Page 18 of The Alien Reindeer's Bounty
Mads stood outside the red brick warehouse that had seen better days. The last time Mads saw his uncle, he had been a practicing neurologist at the university hospital. Today, it appeared his uncle squatted in an abandoned building. The glow of electric lights illuminated the edges of the heavy paper covering the windows.
At least Karl had power.
Standing at the heavy iron door, Mads inspected the peeling paint and the padlock before knocking. No response, not that he expected one. When focused, Karl’s work absorbed him. The male seldom took breaks to rest or eat, let alone do something as trivial as answer the door for his nephew.
Mads lifted the padlock and found it was not terrestrial in design. The bottom twisted to reveal a thumbprint scanner.
Perhaps Karl wasn’t living in squalor after all.
Pressing his thumb to the device, the door unlocked and swung open, revealing a cluttered but otherwise clean industrial interior.
“You don’t happen to have a scan of your brain, do you?” Karl bent over a workbench, not looking up as he spoke, his antlers on full display.
“Your antlers,” Mads said, averting his eyes. He had not worn his antlers in public since he was a calf and had little control over his shifting abilities. Displaying antlers was an activity reserved for the most intimate of relationships unless one had shifted into their four-legged form. He had never seen his father’s antlers and here his estranged uncle was, shamelessly parading in his prongs.
“It’s just us bulls here,” Karl said. “Don’t you ever let your horns out? It’s very relaxing.”
“No. Never.” Sometimes he partially shifted at the end of a long day to relieve the pressure of a headache, but never casually and never with another person present. The only person who had ever seen his antlers was Odessa, long ago.
“Stress will ruin you. Try not being so uptight. Now, did you bring me your brain scans?”
“You didn’t ask for any, so no.”
“Shame. I guess I’ll make do with your juvenile scans.” His uncle finally stood, stretching to his full height. The male only stood an inch shorter than Mads. Strange. Karl had always been a towering figure in his memories, the male who dominated their lives and brought them to Earth. Now Karl was simply an older bull, thinner in frame and graying, no longer a commanding presence. Oddly, this revelation pained him.
“You have scans of my brain?” Mads couldn’t recall subjecting himself to Karl’s research. “When?”
“When you slept, obviously. Now, let’s get a look at you.” Karl grabbed Mads firmly by the chin and turned his head from side to side. Up close, Mads could see the red in Karl’s tired eyes. “Any headaches?”
“Some,” he admitted.
“Insomnia? Loss of appetite? Silly question.” Karl jabbed Mads in the side with a bony finger.
“Watch it,” Mads snapped.
“Wow, that’s all muscle. I remember when you were nothing but skin and bones.” The old bull gave an appreciative pat. “Trouble focusing?”
“I could ask you the same.”
Karl laughed, the rasping sound sending a chill down Mads’ spine. His uncle had changed during his years alone, and not for the better. Arne had always said his brother was obsessed to the point of being deranged but Mads paid little attention to his father’s drunken ramblings. Perhaps he should have listened.
“Have you been in contact with your bonded?”
Mads backed away from Karl’s poking and prodding. Years of conditioning, of specialized training and punishment, urged him to deny the bond. Reilendeer did not bond with humans. How often had he been told that what he felt was a symptom of mental instability or his imagination?
Yet Karl’s simple question recognized Mads and Odessa’s bond. It eased a burden in his heart that he did not realize he carried until it had been lifted. His bond with Odessa was real and seen.
“We spoke,” Mads said.
“And did your symptoms ease or grow more severe?”
“Eased at first and then returned.” His head throbbed all night and his entire body ached to where he shifted to his four-legged form. Curled up on the floor, he finally managed to sleep.
“Excellent. How are your accommodations?” Karl spun away and grabbed a device off the nearest workbench. “Stand over there.”
“The house is acceptable.” Mads moved to the spot his uncle indicated, marked with tape on the concrete floor. He did not have to ask if Karl knew the house was next door to Odessa. Little got by the old bull. He knew.
“Do not move.” Karl hit a series of buttons on the device and three panels descended from the ceiling, surrounding Mads. The panels rattled and hummed, presumably as it scanned him.
