Misunderstood Miracles

by Norma Jeanne Karlsson

  “I get it,” he huffs. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you this, but Alannah changes things here in Canyon Nine. I promise you she’s the only one. None of the other bearers are gonna get a surprise like her. Hope can be a dangerous thing, Drake.”

  I take a moment to appreciate him not calling me by my number. It feels good. Better than it should since it’s not my real name, but it’s a name nonetheless.

  “Does it seem weird to you that all of us have no one?” I ask tentatively, glancing at Alannah’s door.

  “Sage Development…those fuckers make sure you all have no one to go back to. I’m sorry, Drake.”

  I turn a pained glare to J and find him truly sorrowful as he passes along lies. But he believes them. J doesn’t know how we got here anymore than the bearers do. I know his memory hasn’t been wiped. He remembers his daughter. So why the fuck is he here?

  “Why’s Alannah alive then?” I whisper.

  “I’m guessin’ it’s because of Deacon. He went to medical school with Doctor Slone. It’s possible it’s just a coincidence, but I don’t believe in shit like that.”

  Coincidence is the fool’s term for ‘I don’t understand’.

  I can hear Sorcha’s words in my ear. I swear her warm breath is tickling the shell. So much so that I look in her direction, only to find nothing. An empty space that my heart is trying to fill.

  “So why is he with her?”

  “Slone must’ve sent him to find her once Canyon Nine rescued you. If you and Alannah had broken up, Sage Development probably missed her. Maybe they really fell in love. I don’t know. But I’m pretty sure Deacon’s with Alannah because Slone placed him in her life,” he whispers the last part so quietly; I have to strain to pick it up.

  I know that’s not what happened. Deacon stole her from the bunker. He’s not with her by coincidence. My mind is swirling as I think through my time with Alannah before Sorcha’s land came under attack. Is it possible Canyon Nine was watching us? Could they have bugged my SUV and heard our conversation about unprotected sex? Did they wait for me to have sex with her before they attacked?

  As my mind races, I feel the answers creeping through my veins. I was set up. I don’t know how, but they set me up. I’m not here by chance. This was a calculated mission by Canyon Nine to capture me and harvest my son.

  Nordstrom.

  Chann bought the Tahoe and then went to buy shit for Alannah. He said he had to shake tails from there. That’s where they bugged the SUV. We were in such a rush we didn’t think to sweep it. And I guess those attempts to take out contracts on me were just to get confirmation of my shields. Canyon Nine knows more about my life than I gave them credit for.

  Fuck.

  “She was mine,” I mumble.

  “I see that,” he agrees. “You two don’t remember each other, but it’s obvious seein’ you two together. Alannah needs you.”

  “I need her too,” I whisper. “They’re gonna kill her.”

  “No,” J snarls. “That’s not fuckin’ happening.”

  “Doctor Slone basically told me last night, J. Alannah doesn’t mean anything to them other than bein’ an incubator.”

  “I made you a promise, Drake. I’m a man of my word. Nothin’ will happen to her or your son,” he states definitively.

  “They can’t kill me, and I don’t think they’ll be able to kill my son, but Alannah’s not a bearer. Once she’s served her purpose, they’ll kill her.”

  J studies me for a long while, considering my words. We’re being quiet, but if there are cameras and listening devices around us, this is really fucking stupid. I scan the area, but I’m not finding the telltale signs of lenses. There are cameras in Alannah’s apartment. Why aren’t there any in the hallway?

  I can’t figure this godforsaken place out, and that’s a never-ending irritant. As soon as I feel like I have a grasp of what’s going on, something comes along and fucks it all up.

  “I—”

  J’s cut off when Alannah’s door swings open and a very pissed of Deacon comes barreling out. He gives me a once over before snorting and stomping away.

  “That went well,” I snark as J chuckles.

  I climb to my feet and head back to my woman. I take a moment to finally look around her apartment. It’s windowless like every other room in Canyon Nine. The walls are painted a soft yellow with rich chocolates and blues decorating the space. The floors are hardwood, warm with a hint of red in them. To my right is a small eating area with a four-person painted cream table with matching chairs. To my left is a galley kitchen sporting light wood cabinets, beige stone counters and apartment-sized stainless steel appliances.

  The quaint living room is straight ahead where the chocolate couches frame a wrought iron coffee table. I expect to find Alannah on a couch, but she’s nowhere to be seen. I move down a narrow hallway beyond the living room, passing two closed doors on my left before coming to an open one at the end of the hall.

  Alannah’s tiny body is curled in a ball on top of the green and grey swirled comforter in a basic white wood bed. My feet are silent as I pad toward her, noting two matching bedside tables and a dresser. There are two additional doors in here. Probably a bathroom and a closet. No escape routes. No fucking windows either.

  “Hey,” I croon, running my fingers along her light blond hair.

  “I broke up with Deacon,” she replies softly, not looking up at me as I settle on the edge of her bed. “She stabbed me in the foot like a maniac and he ran to her. Ran to her when I smacked her. I barely even hit her.”

  I nod, knowing she can pack a punch well beyond what Dr. Sadist received.

  “I don’t like to be left alone,” she whispers, finally turning her sad blue eyes up to mine.

  She doesn’t like to be alone because she was ripped from her goddamned life by that motherfucker. I can’t tell her that. I have to keep a lid on shit. I’ve given her enough to deal with already.

  “I won’t leave you,” I state confidently as I lay down in front of her.

  Alannah immediately snuggles against my body, fitting my frame like a glove. I stroke her hair away from her face while I run my other hand up and down her spine. I could hold her like this for the rest of my life. No, I will hold her like this for the rest of my life. And I intend it to be a long one, full of good shit that we both remember.

  “I’ve been here before,” she mutters against my white sweatshirt.

  “Where?” I ask, tipping her chin up so I can look at her perfect face.

  “In a bed. In your arms,” she whispers.

  “Yeah,” I say through a smile.

  “In a dress?” she asks as memories work their way back.

  “A purple dress.”

  She furrows her brow, reaching into her mind for the image. She huffs when she doesn’t find it.

  “It’ll come back,” I assure her.

  She nods before licking her parted crimson lips as her gaze travels to my mouth. I have to keep this shit in check. If I don’t, I’ll be buried in her for the rest of the night. Cameras and listening devices be damned. I’ll give these motherfuckers a show for the record books.

  I press my lips to her forehead before guiding her back to my throat where she nuzzles in.

  “I didn’t have sex with Deacon,” she announces proudly. “I almost miscarried in the beginning. I spent months on bed rest. Sex wasn’t an option.”

  “Good,” I growl possessively, smashing her further into my embrace. “About the sex, not the miscarriage,” I clarify.

  I knew I’d get better at the boyfriend thing. I didn’t know it would take me being forced into some weird concentration camp-style testing facility for that to happen.

  A throat clears at the end of the bed causing Alannah to jump and clutch onto my ribs.

  “It’s just J,” I soothe her. “He’s a friend.”

  She nods against me but makes no move to let up on my skin. I pop my head up to see J standing at the end of the bed with a p
leased look on his face. It’s either because I called him a friend or because I’m holding my woman. It’s probably a bit of both.

  “I figured you two might be hungry. You missed lunch. It’s past dinner time too. How about I make us somethin’?”

  “I’m starving,” Alannah announces, sitting up to look at J. “There are frozen spinach and feta quiches in the freezer. I crave it like crazy. Is that okay for you?” she asks me.

  “Yeah,” I respond thickly.

  Sorcha you’re killing me here.

  “I’ll get ’em started,” J says before leaving the room.

  I can’t help myself. I pin Alannah to the bed beneath me, cup her cheeks and press my lips to hers. She’s mine. Canyon Nine can go fuck themselves. She arches into me as she opens her mouth. I need to be gentle, tender.

  I was rough on her before. I won’t do that now. I can’t.

  Slowly, I slip my tongue between her soft lips as hers darts out to meet mine. She senses my languid pace and matches me stroke for stroke, massaging and tangling. The heat between our bodies filters through the stuffy fabric my body’s trapped beneath. I can feel the warmth even if I don’t show any outward signs.

  I reach behind my head and tug the oppressive material over my head before diving back into our kiss, relishing Alannah’s tiny hands roaming the ridges and flats of my back. I move away from her lips, nipping and teasing her jaw all the way to her ear where I whisper, “You’re the only person who knows that I remember. You’ll have to pretend that I don’t. I’ll have to continue to behave the way they expect.”

  I thrust my hips forward as I suckle her lobe before continuing.

  “You’re mine, Alannah. You have been since you were eighteen. Nothing bad will happen to you ever again. I’ll protect you,” I punctuate my statement with a forceful grind against her tracksuit-covered pussy.

  “I’ll protect our son.”

  Another long stroke, eliciting a moan from her crimson lips.

  “I’ll get us out of here.”

  Again.

  “We’ll have a long life together.”

  Again…harder.

  “Tell me you trust me,” I demand.

  “I trust you,” she responds immediately through a gasp as I palm her plump tit, tweaking her nipple.

  I have to stop this now. I can’t have sex with her beneath prying eyes. The idea of anyone other than me seeing Alannah naked makes me see red.

  I begrudgingly stop my hips, remove my hand from her tit and press chaste kisses around her face before ending on her succulent mouth.

  “I want you,” she pleads as I pull back from her.

  “Not as much as I want you. But not like this. Not here.”

  She nods curtly, but a tiny scowl crinkles her brow, and I chuckle. My little tiger. My woman.

  I move down her body until my face is level with my son’s bump. I remove the barriers between us and kiss Alannah’s skin long and hard before silently chanting, “Tashanu Nokrelah Grulmah.” Safety. Love. Peace.

  Then I thank him for protecting his mother. I thank Bert for training me. I thank Sorcha for loving me. And I thank her gods for allowing the match to my soul to find her way back to me.

  “Good morning,” Alannah mutters against my naked chest, slinging her leg over my hard cock.

  “Mornin’,” I croak.

  With only a scrap of lace separating her pussy from my thigh, this is not a good start to the day. I palm her ass and kiss her hair, willing myself to exercise some control.

  “Do you really think Deacon wiped my memory?” she whispers sadly.

  Talking about him is the perfect way to turn my hormones off.

  “I know he did,” I growl.

  “He said they were vitamin injections. Something to stop me from miscarrying,” she grumbles.

  “Our son is protecting you now. No more injections.”

  “Why do you think I’m getting his shields now?”

  Her head pops up, her electric blue eyes shimmering with questions. I don’t have a lot of answers.

  “I don’t know,” I reply honestly. “He didn’t like the doctor cuttin’ you open that’s for damn sure.”

  “I don’t feel any differently from how I always do. What if that was a onetime thing?”

  “You weren’t under attack before you got here. Deacon didn’t do anything else to you, did he?”

  “He…a few…exams,” she says sheepishly.

  He’s been in my woman’s pussy. I can’t wait to kill him. It’ll feel so fucking good.

  “He never hurt me,” she asserts, trying to set my fury at ease.

  I nod and push her head back down to my chest. Deacon did more than hurt Alannah. She’ll remember soon, and when she does, we’ll have to leave. I can control myself, but I don’t expect her to. She’s pregnant, and she’s been ripped from her life. She’s also got O’Donnell blood running through her veins. Alannah Carey will be in a murderous rage when she remembers what happened.

  I’m looking forward to my tiger coming back to life. Since the injections seem to be so important around here, I figure whatever they give people to wipe their memories also makes them fucking pod people. It’s strange to witness. The other bearers remember things. They can all read, write, eat, walk and talk. The drugs forced on them must wash event memories away. I wish I knew more about the brain. Science was never my strong suit.

  It’s time to start asking questions.

  J knocks on the door, signaling it’s time to get moving. Alannah climbs out of bed, flashing me her black lace panties before disappearing into the attached bathroom. I leave her room and use the hall bathroom.

  I take a quick cold shower and dress in my usual white sweat suit. J went down to the bunkroom after dinner last night and brought all of my shit up here. He said that he was able to inform Alex about what’s going on, but he didn’t give me much detail beyond that.

  J slept in the guest room here in the apartment and gave us our space. I’m going to request that he stay with us full-time. Convince Dr. Sadist and her minions that J puts Alannah at ease. I need to start making moves. Alannah’s twenty-eight weeks pregnant today. Apparently, that means we’re coming into her third trimester.

  We don’t have long.

  Alannah stays curled into my side as we ride backward and then down to the white dungeon. She’s in black yoga pants and a tight long-sleeved green T-shirt. Her body trembles as the elevator glides to a stop.

  I feel like I’m delivering her for torture. This goes against every instinct in my body and yet my feet move forward, urging Alannah to walk. Her stuttered steps make our journey much slower, but I won’t rush her. With one hand around my waist and the other fisting the front of my shirt, it’s as though I’m her safety harness. And I am. I won’t let her fall.

  J opens the lab, and I usher Alannah through the doors, finding Dr. Sadist and Deacon setting up the area for testing. Bethany spots me from her workstation and levels me with an angry glare. Someone’s jealous. Alannah also sees Bethany’s reaction to our cuddled position and turns questioning and somewhat accusatory blue eyes up at me.

  I gift her a cocky grin before tipping my lips down to her ear, whispering, “You’re all I’ve ever wanted. And she wants what you have.”

  Alannah sighs at my declaration, leaning in as I brush my lips across her cheek. Deacon clears his slimy throat, breaking our moment. I don’t spare Bethany another look. She means nothing to me anymore. She was simply a rudimentary tool that offered very little in the way of help.

  “Good morning,” Dr. Sadist greets us in her typical fake happy way. “Alannah, if you could go change again, we’ll get started.”

  She nods and moves away from me as J pulls her under his arm to lead her to the changing room. I can see the relief touching her brings him. She must remind him of his daughter with the peaceful look on his face as he looks down at my woman. He stands watch at the door after I hear her engage the lock.

  “Forty-two, how
are you feeling?” Dr. Sadist asks as I take my seat next to the bed.

  “I’m managing,” I respond.

  She clears her throat before continuing, not making eye contact with me. “I’ll have to ask you to refrain from sexual intercourse at this time. Alannah has struggled with her pregnancy leading up to Deacon bringing her here. Now that she’s exhibiting shields, my ability to treat her should she have complications is very low. I’d hate for anything to endanger your son.”

  I snort. I can’t help it. If my son is protecting his mother from needles, I think my dick inside her will be just fine. It also illustrates the fact that they’re watching us. Perverts.

  “It’s not funny,” Deacon growls from the other side of the bed.

  “I would never endanger my son,” I snarl back, humor forgotten.

  “Of course you wouldn’t,” Dr. Sadist agrees lightly. “I just wanted you to be aware of the risks.”

  “Alannah said she needs vitamin injections to maintain the pregnancy. What are you gonna do about that now?”

  “I’m working on an oral formulation. She’s due for an injection, but it can wait a few more days. Alannah should be fine until then,” Deacon responds.

  Cancer-filled liar.

  “Doctor Slone, can I ask you somethin’?” I question in an almost child-like fashion, which I know she enjoys as she turns to me with a broad smile on her face as she nods. “All of us bearers have no memory before bein’ here. How is it possible to remember how to walk and talk, but not remember anything personal?”

  “It’s pretty simple actually. In basic terms, our brains create two types of memories: episodic for memory of experiences and specific events, and semantic memory for facts, meanings, concepts and knowledge about the external world that we have acquired. Both episodic memory and semantic memory require a similar encoding process. However, semantic memory mainly activates the frontal and temporal cortexes, whereas episodic memory activity is concentrated in the hippocampus and the amygdala.