The younglings’ eyes were very round as they observed the conversation between Beth and Merrick like a Ping-Pong match.
“Agreed.”
Merrick walked away, maintaining a distance that hadn't seemed to matter a few moments before.
Beth frowned, pulling out her pulse and firing it up. After the slim communicator had initialized, she thought her command.
Location required.
Characters formed. She flicked her eyes ahead, keeping tabs on Merrick as she followed.
Quadrant: East Hill- Kent, Washington. Greater Quadrant- America
Back in Kent. Excellent. They could jump to… she thought a new command into her pulse communicator.
Nearest body of water greater than one-tenth kilometer.
A grid solidified with the outline of a small lake just northeast of their position.
Lake Mercian, .11 kilometers, northwest 4.6 kilometers of current position.
They came to the edge of a great overgrowth of thorny bushes, small deciduous trees and scrub brush.
They still drew the attention of the younglings’ wandering gazes, but their ears could no longer hear what Beth and Jeb said. Beth wanted to switch to Latin but knew how dangerous that would be.
As it was, they'd dropped out of the sky in front of a hundred youngling witnesses, who were impervious to Merrick’s mind manipulation.
“Jasper…”
Beth held up her pulse; she would not hear about how she was an inadequate female once more.
“We can jump at this location.”
She handed Merrick her pulse, and he studied the grid.
“All right.” He handed it back to her.
“I'll pulse Calvin, or he'll jump to this quadrant.”
That's all I need. Their mission was already compromised six ways to Sunday. A hundred witnesses had seen their jump, she’d almost died because she couldn't handle herself against five Three males, and they had Three deaths. At least their deliberate interference to save a portion of the future population had been successful; the Zondorae brothers would be eliminated.
It was deplorable.
No wonder Merrick wanted to cut her loose. She'd screwed her first mission beyond hope.
Beth clammed up. If Merrick didn't want her, then fine. There were others. She thought of Ryan, and her mind stuttered over the reality of a less-than-neutral partner. Some Reflectives would hesitate to leave her on a non-reflective sector—like One.
And then Beth would be stranded on a world so violent that the Papilio embassy there was fortified with a non-reflective metal mined only on Sector Seven. The fey of that sector—they had an intimate knowledge of natural deposits.
She was expendable. Rachett had assured her that Merrick was dependable.
To Beth’s shock, he was. He'd shown himself to be even-handed and compassionate, though not with those who would bring them harm. The Threes at the cafe had deserved his wrath.
Merrick had taken care of her twice. She would have fed him had he been wounded. Beth would have killed herself carrying him through battle. She would have jumped to heal him if she could.
None of that was inappropriate; it was true Reflective camaraderie.
Now Merrick was behaving as though something had broken along the way, and he couldn't fix it.
He was too self-contained for her to think he would be interested as a male would be. No two Reflectives were ever allowed to marry.
That was sacrilege.
The goal of meeting one’s soulmate belong to all Reflectives. It forbid anything but dalliances.
She was fine with that; anything else felt a little like cheating on her future spouse—that perfect half to make her whole. There were Reflectives who weren't worried about it. The prospect of finding their soul mate in another sector seemed too faraway to be real.
Yet it was. Beth had seen it happen. That lucky Reflective’s internal timepiece finally disintegrates after their combative service for The Cause is satisfied. They are free to jump, not for battle, policing, and protection but to find their other half.
Hard to imagine having happiness without conditions.
Most likely, Beth's other half was from the sector her mixed genetics hailed from. However, she would not be privy to that classified information.
Rachett knew. Who else?
“Jasper,” Merrick called to her.
She started.
“We can discuss this more later.”
Beth shook her head, changing her mind again. “I want to know before we jump why you won't work with me.”
She looked down at her feet, expelling a tight breath.
“Is it because I was injured too much… weak?” Beth said the last word quietly.
“No.”
Beth jerked her face up, and Merrick's was so close she could touch him.
But she didn't.
“Then what?” she asked, her voice low, her hands clasped behind her back.
“The truth?” he asked, swiping hair away from his face.
The younglings’ happy noise filled the air behind them, the humidity of the world clung to them like damp fingers, and the call of the nearby lake to jump home was almost unbearable.
Beth wanted to leave Sector Three.
She wanted to hear Merrick's thoughts more.
“Is there anything other than the truth?”
Her eyes searched his.
“Not with me, no.”
That's settled then. “Tell me.”
He hesitated. “I can't accomplish our missions with a Reflective I feel I have to protect.”
Beth retreated a step. “I escaped Ryan's assault… he would have killed me—”
“I know.”
“It can't be that. I had things under control with those Threes.”
Merrick shook his head.
“No, they caused internal damage.”
Beth turned, pacing away. Her eyes began to scan for something to jump from—anything.
She couldn’t stand the words Merrick used.
Inferior. Female. Mongrel. They’re not actually the words he used, but they’re what she heard, what she’ll always hear.
“Jasper!” he called out, his voice a strike against her, soft like velvet, low, and commanding.
“Beth.”
Stopping, she could feel Merrick approach.
His body heat moved ahead of him like a wave, blanketing the path as he drew nearer.
“What?” Her body tensed, ready for the strike.
“Face me.”
Beth turned, and he put his hands on her shoulders. “I am sorry. I'm not as good with words as you are.”
The words that fell out of her mouth were hurtful but factual. “Rachett will put me with someone like Ryan.”
Merrick squeezed her shoulders and let his hands drop.
“I won't let him.”
“That's what you don't get. It won't matter. I need to jump, and I have to jump with someone.” Her voice turned bitter.
“It'll be some other male who hates what I represent.”
Beth bit her lip then reached out, putting her hand on Merrick's arm. “I'd rather have your resentful protection than abuse through the neglect I'll receive from another Reflective.”
Merrick swallowed, glancing at her hand.
She took it off his forearm as if it burned.
“Calvin won't hurt you.”
He was an inductee, like her. I don't think so, Beth thought. “I can't jump with him. He’s who you'll want back. Your trainee.”
Merrick grunted. “You know I can't go backward. Rachett will select another trainee for me.”
“When does your timepiece run out?”
Merrick knew the minute his ran out; every Reflective did. Why he didn't give Beth an immediate date was perplexing.
“Don't be a pain in the ass. Just tell me. And for the record, I think it's pathetic that we have to worry about me being abused by our own kind.”
Lance Ryan had proved that it was
her reality.
“I have one year.”
“So it's degrading now.”
Merrick nodded.
“It's part of the transition. You know the gig. After four years of faithful service—”
“Perfect merit.”
He nodded.
“We can have the opportunity to find the One.”
Beth couldn't help the roll of her eyes.
Merrick frowned at her expression of disbelief.
“Don't dispute it, Jasper. There is a male out there just as perfect for you as there is a female for me.”
Beth shook her head.
“No, it's not that.”
She considered his sincere face and decided to tread more softly than she'd intended. “You've been around.”
She made a loop with her index finger.
Merrick shrugged.
“I don't deny it.”
Beth laughed. “I'm sure ʽthe Oneʼ is going to feel like one of many with your man-whoring.”
“And you're perfect, Jasper?” Irritation had crept into his voice.
He doesn't need to know what I’ve done. It's a big fat zero.
Jebediah Merrick was on a need-to-know basis about the void of her sexual experience.
And he didn't need to know.
She shook her head, beginning to move away from him.
“No, as I've been told, time and again—I'm so far from perfect, it's a tragedy I'm part of the Reflective. But I am discerning.”
Merrick said nothing.
A Three male approached and she noticed the school grounds had fallen silent.
She'd been so embroiled in her discussion with Merrick that she hadn't noticed recess for the younglings had ended. Their close proximity to the group had no doubt risen what the Threes called a “red flag.”
Wonderful, just what we need. Or what I need.
She had a partner who wanted to dump her, a new partnering with someone completely untrustworthy, and a Three male they couldn't jump in front of.
Merrick muttered it best, swearing under his breath.
“Fourth: jump only when unobserved.”
“We blew that all to Hades.”
“You two,” the male addressed them loudly.
“Let me talk,” Beth said and Merrick gave her a look. She was angry, the lake was approximately four and a half kilometers away and this rent-an-officer would be their undoing.
Of course, they had both let the emotional upheaval of an out of control jump and mission lead them around by the nose. She was actually surprised that Merrick hadn't been more single-minded and insisted on returning immediately to Papilio. What an unmitigated disaster.
“These are closed school grounds.”
Five feet eleven, moderate mastery of indigenous handgun, right hand dominant, fatty layer interferes with optimum condition. IQ: one hundred ten.
Beth swallowed.
She hated the marginally smarter Threes. At least he wasn't a Sensitive. That would have been another disaster waiting to happen.
“Just passinʼ through,” Beth said in perfect local quadrant dialect.
“Odd place to pass through.”
Beth smiled, forcing warmth into her eyes for this stranger. She knew that Merrick would be tired from using his mental manipulation against so many, so he was essentially useless.
She hoped that being female would be enough.
She drew closer, and he never flinched. Beth was irritated that her body had never intimidated anyone. It never would. She was dangerous—deadly even. She just didn't look it.
He didn't palm his holstered weapon at her approach and was completely at ease.
“We're not sure where Lake Mercian is? Hoping you knew.”
His gaze swept their clothing, which was definitely the worse for wear.
“Yeah?” His eyes held disbelief.
“Not looking like you're taking a day at the beach on a Tuesday.”
Beth's mind scrambled for what that meant.
She began to panic.
Merrick answered. “We work the weekends.”
He’d sounded stiff but passable.
Beth's shoulders relaxed.
The guard appeared to weigh Merrick’s sheer physical potential.
“Yeah… okay.”
He dismissed Merrick, his eyes moving to Beth.
He drove them down the front of her, and heat rose to the surface of her skin.
She'd had males look at her with disregard, disparagement and indifference. But this frank appraisal was wholly different—and even more unwelcome.
She saw Merrick's hand tighten into fists and gave a little shake of her head.
The Three suddenly grinned.
“IDs.”
Beth's head swiveled to Merrick.
“I'm afraid I don't have mine,” Merrick said in carefully enunciated English.
Beth had hers.
She kept it inside her pants, in a secure and intimate location, and she would have needed to get half undressed to get it from the interior pocket of her denims.
The prospect made her blush return with a vengeance.
Judging by how the male was eying her, he would have enjoyed pleasuring himself with the view of Beth without all her clothes on.
Some of the heat in her face came from anger.
“Well?” he asked, tapping his slim pulse communicator against his opposite hand. The warning was clear: produce an ID, or he would call more Threes.
“I do have it, but… it's inside my pants.”
“No, Jasper.”
“Yes…. Jasper,” the male said, eyeing Merrick speculatively.
Merrick stepped forward.
“She will not disrobe in front of you so you can confirm our identities. We're Americans, on the way to our lake destination. Detaining us is not within your tasks.”
Damn, Merrick.
The male licked his lips, looking at Beth.
She shifted her weight. The air suddenly carried an oppressive thickness.
“I don't think so. You”—he pointed the tip of his pulse at Merrick—“speak weird as hell.”
His eyes trapped Beth again.
“And if she has to get naked as a jaybird to show me she's legit”—he swung up his palms as if to say, It’s not my problem—“she will.”
His brows dumped above sullen eyes.
“Now strip, sweetheart.”
“No.” Merrick's voice was full of the heat of anger.
Beth showed him with her face that they had talked too long, tarried in a public place longer than was safe.
They should have jumped instead of wasting all their time moving in conversational circles.
The hour had grown late. Beth wondered how much afternoon sunlight they would have before the surfaces offered no reflection.
If the perverted Three wanted to see her ID and lust after her flesh while she retrieved it, then it was a small sacrifice for the ultimate goal.
Beth took off the hoodie and let it drop to the ground. Next she tore off the long-sleeved shirt that covered her thin camisole, and it landed where the hoodie fell.
“Move backward,” he instructed.
She and Merrick locked gazes, moving into the thicket, where it was dark and quiet. There was no one to notice this Three.
“Now the pants.”
Merrick made a noise of pure disgust.
His fists clenched and unclenched. The flutter of his strong jaw conveyed his anger perfectly.
“Shut the fuck up, Romeo.” The Three smirked at Merrick.
Beth could just make out the low growl Merrick emitted. The Three had pressed so many buttons that Merrick's self-control was impressive.
She removed the denims. She unbuttoned the hidden pocket and plucked the laminated pulse ID out of the interior pocket.
“Now… let me see those sweet drawers.”
Beth could feel the roar of blood inside her ears.
“Drawers?” Beth asked, the ID inside her
outstretched hand.
She leaned toward him with her upper body, as near as her hand could reach while keeping her body rooted.
The Three cleared his weapon from its holster and thumbed the activator.
It came to life, the red laser centering on Merrick's chest.
“Don't, hero. You'll be dead before I blink.”
“What? Here's my ID,” Beth said, maintaining a calm tone from sheer will alone, swinging her palm, making the holographic image of her face blink in the weak light inside the thicket.
“I don't give a shit who you are.” His eyes met Merrick's.
“I want to know you.” His other hand went to the crotch of his pants and squeezed.
Her eyes were riveted to where his hand fondled.
“Merrick,” Beth called, her voice giving her away.
She felt him tense beside her, waiting.
Just one word. Could she say it? Could she ask for it?
It was the only word that mattered. Her fear had become a living, breathing thing.
“Help,” she whispered.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Jeb was infuriated.
And that would not do. This wretched botch of a Three thought to rape his partner.
Jeb should have assessed his bent toward violence more quickly, then subdued him.
He couldn’t dwell on it at present, though. The time was definitely at hand for action instead of intellect.
His eyes took in Jasper, standing there without sheltering herself, her small body vulnerable to the perusal of the honorless male.
Jeb clenched his jaw, searching the area.
His gaze landed on trash. Someone had littered, a practice which no longer happened in Papilio.
The aluminum drink receptacle shimmered in the low light.
Jasper's eyes followed his gaze, and her eyes widened.
He had never dared jump in something so non-reflective, or so small.
“I'll shoot lover boy if you don't drop what ya got.” The Three lifted the gun, and the red dot bounced on Merrick's chest.
Jeb felt the heat of his impeding jump. He would not stop. The injustice of watching this male have his way with Beth wasn't something he had signed up to abide. Yet another problem with a female partner: there were always males in sectors who would not protect women, but harm them.
He gave his full attention to the crumpled can. Its dents lent more reflection.
Suddenly Jasper's hand was in his, and the surface crystalized, fully revealing every dim reflection.
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