by Cara Bristol
“What did you say?” Shadow asked.
“Nothing.” She hugged his waist again. “I got another vision about Geneva and Inferno. She won’t make it easy for him. He’ll have to work to convince her they’re meant for each other.”
“He’ll prevail. Inferno will never concede defeat. A ’Topian never gives up on his genmate. He never forgets her. He would die for her.”
Which meant if Shadow found his, Mandy would become like three-day-old fish. Unwanted. Rejected. Something to be thrown out. She shouldn’t feel hurt, but she did. Don’t let the bad…
She buried her face against his broad, strong back as tears stung her eyes. Please, universe. I don’t want to lose him.
They had a connection, dammit. From first laying eyes on him, she’d been drawn to him. They had bonded. He’d told her he loved her. She cared for him with a breadth and depth she never would have thought possible. Why couldn’t love be enough? Wasn’t love supposed to cure all?
She wished she could peek into her own future, but that would be a futile exercise. Her gift didn’t work that way. The spirit guides, the universe, never revealed anything about her own life, only other people’s. She’d long ago stopped seeking insight for herself.
And in this case, it didn’t take a clairvoyant to see the heartache looming on the horizon.
* * * *
The hover scooter veered down an overgrown graveled lane she never would have noticed. Foliage snapped as the scooter wings clipped the brush as they wound along the path to the lake.
Shadow stopped the scooter in the middle of a wide beach, and they dismounted. She peered up the embankment, but trees obscured the road. Good. If she couldn’t see the highway, no one could see them.
The mirrored lake beckoned, and she stepped toward the water for a closer look.
“Wait—” he called out as she bounced off the barrier. She moved her palms over the invisible wall of the force field. “Look, I’m a mime!” She giggled.
“Let me switch off the field,” he said.
The instant the field collapsed, she got hit with a blast of icy air. Shielded by the scooter, she hadn’t realized how cold it was, and the breeze sweeping off the lake was chillier still. Ice floated on the surface in the shallows. A few Canadian geese meandered in the water, leaving a wake of ripples in the otherwise placid surface.
Serenity beckoned. By tacit agreement, they strolled hand in hand to the shore. She noticed they never missed an opportunity to touch one another. A brush against the shoulder, a hug, a kiss, each small gesture tightened the emotional bonds. In her mind, she stored each one like a treasure.
As they approached the water’s edge, the geese veered away, swimming farther out. She slipped her free hand into her coat pocket as she drank in the pristine beauty nestled in quiet, absent even a rumble of a car engine or a distant plane. With a cleansing breath, she let her turmoil relax, let worries and fears fall away. Shadow’s warm scent mingled with the fragrance of evergreen and the fecundity of lake water. The breeze nipped at her nose. A whisper of a name flitted across her consciousness.
“Rob!” she spoke what popped into her head. “Listen.”
“What?”
“Rob.” She peered up at Shadow. “Listen to him.”
He frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“I don’t, either.” She canted her head, mentally trying to grab ahold, but the message slipped away like a will-o’-the-wisp. “It’s gone.” She rubbed her nose, which was starting to run from the cold. “You don’t know a Rob? Robert maybe? Perhaps one of Edwin Mysk’s people?”
“No. I’ve met all his people, and there is no one named Rob. Why don’t we go sit next to the hover scooter? It will be warmer,” he suggested.
“Good idea.” She needed to blow her nose. Then an idea struck her. It wasn’t unusual to receive only a partial name; it happened all the time. “What about Roberta? Robin?” Her aching heart hammered. Could that be his genmate? Could the universe have given her the answer they’d been seeking?
“No Roberta or Robin, either. Are you sure the message was intended for me?”
“No…I guess not.” Rookie mistake. Desperate to save him, she’d jumped to the conclusion the message had been meant for him. Interpreting such a fleeting message was impossible. She kicked the frozen ground. “Rob” could have been intended for anyone—a customer, a stranger she had yet to meet, maybe another of Shadow’s brothers. “You might ask Tigre if he knows a Rob,” she said.
“I’ll do that.”
When they got to the hover scooter, he flipped a switch, and the temperature warmed up as the force field surrounded them.
“Ready for lunch?” he asked.
“Sure.” She dug out a tissue and blew her nose.
He opened a compartment and retrieved a silvery blanket. “We can sit on this.”
“You came prepared!”
He spread the blanket, and she sat, expecting the cold to seep up from the ground, but discovered the thin cover not only insulated but exuded gentle warmth. Even their beach blankets are high tech. Shadow found the box lunch and the flask of hot tea Mandy had brewed.
“What if Roberta is your genmate?” she said quietly, biting her lip. She couldn’t let go of the notion. Too much was at stake.
He froze. “Was that the sense you got?”
“No…I only got the name and the word listen.”
“I promise if I meet any Robs or Robertas, I’ll pay rapt attention, okay?”
“Okay,” she agreed. Possibly the snippet had meant nothing. In any case, unless “Rob” materialized on the beach, they had little to act on. There was nothing Shadow needed to do or could do, unless she received clearer insight.
Inside the box were two wrapped sandwiches, one marked Shadow-the usual, and the other labeled smoked turkey. He must go to Millie’s a lot, she thought. “What’s your usual?”
“Roast beef with Swiss cheese,” he said. “You want to trade?”
“No, I’m satisfied with smoked turkey.” It was exactly what she would have ordered. Millie had read her accurately. Besides the sandwiches, the diner owner had packed a couple of apples and two enormous chocolate chip cookies.
Warm now, she shrugged out of her coat and tossed it over the scooter. Shadow did the same, and they began to eat. The sandwiches were generous, so she ate only half before munching an apple.
“Are you going to eat the rest of that?” He eyed the sandwich she’d rewrapped and placed in the box.
“You want it?”
He nodded.
“You must have a hollow leg.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
She laughed. “It means you can have the sandwich.”
He finished it off and ate his apple. “My brothers and I agree that Earth food is the best,” he said. “It’s much tastier than what the food replicator produces—or what we ate on ’Topia. It’s been wonderful since Meadow moved into the farmhouse because she cooks for all of us.”
She wished now she’d cooked breakfast for him and vowed to fix him some meals—large ones. She broke her cookie in half and offered it to him.
He frowned. “Are you sure you don’t want it?”
“I’m sure.” The cookie was as big as a saucer. “I don’t need the calories.”
“What’s a calorie?”
She laughed. “You’ll find out one day,” she said and then sobered. All roads to the future led to a dead end, unless Rob changed that. She toyed with the edge of the blanket. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Anything.”
“How often do sublimation episodes occur?”
“Every couple of days.”
“That sounds…often.”
“It is.” He sighed. “The first involuntary episode occurred about ten years ago. They’d repeat once or twice a year, often enough to remind me of the passage of time. Right before we arrived on Earth, they’d increased to once every couple of months. Now, it’s two to three
times a week.”
“Could something about Earth have caused the increase? Magnetism, gravity, a pollutant in the atmosphere?”
“I wish it was so, but no. It’s strictly age. Genetic programming says it’s time to mate—or else.”
“You, um, call the episodes involuntary.”
“Yes.”
“Does that mean you have voluntary episodes? You can bring them on?”
“Yes, but I stopped when I started losing control over deposition. Sublimation became too risky to attempt.”
“Oh, Shadow.” She scooted over and hugged him. She never should have raised the subject. This was supposed to be a day to forget their worries. But, she’d needed the whole truth.
When her kiss of comfort turned passionate, he drew her down onto the blanket. They fondled and kissed, and he slipped his hands under her sweater to caress her breasts through her bra. Against her stomach, his cock hardened, and her body responded, her hips rocking against him, her pussy growing wet, her breasts aching. He had only to touch her, and she melted.
He tugged at her sweater. “Take this off.”
“Here?” She hesitated. Her gaze flew to the tree-covered embankment, above which lay the road. As much as she desired him, getting naked on the beach seemed risky. They were on secluded private land, but anybody could trespass.
“Nobody can see. We’re in the scooter’s refracting zone. We’re invisible.”
“Well, then, I’m in!” She sat up, pulled off her sweater, twirled it on her finger, and let it fly. She could act like an exhibitionist without being one—all the fun without the consequences.
More clothing flew, and then they fell into each other’s arms onto the blanket again. Hands explored, followed by lips. He uttered a hoarse exhortation as she kissed his erection. She cried out and came way too soon when he licked her clit, but he rectified the matter by stroking her to the brink again.
She straddled him then and lowered herself onto his cock. Fun and games turned serious and urgent, perhaps fueled by the primal need to engage in the act of procreation when survival was threatened. He thrust into her, as if there were no tomorrow, and she gave him everything she had to give.
Frantic, frenzied, they came together with a shattering joy. The melody of her ecstatic cries and his enraptured bellow were accompanied by the squawking and honking of geese.
Plop. Plop. Plop-plop.
When she could think again, she collapsed atop him, sated and laughing. “I think the only thing louder than us were the geese.”
“I think so.” His chuckle rumbled, and then his chest began to shake with serious laughter. “Look!” He pointed.
She twisted to peer at the sky. Icky green splatters on the invisible force field appeared to float right over their heads. “The geese shit on us!”
“Apparently they weren’t impressed by our performance.” He roared, and she gave in to laughter, too.
This was what she desired, this—a good man to picnic on the beach with, great sex, and laughter. Closeness and companionship. Two hearts united. Two destinies entwined.
Except, due to the Xenos, they’d been cheated of their happily ever after, and the spirits of the universe had turned a blind eye to their plight, ignoring her repeated appeals.
She eyed the bird shit—perhaps that was the message from the universe. Life had crapped on them. From on high, emotions crashed. Laughter degenerated to sobs. From joy, she tumbled into the inescapable pit of bitter reality. Despite their bond, they couldn’t be together, and most likely Shadow would die.
“I don’t w-w-want to lose you. It’s not fucking fair!” She raised her head and shouted at the sky, “It’s not fair.”
He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. He rubbed his chin against her hair. “I know. Herian, I know.”
Chapter Fourteen
Shadow pressed a kiss to Mandy’s head and eased out of bed to avoid waking her. Her sleep had been restless, and, for him, it refused to come at all. As the week rolled inexorably toward his departure, his emotions grew more turbulent, resistant to calm. An air of sadness and desperation imbued everything they did together, including making love. Sex had become a frantic exercise in which they clung to each other, and, although they found release, the physical couldn’t soothe the ravages of awareness. Orgasm brought no rapture.
He slipped into his robe, tiptoed out of his bedroom, and padded down the stairs of the farmhouse.
Today was Wednesday—no, Thursday, his chronometer corrected as he glanced at his wrist. It was the wee hours of Thursday morning, and in two days, he would board the Star Crossed. Time had sped up. He’d encountered no one named Rob or Roberta, and yesterday Mysk had called to confirm the ship would be ready as promised.
At Mandy’s suggestion, for which he was grateful, they’d gathered with his castaway brothers and their mates for dinner. Mandy, Kevanne, Delia, and Meadow had cooked a delicious meal of roasted chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans, and apple cobbler. They’d pushed the sofas out of the way and set up folding tables in the great room to accommodate them all, the dining room having been taken over by the med pod.
Conversation had been loud and boisterous, but the cheer rang forced and false as if everyone had recognized the event for what it was—a farewell party. They would convene at the field on Kevanne’s lavender farm to see him off, but the evening’s gathering was the last time they would all be together before he left. He loved his brothers, but the remaining hours belonged to Mandy.
He brewed a quick cup of tea, a blend supposed to aid with relaxation and sleep, and took it into the great room, where embers still glowed from a fire lit earlier in the evening. He tossed a log onto the coals, settled in a recliner, and watched as the flames caught and burned. Palming his knees, he squeezed, feeling hard muscle and bone and then thumped his thigh with a fist. Solid.
Thankfully, there’d been no more sublimation episodes in Mandy’s presence. His greatest fear was that he would sublimate into final nothingness in front of her. But in fact—he cocked his head as he counted back—the last episode had occurred…almost a week and a half ago?
He hadn’t had a single occurrence since the Monday evening they had shared a pizza at the Whitetail. He hadn’t gone that long in months!
Had something changed? His heart thudded, a wild hope racing through his veins. His gaze shot to the mug. What if the tea was…an antidote?
If hot beverage could calm nerves, induce sleepiness, help to clear the body of toxins, could leaves steeped in hot water mitigate the effects of genetics?
Not likely.
Unless it was.
Nine days. He’d gone nine days without an episode or any of its symptoms—no tingling spreading up his limbs from his hands and feet. No sensation of effervescence against his skin. No dizzy spells.
As he began to ponder what if, the room and everything in it fogged over.
He was the fog.
All physical sensation was gone. His body had sublimated once again; only a gaseous cloud remained of muscle, tissue, and bone. A despair deeper than he’d ever experienced swirled through the vapor of his existence.
Why prolong the inevitable? He knew, everyone knew, he would never find a genmate in time. Why not surrender? Let his brothers grieve and get on with their lives? Mandy would find another man. Maybe Rob was the one.
He could just let go…
Mandy…Mandy… His soul cried out for her.
He couldn’t let her wake up and find him gone. As much as she’d be better off without him, he couldn’t go without saying goodbye. Couldn’t leave her like this. Didn’t want to leave her at all.
Selfish as it was, he desired every last second with her. The cloud that had been his body hovered over the recliner. I can’t leave her yet. Not like this. I have to come together. Fight. I must fight.
He pictured the vibration of his molecules slowing down, compacting, gas deposing, torso and limbs forming, sensation and senses returnin
g.
And then, he was solid again—shaking like the gelatin dessert served at Millie’s but solid.
There’d been no warning this time. No tingle. No effervescence. Thinking about not sublimating had triggered an episode—and he’d almost surrendered to it. His situation hadn’t gotten better—it had gotten worse.
He launched out of the recliner.
Tigre stood in the doorway, his whiskered face contorted in sorrow.
“You saw,” Shadow said.
His friend nodded.
“I hadn’t sublimated in a while. I thought maybe…” He lifted his shoulder. “Stupid. I have to face reality.”
“I’m sorry,” Tigre said.
“Do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
“When I’m gone, take care of Mandy? If she needs anything…”
“Of course I will. We all will.”
He nodded his thanks, grateful he had such caring brothers, and trudged up the carpeted stairs to his room. Mandy sprang to a sitting position. “I was getting worried. I woke up, and you were gone.”
He would not burden her with what just happened. “I couldn’t sleep. I went downstairs and made a cup of tea.” He crawled into bed. “I need you.”
She held out her arms. “I’m here.”
A desperate kiss led to desperate sex. He found release but no peace.
Chapter Fifteen
Low gray clouds darkened an already dreary day, the misty chill seeping into Mandy’s bones as she waited in a clearing behind Kevanne’s lavender farm. She clutched Shadow’s arm, unwilling to let go until she had to. A lump of misery clogged her throat. I can’t believe this day has come. Can’t believe he’s leaving.
A muscle twitched in his cheek, and his eyes appeared haunted every time her searching gaze connected with his. There were no words. They’d said their goodbyes in deed, making love with frantic urgency.
His castaway brothers and their mates clustered around them. Though each of them put on a stoic face, she felt their collective sadness as intensely as her own. She’d expected to see a spaceship streak through the clouds, but that’s not what happened. One moment, she studied a gunmetal sky, and the next, a huge silver winged capsule materialized on the field of dead grass.