Destiny Rising

by Siobhan Davis

  The meeting breaks up and people line up to exit the room. Cal and I remain in our seats, waiting for the line to diminish. “I’m worried for you,” I admit, bringing his hand to my lips.

  “Don’t be,” he says, pinning me with a serious look. “Of everyone heading out on combat duty, I stand the most chance of coming back.”

  I know he speaks the truth. His altered DNA equips him with semi-super-human abilities. But he’s no Captain America and blood still flows through his veins. One wrong move is all it will take.

  “Promise me you’ll be extra vigilant,” I whisper, planting my hands on either side of his face.

  “I will.” His warm breath dances over my skin as he whispers in my ear. “Can’t you look into the future and see how it’ll turn out?”

  I resist the urge to snort. How I wish it worked like that. “It’s not that simple, and it’s the one part of my gift that I still have little control over. I’m going to try, but there’s no guarantee I will be able to predict anything.”

  His forehead presses against mine and his breath warms my face as he speaks. “I spoke with Dad earlier, and he said the plans are watertight. The government won’t know we’re coming because the Invincia shield will hide our stealth-craft just outside Novo until the time to attack. When Zane hacks in, shuts down their defenses, and overrides their air fleet, they’ll realize it’s over. Everything will be okay.” His lips brush mine briefly, but the sinister feeling of dread still lingers in my tissues.

  The garden is crammed full of people clutching nightlights, silently uttering prayers. The sparkling nighttime sky is the chosen ceiling for the occasion and the myriad of floating stars casts a magical blanket over the scene below. Lounging against Cal’s chest, his strong arms steady me at the side. My hand is entwined in Lily’s and she holds Deacon close on her other side. Dad stands alongside Cal, his back ramrod straight. A priest, kitted out in full military uniform, recites prayers to the reverent crowd.

  My thoughts never stray from Mom. Now that I understand the reason behind her descent into depression, I wish she were here, so that I could apologize for all the times I resented her, all the times I spoke in anger. Talking with Erin earlier only cemented my loss. That Mom won’t get to see me become a Mom cuts me up inside. I wipe a lone tear off my face and Cal’s arm tightens at my side. I hope you’re at peace, Mom. I love you.

  I blow out my candle and Cal does the same. “Are you okay?” he asks, tilting his head down.

  I sniffle as I nod. “Were you thinking of Amber?”

  “Yeah,” he admits. “And the others I’ve watched die.” His forehead crinkles. I can’t even begin to imagine the horrors he’s witnessed. “I’m glad it’s going to be over soon, one way or the other. I don’t have the stomach for war any longer.”

  Once again, I find myself grateful that Dad chose to send me away. There are enough nightmares to haunt my dreams as it is.

  A hand hooks my arm and I swivel around. “Hey, sister,” T says, angling for a hug. “Missing me much?”

  “Like a hole in the head,” Cal says, before I can even open my mouth.

  “Liar,” T teases. Cal rolls his eyes and I laugh. “I’ve lined up that scan for you. Do you want to come now?”

  “Hell yeah,” Cal says, acting more and more like my official mouthpiece. He cracks a huge grin and I stretch up and kiss him.

  “Lead the way,” I tell T, and we follow him out of the garden.

  Cal and I share gobsmacked expressions. The digital image confirms it. “So, twins it is!” Cal says, beaming proudly and puffing out his chest. I giggle at how ridiculous he looks.

  “Um, guys,” T says, his face contorting weirdly, “not exactly.”

  Two anxiety-ridden faces peer at him. “What do you mean?”

  “I can see the two babies,” Cal says, jabbing the screen with his finger. “Clear as day.”

  “There are two babies,” T says, pinning us with a serious look. “But they aren’t twins.”

  Cal frowns and acute panic takes hold of my heart as I pick up on all that T is feeling. “Explain, please,” I grit out.

  He drags his nails through his hair and shoots out a long breath. “I’m not sure I can explain.”

  Cal stiffens beside me and irritation churns with anger and fear inside him. “T, please,” I beseech, fearful that Cal is about to lose it big-style. “Just tell us what you’re thinking.”

  “There are two babies in your womb, Ariana, but they were conceived approximately three weeks apart. They are developing individually, almost as if the other doesn’t exist. I can’t explain how it’s medically possible, but you have two separate fetuses growing inside you.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Taylor’s admission totally killed the mood in the room, and we left after another few minutes of shocked discussion. The only conclusion we can draw is that one of the babies was naturally conceived, and one is the product of embryonic meddling.

  I feel sick to the pit of my stomach.

  We walk back to our apartment hand in hand, in complete silence, almost incapable of speech.

  “Where’s Ben?” I ask, stepping into our empty apartment.

  “Forgot to tell you. He’s rooming with Jax and Xander now,” Cal says, striding to the overhead cupboard and snatching two bottles of water. Crossing back to me, he places a bottle in my hand.

  I kick off my pumps and scoot up on the bed, propping pillows behind my back. I sip my water as my mind does another somersault. Cal perches on the edge of the bed, his folded leg brushing my bare feet. “What are you thinking?”

  “That no matter how fucked up our lives become, there’s always something much worse waiting around the corner.” I drain the remainder of my drink.

  “I know this is messed up,” he says, pinching the covers under his fingers, “But at least you and the babies are healthy. Taylor said everything looks normal. I think we should focus on that.”

  I can’t help it—I shoot him a scathing look. Rubbing my eyes, I sigh loudly. I open my mouth to speak and then clamp it shut. I don’t think I can articulate all that’s going through my brain right now.

  “Speak to me, baby.” His hand runs up and down my leg.

  “Nothing about this is normal, Cal.” I almost spit the word at him. “It’s … it’s too much to take on board.” My voice cracks and a hacking sob tunnels its way up my throat.

  He crawls up beside me and tugs me into his embrace. Burying my head in his chest, I fist his shirt and try to draw strength from the feel and smell of him. “Let’s not forget that one of these babies is mine. Ours,” he says, his lips pressing into my hair.

  “That’s the only reason why I’m not in that hospital begging T to wrench the other one out of me.”

  Cal sits up straighter in the bed and eases back. “Ariana, I know you don’t mean that.”

  I scoot back, out of his embrace. “Don’t I?” I massage my temples. “You have no idea how sick I feel at the thought that the President’s baby grows inside me. It’s twisted. I feel … dirty inside.”

  “Sweetheart,” Cal says, tilting my chin up with his finger. “It’s also your flesh and blood. And it’s an innocent baby. The circumstances of its parentage are not the baby’s fault.”

  I stare at him numbly, too shell-shocked to allow rational thoughts to filter through. “I need to sleep. Maybe I’ll feel differently in the morning.”

  “Rough with the smooth, remember?” I nod feebly. “We will figure this out,” he says, nuzzling his face in my hair.

  I lie in bed idly listening to Cal humming in the shower. The gurgling noise of the water, and his dulcet tone, lulls me to sleep. I toss and turn all night, agitated, even in slumber.

  My hair is cut in an angular style to the nape of my neck. I’m wearing tan shorts and a plain white shirt as I take it in turns pushing two little boys on swings. One has blonde hair and blue eyes, the other red hair and dark navy eyes. Their exuberant giggles tickle my ears deliciously. “D
addy?” they call out, over and over again. But no one comes.

  I stagger out of bed, hand clutched to my beating chest. Squinting at the clock, I see 4.20 flashing at me through blurry eyes. After splashing cold water on my face, I stand in front of the mirror, my hands gripping the basin. My dream has unnerved me more than I’d like to admit. Was it a dream? Or a vision of the future? Two little boys. I plonk down on the lid of the toilet and hang my head in my hands. They were happy. I was happy. But …

  “Baby? Are you okay?” Cal asks, lounging sleepily against the doorjamb.

  My initial inclination is to tell him I’m fine. But that would be a lie. And I’ve vowed to be honest with him, no matter what. “I’m not sure,” I admit, peeking at him through the gaps in my fingers.

  He crouches down in front of me, taking my hands in his larger ones. “What did you dream?” He knows me well enough to guess what’s disturbed my sleep.

  “I saw our children. Two little boys,” I whisper. A wondrous look appears on his face.

  “Two sons?” Oh God, the look on his face. My heart melts into a puddle of goo. I could’ve told him he’d just been granted eternal life and I don’t think he’d look as awestruck. “See, everything is going to be fine.” Leaning in, he kisses me and the soft caress of his lips soothes me in every place that needs to be comforted.

  Perhaps he is right. It’s my baby and Cal will be his dad, no matter who his biological father is. And isn’t that what I’ve been saying all along about the situation with Deacon? That Dad is his dad irrespective of his genetic makeup because he is the one that has been there for him through thick and thin. The President may well be the sperm donor for one of my children, but he will never be my baby’s father.

  And I can’t afford to become distracted by this latest drama. Not with everything else that’s going on. So I decide to compartmentalize. Shutting the baby dilemma away firmly in the back of my mind, I decide it’s a problem for another day.

  “You’re right,” I tell him, sliding my hands through his hair.

  “I usually am.”

  He smirks and I tug his hair. “No one likes a know-it-all.”

  “Just as well you love me then,” he says, rubbing his tongue very distractingly over his lips.

  “Lucky for you that I do,” I say, pulling him up with me as I wrap my arms around his waist. “And if you’re really lucky,” I tease, trailing a finger slowly down his chest, “I might just show you how much I love you.”

  My feet go out from under me as he scoops me up in his arms, as if I’m weightless, and I shriek as he strides out of the bathroom and dive-bombs on the bed. Two minutes later, all laughter is silenced as we prove to each other how much we truly belong together.

  “I’m proud of us,” I tell him the next morning, as we get dressed. He arches a brow. Flicking his hand out of the way, I start to button his shirt up. “For dealing with the baby situation so maturely.”

  I’m not going to pretend that I’m one hundred percent okay with it, but I’m coming to terms with it far quicker than I would’ve thought possible. Perhaps it’s because I already feel such a strong connection with my babies, I think, rubbing a hand over my exposed stomach. And the most important thing is that they are both okay, ten fingers and toes, everything in working order.

  Smiling, he plants a light kiss on my forehead. I can’t resist licking his chest before I close the top button. He jerks and my happy place goes crazy. “Thank you,” I say, standing on my tiptoes and planting a quick one on him. I wiggle my dress up my body.

  “We’re so good together,” he says, snaking an arm around my waist. “No matter how things pan out, Ariana, please believe me when I say that I’ll love both our boys equally.”

  “Ssh,” I say, placing a finger to his lips. “I already know that. I feel so lucky to call you my husband.” Tears glisten in my eyes.

  “Keep talking like that and we’ll never make it out of this room today.”

  His fingers tug at the hem of my dress but I swat them away. “Behave yourself. We both have meetings to attend.”

  As expected, Cal has been assigned to front line duty. He leaves tonight. A pang of anxiety fills me with dread. I can’t stop him doing this so I’ll just have to get over my natural concern. Calista has summoned me to a meeting this morning, and I’m curious to find out what else is expected of me.

  Dragging Cal to the cafeteria is a momentous achievement considering he’s all grabby hands today. But I’m not going to chastise him. We’re on the brink of another separation, and I need to take my fill of him as much as he wants to drown in me.

  We take seats beside Mel, Lily, and Deacon, and our table quickly fills with the rest of our friends. I stiffen when Zane plops into a seat across the table from us. I don’t know if it will ever feel right to be natural with Cal in his presence.

  Strong feelings of longing and pain attack my senses. But they’re not from the direction I’m expecting. Mel exudes a whirlwind of potent emotions. Judging by the sneaky looks that she shoots Zane’s way, I’m assuming her feelings are directed at him. She spots me staring and her cheeks darken. Poor girl. Afflicted with the same condition I suffer from.

  Cal sits upright in his seat and I look at him as he pins his sister with a WTF expression. Uh-oh. I’m not surprised that he’s picked up on the vibes. Mel’s as obvious as a swan in the middle of a pigsty. I look over at Zane, head bent over his cereal. He’s totally oblivious to the undercurrent in the air.

  “Heads up, Zane. Trouble’s brewing.”

  His head flips up and his eyes astutely assess the situation immediately. “It’s not what you think.”

  “You don’t need to explain anything to me. Mel’s a sweetheart and if there’s something going on, then I’m thrilled for you both.” And I genuinely mean that. I feel nothing but happiness at the thought that something might be developing between them.

  Zane lets his guard down for a split-second, and his heartfelt pain punches me in the gut. He still suffers because of me. I push my plate away, appetite vanquished on the spot.

  “Ari, I’m happy you’re happy, and I’ve come to terms with the end of our relationship. But I’m not ready to move on yet. I’ve tried to explain that to Mel, but she doesn’t understand, and I’ve hurt her. That was the last thing I wanted to do.” He pushes his plate away and stands.

  “You don’t have to leave.”

  “Yeah, I think I do,” he says, glancing in Cal’s direction. “He doesn’t need any other reason to hate me.”

  Mel watches Zane’s retreating back like a stalker in training. I’d previously suspected she had a crush on Zane, but I was way off the mark. Her feelings run much deeper than that. I risk a peek at my husband. His eyes have narrowed to slits and I sense there’s going to be hell to pay.

  “Mel,” Cal says, as everyone gets ready to leave. “A word, please.” We hang back after bidding the gang goodbye. Her eyes beseech me and I shrug to convey my helplessness. I’ll stay and try to keep him calm but there’s no guarantee.

  “Do you mind explaining to me why you’re drooling over Zane Anders like he’s sex on legs?” he hisses.

  Mel and I sync the blushing.

  “That’s none of your business, Cal.” Mel thrusts her hair over her shoulder and straightens her shoulders in an act of defiance.

  “You’re my little sister!” He slams his fist on the table. “Of course, it’s my business.”

  I place my hand over his. “Cal,” I say, pinning him with a look. “Nothing is going on. I think you’re overreacting.”

  Fire blazes behind his eyes as he glares at me. “Don’t tell me I’m overreacting. First you, and now my sister!” He takes turns glowering at both of us, and that flips my bitch-switch into stratospheric mode.

  “You listen to me, buddy,” I say, drilling a finger into his chest. “We have dealt with major crap in a calm, mature manner. You,” I say, digging my finger into his flesh to doubly make my point, “are not going to get a
ll Neanderthal Man on Mel because she likes a boy. Understood?”

  An amused grin curves up the corners of his lips as his anger melts away. “You have no idea how much I’m turned on right now,” he growls.

  “Jesus, Cal!” Mel shrieks, hopping up. “I think I need to bleach my brain. Ugh.” She shakes her head but winks at me conspiratorially as she walks past.

  Cal drops me off at the entrance to Command Center, planting a scorching, lingering kiss on my mouth before he goes. I float into the room, a dreamy smile playing on my lips. Calista wiggles her fingers at me, and I follow her into the small meeting room.

  “Thank you for agreeing to work as go-between,” she says, pulling out a chair for me.

  I sit down, propping my elbows on the table. “No problem. I’m happy to do whatever I can to help.”

  “I was hoping you would say that.” She pours water from a jug into two glasses and hands one to me. “Congratulations on your marriage, by the way. I trust you are keeping well,” she adds, elegantly gliding into the chair beside me.

  “Very well, thank you.” My throat works overtime as I drain my drink in one go.

  She sits up ramrod straight in her chair and angles toward me. “I was hoping you might be able to tap into your visions and see if our plan is likely to succeed. We are cementing our strategy today. If you identify any issues, I’d like to be in a position to make last minute changes.”

  “I’ll try but it’s the one part of my gift that I don’t have full control of yet. If it’s all right with you, I’d like to go back to my apartment. It’s quieter there and it’ll be easier for me to blank my mind and focus my thoughts.”

  “Very well,” she says, rising gracefully. “If you could attend to that immediately, then report back in a couple of hours to start working with Ben.”