Chapter 12

Life, Theo Petrakos decided, was not cooperating with him at all. It ruined his vacation, trashed his car, dumped unwanted houseguests into his accustomed solitude, threatened his planet, and made him start to care—far too much—about a woman he had no business caring about.

All in about twenty-four hours.

He couldn’t wait to see what the next twenty-four hours would bring.

Invasion and subjugation by something called the Tresh, according to Jorie. Though probably not in the next twenty- four hours. That would take a little longer, she assured him. Like a week. Just when he’d be back on the job.

Oh, joy.

It was almost midnight. Tomorrow, he realized with surprise, was Christmas Eve. Aunt Tootie and Uncle Stavros would be sitting at their kitchen table sharing vasilopita, the traditional Christmas cake with the lucky florin inside. And he was sitting across his kitchen table from the woman he had no business caring about, watching her devour her second first-ever peanut butter and jelly on white bread sandwich with an expression so rapturous it was damned near erotic.

When she lovingly licked stray morsels of peanut butter off her fingers, Theo shoved himself out of his chair and headed for the refrigerator. He needed a glass of something cold. He really needed to pour it over his body, but drinking it would have to do. He reached for a beer but changed his mind and pulled out a can of orange soda instead. He might not be formally on duty, but he needed his mind clear.

*************Later in the story:

He slowed the vehicle as they came to another set of colored lights over the trafficway. "I had to go through the police academy. I was trained to handle weapons. It wouldn’t take all that much for the Guardians to train us."

For the Guardians to train nils? Jorie doubted this entire planet was comprised of people who could handle weapons in the way Petrakos could. But that wasn’t the core problem. "It would take a special edict passed by the council. Then it would take an allocation of funds and of personnel. Things that are currently needed in other areas."

"A temporary expenditure. Once we’re trained, we’re an asset."

"One of limited use. It was a touch of bliss luck one of our scouts picked up zombie emissions in your remote sector. Captain Pietr almost decided against investigating. Do you hear my words? Your world has no purpose for us other than to terminate the zombie herd. Your world has nothing to offer the Guardians, nothing to offer the council."

"We have peanut butter,” he said as he made the turn.

A small smile found its way to her lips in spite of her current apprehension. "So misnamed. They should call it glorious butter."