Dak was part of him. He felt what Dak felt. There was no pride emanating from Dak seeing those bleeding, cut-up bodies. He mourned for them, maybe even more than John had.
A hand grasped his chin, forcing John’s face forward. He dared not open his eyes to see whose.
Think, John, think.
What reason would Dak have to murder people?
He has a fascination with blood.
No, but there’s more. This perpetrator has a fascination with pain. With control. With women. Human women. None of the women had Ambients inside them and they’d all been raped.
They’d. All. Been. Raped.
“DNA!” John shouted. “I can prove Dak is innocent. Take a DNA sample. If my DNA matches what you found on the victims, I’ll lay here and let you rip him out of me. No struggle.”
“It will take a month to confirm.” Agent Clark’s breath wafted across John’s face. Way too close. “I’m not taking a chance it will kill again.”
“Fuck that!” John scrunched his eyes tighter. “That’s just red tape and you know it. They can do it in a week, two weeks tops. Throw me in jail until the results come back. I’ll come willingly.”
His skin began to prickle along his jawline. His cheek began to shake.
Deep within, a blade seemed to cut along the edge of his lungs, searing and burning a line beneath his ribcage.
*John, it hurts. John!*
“Don’t do this. Please!” The sensation of a thousand needles pierced John’s mouth. He cried out and his eyes flared open.
“Gotcha,” Clark mumbled.
Crimson light seared John’s retinas.
He fell to his knees, blinding red immobilizing him. A scream echoed through his brain. His or Dak’s? Maybe both.
“Please!” John sobbed. “A week. Just give us a week to prove he didn’t do this.”
Something popped in his chest, like his own grasp on life shattered within him.
*Can’t. Breathe.* Dak’s voice seemed faded. Distant.
I’m sorry, Dak. I’m so sorry.
One of the men holding John released his grip. The light disappeared abruptly, leaving ghostly, blinding orbs in its wake. The pain and pressure stopped.
“Dak,” John whispered, falling to the floor and grabbing his chest. “Dak, please tell me you’re still in there.”
The sting subsided in his eyes but a mass seemed to hang within him, as if Dak had tensed every muscle and died clinging to his host.
Dak?
John’s eyes cleared.
Clark pushed Agent Green away from him. “What the hell are you doing?”
“He’s right,” Green said. “We’re supposed to uphold people’s rights, not be judge, jury and executioner without all the evidence.”
“The accord clearly states that even the hint of suspicion is punishable by nullification.”
“The accord is wrong,” Green said.
Dak, answer me. Please.
“So, what would you have me do, let that thing go free?”
“No. I expect you to do the right thing. We have no leads other than Peters. None.”
“Which is why I want to end the problem. Now.”
Agent Green stepped between John and the man holding the extractor. Why was this Fed protecting him?
A sharp pain riddled his chest, as if the killer had claimed his next victim by cutting out part of John’s ribcage. A dull, aching cry shrieked from his lips as his vision succumbed to erratic bright starbursts. The pain faded into pressure and an intense need. John opened his mouth and breathed as if he’d never tasted air before. He released the breath and took another as his sight slowly returned.
“That thing just latched back onto him,” Clark said. “I almost had it out.”
Green yanked the extractor from Clark’s hands. “If we find proof this alien is the murderer, I’ll extract him myself.”
“And who makes sure it doesn’t kill again in the meantime?”
Green straightened. “I will, and he’s not going straight into lock-up. I have questions.” He glanced down at John, his brow furrowed, his eyes glossed with concern. “Not to mention that now he has some extra incentive to help us.”
That was the understatement of the century. John coughed, holding his chest.
*John, are you all right?*
Dak! Thank God.
*Just keep breathing deep like that.*
Like he had a choice.
John took in another breath. His head reeled as Agent Clark dragged him from the Sergeant’s office and into an interrogation room.
52
Something crashed downstairs, jolting Tracy from her stupor. She stuck her head out the door and called, “Laini, are you okay?”
“Yup. Dropped a plate. Sorry.”
“You’re cooking?”
“A girl’s gotta eat. You want a Pop-Tart?”
Tracy grinned. Cooking, apparently, was a relative term. “Sure. I’ll be down in a minute.” Sitting on the edge of her bed feeling sorry for herself wasn’t doing her any good, anyway.
She threw on a comfortable pants-set and headed downstairs.
Laini’s eyes widened as Tracy entered the kitchen. “You look like you got hit by a truck.” Her jaw dropped. “Oh, shit on a cracker. Please tell me I didn’t say that to a girl who actually was hit by a truck a couple months ago.” She held out a napkin with a Pop-Tart perched on top. “That earns you the last chocolate frosted. I can have a strawberry.”
Tracy slumped into a chair and waved her arms. “It’s okay. I probably do look like I was hit by a truck.”
“You didn’t break up with the cute cop, did you?”
“No.” Not yet, at least. Tracy rubbed her forehead. “Laines, things are so weird. I went to sleep last night and everything was fine, but I woke up in the bathroom with my head hanging out the window.”
Laini set a cup of coffee in front of Tracy. “Let me get this right, you’re sleepwalking now?” She sat down. “Hon, this is getting to be too much. I wish you’d see a doctor. Post-traumatic stress, or whatever, isn’t anything to mess with.”
“It’s nothing like that.”
“Yeah, that’s what they all say on the cop shows, and the next thing you know, the roommate is locked in a closet calling 911.”
Tracy laughed. “Maybe I should talk to someone.” But she couldn’t talk to the federal agents, and John wouldn’t hang around long if she was so negative all the time. He’d been a dream about it all, but what guy wants to take on such baggage? She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Hopefully Dak wouldn’t give up on Adonna. Otherwise, she and John were through.
Tracy grabbed the coffee and took a sip.
No. She wouldn’t tell John about this. Not yet, at least. She was a grown woman and this crying and feeling bad for herself had to stop. Things could be worse. She could be in a casket right now, but she wasn’t. She had a second chance. She needed to re-learn how to live, knowing that she wasn’t only one person anymore.
Like John said, he was proof it can work out. She needed to accept her new normal and move on.
She straightened and a sense of calm settled over her. If that came from Adonna, it better be real because Laini was right. If she didn’t get a hold of herself, she was going to need a psychiatrist. Or worse.
53
John picked at his nails and shifted his weight on the uncomfortable chair. He glanced at the mirror on the wall to his right. Who would be watching from the room hidden within? Sergeant Biggs? The Feds? And who would they send in to interrogate him? If it was Clark, the asshole was about to get an earful.
He drummed his fingers on the long, simulated wood table. How many times had he left people waiting in this room to make them uneasy before they were questioned? He took in a deep breath, enough for both him and Dak, then let it out slowly. He wouldn’t give in to the anxiety this room was created to promote.
“Dak,” he whispered, but glanced at the mirrors. They could be listening
already. Where’d you go last night? What did you do?
His friend’s essence twisted within.
Come on. Before they come in here, we need to get our stories straight.
*You think I killed those girls.*
Tell me that you didn’t.
*I didn’t!*
Then where did you go? Where have you been going every night? Why do I wake up in the morning feeling like I haven’t slept in a week? He slammed the desk and sat back.
*I’m sorry.*
John tensed. For what?
*Making you tired.*
Was he talking around the question on purpose? I’m still waiting for an explanation.
*I didn’t mean for it to happen.*
John’s stomach plummeted. God, Dak. Please tell me where you’ve been.
*I’ve been watching her.*
John straightened. Watching who?
*Adonna. Well, Tracy, but I was there for Adonna.*
I’m still waiting for that explanation.
*She’s mine. It’s my responsibility to protect her while she rests.*
John rubbed his eyes. Are you telling me you went to Tracy’s house and watched them sleep every night?
*Yes.*
“Why, exactly?”
*Until we can lie together and join properly, one should watch over the other while they rest. It’s what my kind does.*
John rubbed the back of his neck. And you’ve been hijacking my body to do it?
*I’m sorry. I didn’t think you would understand.*
Why the hell didn’t it knock you out every day? I thought it was hard to take someone over?
*Not so much when they’re asleep.* Dak twitched twice. *I didn’t think it would be that long. I thought she’d be stronger by now, and you and Tracy would be cohabitating.*
Cohabitating? You mean sleeping together.
*Yes. If you embrace while you sleep, Adonna and I can meld.*
Meld? A conversation for another time. Okay, I get that you’re attracted to Adonna. I respect that, and I don’t pretend to know what your kind does when they’re dating or whatever. But can you honestly tell me that’s where you’ve been every night?
*Yes. I swear it.*
John wasn’t sure what an alien would swear on but the force within him swirled naturally. John couldn’t sense anything that would make him think Dak was lying.
I sure hope it was worth it.
Dak roiled. *She yelled at me. Told me to leave. That I wasn’t right.*
What? Who?
*Adonna. She leaned out of Tracy’s window.*
John shook his head. No wonder Adonna was struggling to regain her strength. She’d been trying to fend off Dak every night.
*I never tried to touch her. Not without you. I guess I just hoped…*
The door opened, and Agent Green entered. He held up a white cotton-headed swab. “I’ll need to get that DNA sample.”
John nodded and opened his mouth. Green wiped the swab along the inside of his cheek before clicking the sample into a plastic box. He handed it through the door before pushing against the lock until it clicked.
“Why’d you help me?” John asked.
“Because extraction is wrong. That being inside you is a US citizen, no matter what Clark thinks of their species.” He sat opposite John. “I’m interested in getting your insight on our case.”
“Why? I’m a suspect.”
Green pulled out his cellular and swiped his thumb across the screen as he read. “You majored in criminal psychology before you joined the police department.”
“Yeah, so?”
The agent glanced at John, then back to his phone. “Decorated five times while still considered a rookie cop. Recognized three times for your assistance with ongoing investigations, hailed as a hero twice, at least one of which we could tie in to your Ambient.”
“Entity.”
Green raised his brow.
“He prefers to be called an entity.”
The agent seemed to ignore the comment but John knew better. He could sense the guy’s wheels turning.
What are you looking for, Green?
“You were promoted to detective at twenty-nine and your partner seems to think you walk on water.”
John stared at him, waiting for the punch to the chest that would take him off guard.
The agent smiled and set his phone down on the table. “You’ve spent more time studying the unknown suspect than anyone else. Taking you off the case was a mistake. I want you to look over the new case files. You might see something we missed.”
Now that was unexpected.
John paused, waiting for a “but” that didn’t come. He had his own doubts, though. The case the agents had taken from him was no longer his chief concern. “You have my complete cooperation, but I need to ask you—when that DNA test comes back negative, is Dak out of danger?”
Green glanced at the mirrors and edged closer. “I doubt it. Clark is a great agent, but he’s not too fond of sharing Earth.”
John sat back. “Not good enough. I want it, in writing, that Dak and I will both be cleared by that DNA sample.”
Sighing, Green tapped the edge of the desk. “Even if I get that for you, it’s only a piece of paper and you know it. We have seven days to prove without a shadow of a doubt that the being inside you was not involved. Then you have my personal guarantee that I will do everything in my power to keep Clark and Evans at bay.”
But Green was low man on the totem pole. This kid had no authority. John might as well be making a deal with his neighbor’s lapdog. He could feel the tendons in his neck harden.
Green leaned closer. “I know what you’re thinking, but this is your only option.”
John glanced at the mirror and exhaled. The kid had their balls in a vice.
*Can we trust him?*
“Dak wants to know if we can trust you.”
The agent’s eyes widened, and he shuffled closer. “You can actually talk to it, just like that?”
He nodded. “Answer the question. Can we trust you?”
John latched onto his gaze. He wanted to look into the kid’s eyes when he answered. The words meant nothing, but intent always surfaced in the pupils and in the body language if you knew how to look for it.
Green met his gaze. Steady. Unwavering. “Right now, I’m probably the only person you can trust.”
54
Laini slammed her fist on the number pad beside her keyboard. “Dagnabbit!”
Tracy slipped into the seat across from her at the kitchen table. “I may be wrong but I’m pretty sure that’s not the way a keyboard works.”
Her roommate massaged her temples. “I stinking hate this program. My boss asked if I could do a pivot table and like an idiot I said, ‘sure, no problem.’ I have no freaking clue what I’m doing.”
“Did you Google it?”
“Of course. Google is my life. I just can’t figure out what to drag where to get the results I need.”
Something fluttered within Tracy’s chest and she stood. “Well, how hard can it be?”
Very hard, she knew that. Why so many people still insisted on using spreadsheets over databases was beyond her. But her mom always called her a natural-born button pusher, so she might as well give it a try.
“Let me see.” Tracy leaned over Laini’s shoulder and perused the mish-mosh of undecipherable numbers on the screen. “Yeah.” She nodded. “I think you’re doing something wrong.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
Tracy’s right hand twitched then twitched again. The second time it moved toward the mouse, but sprang back, as if thinking better of it. Was it possible that…
Adonna, have you done pivot tables before?
Her chest fluttered again.
Tracy hadn’t exactly been nice any time Adonna made herself known. Was she in there now, wanting to help but afraid of Tracy getting angry again?
I’m not afraid. It’s okay. Show me how to fix it, i
f you can.
After three heartbeats, she reached for the mouse with her right hand and the keyboard with her left. A few strokes later, Laini’s pivot table was gone. Adonna highlighted the base data and clicked Insert Pivot Table. Tracy’s hands became her own again. Wow.
She cleared her throat and turned to Laini. “What are the results you need?”
“I need the sum of purchases and quantity of purchases to a given vendor.”
Tracy’s fingers started to click. Ten seconds later, the data appeared.
Laini gaped. “No friggin’ way! I’ve been sitting here for two hours, and all this time you knew how to do that?”
Adonna whirled while Tracy shrugged. “Lucky guess, maybe. It works off the same principles as a database. You just need to tell it what to do.” Which seemed logical enough. More logical than an alien inside her, anyway.
“You’ve saved me a crapload of work! Thanks so much!”
Adonna jittered, shimmering toward Tracy’s stomach.
Tracy grabbed the edge of the table. Would she ever get used to such an odd sensation? She stepped back from the computer. “You should save this and refer to it later. Just drag what you want to calculate into this field.” She pointed at the screen. “It’s not really that complicated.” And it wasn’t, now that someone else showed her what to do.
Slipping back into her seat, Tracy sipped her latte.
“Rock on!” Laini fist-pumped into the air. “I can change the data, too. This is awesome!”
Tracy exhaled, releasing some of her tension. This was the kind of relationship John had with Dak. This she could live with: an unseen friend, someone with different life experiences and willing to help. But the Jekyll and Hyde stuff still made Tracy want to run for cover. She needed explanations. She needed to understand this non-corporeal person inside her.
There was probably a perfectly good reason to be hanging out of the window during a torrential downpour. At least she hoped there was.
She ran her hands through her hair. In a year, she and Adonna would probably be laughing about all this together. At least she hoped they would be. But part of her still needed reassurance.
She grabbed her cell phone. “I need to make a call,” she told Laini, and walked toward the front of the house.
Invaded Page 25