son.” Lit or not, Jordan always had the ornate, hand carved pipe. “And may I suggest you might consider becoming a blond. Blonds have more fun.” He handed Kent a box of Nice ‘n Easy portraying a glamorous model with hair the color of ripe wheat.

“This one claims it’s all natural,” returned Kent as he showed Jordan the label on another package. “Rainforest botanicals. However, the bromeliad extract doesn’t specify what species. Besides, anything natural—besides water—makes up less than eight percent of the ingredients. What rainforest species do you figure they extract the paraphenylenediamine from?”

Jordan grimaced wryly. “Your next project? My wife will be anxious to volunteer as a test subject, I’m sure. See you on the campus, Kent.”

He let out a long breath after the older man left. And then he saw the perfect solution, sitting all alone near the back of one of the shelves in an innocuous little jar.

“Henna, for brunette and brown hair. This one is all natural. And it’s safe…But I better take a couple of these others just in case, anyway.”

He chose several bottles of temporary mousse-in colorant, the type women used just to cast extra sheen or highlights that would come out after a few shampoos. Any of the shades he chose, combined with blue, should produce a color less noticeable than Povre’s natural one. Then again, he might only succeed in turning her the exact shade of spinach soufflé.

“If that happens, I guess I can get her a yellow wig, yellow clothes, and simply say she’s a diehard Ducks fan.” No one would even bat an eyelash. It was just another one of the things he loved best about Eugene.

Kent stopped in front of a selection of talcum powder.. Povre made sure he knew about her preferred manner of getting clean. Talc was a powdered mineral…could it be like her lertz powder? Another experiment they could try. He decided unscented would be best, then on the way out, grabbed several types of brushes and a few cosmetics.

His purchases were rung up by a young clerk in a tank top who wore at least thirty earrings, had grape-purple hair, green fingernails, and an assortment of rings and studs through each eyebrow. An intricately detailed peacock was tattooed on her left arm, the head curled over her collarbone. The lipstick she wore was the exact shade of pale lavender that tinted Povre’s lips naturally.

So what am I worried about?
“I like your sapphire,” he said, nodding to the jewel he noticed on the left side of her nose ring. “Matches your eyes. And that’s a great tattoo.”

The cashier smiled shyly at him as she handed over his change, and angled her arm so he could admire her ink a little more. Kent left the store whistling. After a stop at a nearby Dairy Mart for some food, he hurried back to the motel.

* * * * *

“POVRE?” KENT CALLED.

The place looked as he left it, with one exception. Povre was nowhere in sight.

“Povre?” Panic fluttered in his stomach.

“Here, Kent.”

He whirled around. The foot of the queen-sized bed rose from the floor, and Povre rolled out from beneath, a few dust bunnies caught in her shaggy black hair.

He closed the distance between them and helped her rise. “Why were you hiding? Did someone come?” The look of tense fear on her face alarmed him.

She nodded. “A human female and male came in. I didn’t see them. The female called your name. The male called the female Ms. Eddleston.”

“Lynn!”

“The male said it had all been a mistake and they left.”

“Lynn’s involved?” Kent cursed. “A mistake? I’ll believe it was a mistake the next time Eugene gets buried in two feet of snow.” He sighed. “Well, I got something for us to try.”

She wrinkled her small nose. At his suggestion of dyeing her fur this morning, she looked as thrilled as she did about the shower the night before.

“There’s no choice for it, Povre. We can’t be hiding every second of the day. I have some stuff that’s made out of a plant called henna, and if it makes the right color, we won’t have to use this chemical coloring. Let’s test it, at least. None of it’s permanent. The henna will wear off, and a few good showers will wash this other stuff out.”

“Oh, Kent,” she wailed, sinking to the bed, her slim, long arms hugging her torso. “No more water,” she pleaded.

“We’ll sponge it on. We just need to test some small spots to see if it’s going to work at all, first. This other stuff goes on dry. We’ll just have to dye the spots people are going to see.” He dug through his bags, showing her what else he’d bought. “I got you some talcum powder and brushes, too.”

She watched him for a moment, as if hoping for a last minute stay of execution. But Kent didn’t offer any alternatives.

“I’m sorry.”

She sighed. “What do you want me to do?”

* * * * *

TWO HOURS LATER, KENT
stared at his creation. Where he’d applied the hair coloring, her short, smooth fur was a rich café au lait, with just the right touch of olive, for Povre to pass easily as one of Eurasian, Indian, or Middle Eastern descent.

Only the size and extreme tilt of her eyes and the thick, unusual length of her black lashes tipped the scales far into the exotic range, but the sunglasses he’d bought would help disguise that. Once she donned the baggy clothes preferred by Eugene’s twenty-five and under crowd, and among the students on campus, she wouldn’t raise an eyebrow…unless she happened to run around partially clothed the way she was now. She wore only a towel, one of Kent’s, so the staining process wouldn’t ruin any clothing.

Even though Povre had tried to distract them both by making Kent tell the story of Lynn and his breakup, they both had a hard time not getting aroused. The intimate brushing and touching was almost more than either could stand. Keeping himself focused on applying color and the subject of conversation just wasn’t enough. The tight ache in his crotch had yet to subside. But at long last, he finished, and he studied the results with critical assessment. The henna, unfortunately, wouldn’t take, so after a short test to make sure it wouldn’t burn her, Kent had to resort to the chemical product. He tried to rationalize it was faster anyway. Plus, if he found some jumper cables and something to ground himself and her on, he could wash it out of her with a few good scrubbings.

“I think that’ll do.”

The tint covered her lower legs, arms from just above the elbow, neck, shoulders, and face. He thought that would be enough, since she wouldn’t be running around in public uncovered.

But Povre took one look at herself that way and after a long moment of tight-fisted silence, and obvious struggle to keep herself from the Sirgel version of bursting into tears, let out a soft wail. “I look…” She struggled for the right word. “Ridiculous! I feel embarrass…embarrassed.” Her eyes widened. “Oh, Kent! What if this doesn’t remove?”

He had to agree, although silently, she looked like a badly dipped Easter egg. The chemicals had already given her body fur a harsh, brittle feel. The underlying skin in the treated areas was threatened with dryness. Applying the colorant over the rest of her wasn’t an option.

“It will,” he said with more confidence than he felt.

Povre’s expression of misery didn’t abate with his words. If anything, it increased. The shuddering breath she took made Kent’s heart ache.

Since he couldn’t find more words at the moment, he concentrated on emoting his feelings and appealing as he did the night before to her empathic ability. Kent felt the comforting ambiance he tried to project become something more powerful. He wanted to take her and kiss her and make love to her until the forlorn, lost look became her killer smile. He wanted it to be candlelight and satin sheets. Uninterrupted, by anything, especially the threat they faced now. No matter what she heard, they both knew the hunt was far from over.

His effort had some effect. The dullness that had come to her eyes receded a bit, her deep despair modulated into petulance.

“You look stunning,” tried Kent. It was the truth. He was glad he’d bought the sunglasses, because even if she looked completely human, Povre’s exotic beauty would attract the attention he was trying to avoid.

“I should stun you,” she mumbled. Had Kent insisted he shave her bald from head to toe Povre couldn’t have presented a more wounded and embarrassed picture.

“And unless someone gets very, very, close,” he continued, closing his fingers around her left arm and pulling her between his knees, “they’re not going to see this flawless complexion of yours is anything but human skin.” He caressed her cheek.

“How close?” asked Povre with a pout Ken found irresistible and enchanting.

He put his hands on her slender shoulders, making her lean forward and down until their foreheads touched. “This close,” he whispered, lost in the violet depths of her eyes.