Parallel Heat

by Deidre Knight

  ‘‘Just like that,’’ Thea repeated dully. Why hadn’t her stubborn, beautiful love not listened to her? Why had he been so hell-bent on such self-destruction? She wanted to thrash and weep and cry her anguish to the rooftops. But he needed her too much right now—if he had any hope of a future at all. Because without his protected, a Madjin had nothing. His life meant nothing. She shivered at that thought, pacing first one way, then another.

  What would he want me to do? She wondered, rubbing a hand over her chest in a pointless attempt to still her thundering heart. Wouldn’t he want the truth? Whatever Marco would want, she knew what she had to do. ‘‘There’s a lot you two don’t know—I wanted him to tell you, but he obviously didn’t.’’

  Kelsey waved her on. ‘‘Then you tell us—at least I’m listening.’’

  There was a noise on the landing, and then Sabrina appeared in the doorway. ‘‘You said you trusted me, Commander,’’ she announced bitterly upon entering. ‘‘You said that if I vouched for him, that was enough for you. Why would he come on to your wife, right in front of you? Think about the illogic of it, Jared.’’

  ‘‘I will admit it does not make sense. If he desired her, then surely he wouldn’t have made a move in the midst of our training session.’’

  ‘‘Precisely!’’ Thea said, clapping her hands together for emphasis.

  ‘‘He knew this was coming; that’s why he warned us in the letter,’’ Kelsey observed cryptically. ‘‘He said that if he ever did something that seemed totally unforgivable—’’

  ‘‘To try and find it in my heart to understand,’’ Jared finished with a look of horror. ‘‘Gods in heaven.’’

  ‘‘What letter?’’ Sabrina and Thea asked simultaneously. Kelsey had mentioned it earlier, and in the heat of the moment, Thea hadn’t pursued it further.

  Jared and Kelsey traded a look; Kelsey nodded her encouragement, then Jared strode to the small, utilitarian desk that served his needs in this upstairs study. He opened a central drawer, retrieving a plain envelope.

  Without a word, he extended it to Sabrina.

  Marco was literally in the middle of nowhere, hunkered down in the back corner of some dive on Highway 189, the perfect geographic location for him after everything tonight. He was nowhere; nameless; lost. He didn’t even know which bar he’d landed in, only that there were a half-dozen pool tables and a haze of cigarette smoke shrouding the place. And beer . . . racks and racks of beer, and Marco didn’t give a damn about his protector’s vows, not now, not tonight. He was going to get drunk and free fall into a painless state of oblivion if it was the last thing that he did.

  Something about that decision felt strikingly familiar—as if he’d already lived it, as if he would always be living it for the rest of his life. Marco gave his head a slight shake, blaming the alcohol for addling his mind.

  His waitress returned, her low halter top revealing a small butterfly on her right breast, and slid yet another bottle of Heineken across the scuffed wooden table toward him. ‘‘What’s that mean?’’ he asked, pointing at her tattoo.

  She gave him a blank stare, so he swung his finger closer. ‘‘That,’’ he slurred. ‘‘The butterfly.’’

  With a laugh, she patted the tattoo as if it might somehow fly off her chest. ‘‘Oh, hon, that’s nothing but an ole drunken dare.’’

  She was southern; practically nobody in these parts was actually from Wyoming. He was just more alien than most, he reflected, suppressing a gurgle of drunken laughter. He nodded mutely at the woman before she walked away, figuring the halter top was about right for how hot the place was. Another aspect of this frigid territory—ice-cold outside, overheated indoors. Shrugging out of his coat, he kept seeing her butterfly in his head, flapping away at his subconscious. There was something about it, something haunting. That’s when it hit him—he would always bear his Madjin’s mark. It couldn’t be removed: Fifty years from now, if he was alive, he’d still be branded as a protector to the royal houses.

  I’ll always be a servant, he thought darkly. I just have nobody to serve now. It caused a horrible, bottomless feeling in the pit of his stomach.

  Taking another heavy swig of beer, he felt the world around him grow even hazier—the dark bar was so cloaked in cigarette smoke, that he could hardly tell if it was the effect of the alcohol on his system or just the cloud hanging over the place. His eyes burned, and for a moment he closed them, feeling the world swim woozily all about him.

  Yes, let me forget, he thought. In All’s name, just let me forget tonight.

  Through the din of loud honky-tonk music, he could hear the phone at the bar ring, jarring him from his dazed state. The bartender—a burly guy with tattoos up and down each arm—grabbed it off the receiver. After listening a moment, he rounded the bar and stepped out back, shouting into the wintry darkness. Shortly thereafter a hippie chick with a wool knit cap tugged down over her ears entered the place, waving at someone as she picked up the receiver. As she talked, she pressed a hand against her cheek, beaming radiantly.

  Even she has someone who cares about her, Marco thought miserably, sinking down into the booth. But not me. He was utterly alone—without his unit, without his king and queen, without his homeland—and absolutely without Thea Haven. How could he possibly explain his actions to her, not that he’d ever see her again after tonight. And yet he’d witnessed firsthand how she believed in him, felt her unshakeable faith when she’d battled with Jared on his behalf.

  She loved him, of that much he was certain now. Not that he’d doubted it before, because he’d already felt her heart. And he loved her more than she’d ever know, or ever believe for that matter, because he could never explain that when he’d kissed Kelsey, in some confused way, he’d believed he was kissing her.

  He lifted the bottle of Heineken to his lips and took a long drag on the bottle, and sensed a gentle movement just beside him. Slowly he raised his head to see a very familiar figure. Yet her appearance made no sense whatsoever because he couldn’t imagine how she might have possibly found him.

  Marco tilted his head back against the wooden booth, amazed by her angelic appearance. Maybe that’s actually what she was, his own guardian angel—his protector—sent to watch over him tonight. She stood in front of him, and turned her head slightly sideways to match his own skewed angle.

  ‘‘Marco?’’ she questioned gently, stepping closer, and he widened his eyes in reply. She sounded a lot like Thea, so that pretty much shot the angel theory.

  ‘‘Hey, baby,’’ he slurred and stared up at her. He suddenly felt as if it was years ago, once when he and Riley had bought a six pack for the first time and gotten drunk, and Sabrina had discovered them on the apartment floor—totally busted. Only Thea stared down at him, those full lips slightly open, her gorgeous curls tucked back in a braid, and he felt an explosion of desire. ‘‘Beauuti ful,’’ he pronounced, dragging the word out. Yet he couldn’t even seem to lift his head from where he’d rested it sideways against the back of the booth.

  She smiled faintly, knitting her blond eyebrows together. ‘‘I see you didn’t waste any time tonight,’’ she observed, slipping into the booth right beside him.

  ‘‘Nah . . . I’m drunk,’’ he announced, sitting up more straight in the booth. ‘‘Best thing for me about now, don’t you guess?’’

  ‘‘No, not really,’’ she answered, stilling his hand as he reached for the beer bottle again. Keeping one hand atop his, she shoved the bottle out of his reach with the other. ‘‘The best thing for you is to sober up and come back with me to camp.’’

  He shook his head vigorously, feeling morose once again. Somehow, for a brief moment when he’d first seen her, the world had become all lightness and beauty—he’d even set aside the weight of his betrayal.

  Thea turned to face him in the darkened booth, her thigh brushing right against his. ‘‘Marco, you’ve got to come back with me.’’

  ‘‘Jared kicked me out,’’ he explained,
uncertain if she really knew that fact.

  ‘‘I know,’’ she answered gently, threading her fingers together with his. ‘‘I was there, remember?’’

  Oh, yeah, she’d been there. Of course. ‘‘Yeah, well, see,’’ he offered, squeezing her hand. ‘‘I may be drunk as hell, but I know that he kicked me out, and I can’t go back, Thea. I can never go back.’’

  He didn’t miss how distressed her delicate features became, the fear that suddenly shadowed her water blue eyes. And he wanted to take that look away—had to do it. He cupped her face within his hands and drew her lips to his own. ‘‘Baby, I’m so sorry,’’ he whispered, kissing her deeply. There was nothing tentative or gentle about the way he took her now. He wanted her to see inside his heart, and to know that at least there, he belonged to her completely.

  She didn’t resist him at all, and in fact threaded her fingers roughly through his hair, deepening their kiss heatedly. Her tongue danced with his, warring for position and as she melded with him like that, he felt his body gain clarity again. Thea Haven held the key to his soul, he’d known it practically from the moment they’d first met.

  Slowly, he broke the kiss and just stared into her eyes. The fear was gone from her blue depths, replaced now by the specter of uncertainty. He stroked her cheek gently with his thumb, and pressed a soft kiss against her forehead.

  ‘‘Leave with me now,’’ she urged desperately. ‘‘Let’s find someplace tonight, just go there. We can make love and hold one another all night long. We can be together! And in the morning, we’ll go back to camp together. Together, Marco, from now on.’’

  Nuzzling her cheek he said, ‘‘What a beautiful dream, baby.’’

  She shoved apart from him, slapping his chest for emphasis. ‘‘It’s not just a dream! There’s nothing to stop us but your fears.’’

  Bedsprings creaking beneath them, Thea taking his hard cock into her mouth . . . dingy motel room, red bedspread tangled about their legs. Wrong. All wrong.

  Giving his head a slight shake, he worked to clear the lurid imagery. Thea misinterpreted the gesture, her shoulders slumping. ‘‘You won’t come back,’’ she stated quietly.

  Everything hung in the balance: His love for her, his knowledge about how he’d transform her if they mated. ‘‘No.’’

  ‘‘What if I asked you to come for me?’’

  Pulling her close against his chest, he fell silent a long moment, just letting his lips linger against her forehead, and thought of all the many ways he wanted to answer that question. But he decided on a question of his own instead. ‘‘How can you ask that, knowing that I kissed another woman tonight? Your queen?’’

  He pulled back, so that he might study her expression as she answered. She glanced away a moment, casting her gaze around the smoke-filled bar, until at last she looked at him without a trace of uncertainty.

  ‘‘Because I know you love me.’’ So simple, yet so very sure.

  ‘‘Don’t you wonder why I kissed her?’’

  ‘‘You told me today,’’ she reminded him softly. ‘‘Their connection was making you crazy, I know that. And I know something else: You thought Kelsey was me.’’

  He sucked in a tight breath, shocked that she’d actually perceived that—that she’d seen straight into his heart.

  ‘‘Don’t you wonder what might be wrong with me that I could become so confused on such a simple point? Mistake Kelsey for you?’’

  ‘‘Nothing is wrong with you,’’ she exclaimed. ‘‘You have a beautiful gift that—’’

  ‘‘Is a curse,’’ he finished solemnly.

  ‘‘You told me that already—I don’t agree.’’

  ‘‘The insanity is returning, baby,’’ he told her plainly. ‘‘Don’t you get it? How else could I think Kelsey was you? It was always only a matter of time.’’

  ‘‘You’re wrong.’’ Her tone was emphatic, her regal jaw set and determined. But all the love in her heart couldn’t drive his demons away forever. It could only buy him time.

  He took hold of her hands. ‘‘Thea, this thing inside me—it will always haunt me. It won’t ever go away, not really. It’s in my blood and in my spirit. You know what they say about empaths back home. We’re the devil’s spawn.’’

  ‘‘Old prejudice.’’ She frowned hard. ‘‘Superstition.’’

  ‘‘It’s true, baby. You saw it firsthand tonight. How could I ever mate with you? I wouldn’t wish it on you, not with how I . . .’’

  ‘‘Love me?’’ she volunteered softly, staring hard into his eyes.

  He dropped his head, closing his eyes, but wouldn’t answer. It would only make tonight more painful for her. ‘‘How can I serve them effectively? I was always a poor choice for the unit, for their personal protector. Now, the truth has come out.’’

  ‘‘You have to come back with me, Marco,’’ she insisted. ‘‘There are things you don’t know—there’s a letter.’’

  He cocked his head curiously, waiting, but then she shook her head. ‘‘Now’s not the time for that,’’ she said. ‘‘But Jared sent me for you; he wants me to bring you home.’’

  ‘‘I don’t have a home—I never have, Thea.’’

  ‘‘I’m your home,’’ she whispered, and he bowed his head. ‘‘At least that’s what I want to be.’’

  Her words were too much for him. Reaching for her, he dragged her into his arms, crushing her against him. Her heartbeat beneath her ribs was steady against him; her scent crested across all of his senses. Reaching for her braid, he unfastened it, slowly unwinding the locks of hair.

  ‘‘What are you doing?’’ she asked, holding onto him as tightly as he did to her.

  ‘‘Letting your hair down. You have such gorgeous, beautiful hair—you should never wear it back.’’

  She laughed, burying her face against his chest. ‘‘I’m a soldier, Marco.’’

  With his fingers, he combed the strands; they were like silk to his touch. ‘‘You’ve got to go now,’’ he told her hoarsely.

  She made a sobbing sound, pushing her face into his flannel shirt. For some reason he thought back to the first night they’d met, when he’d wrangled her into the doorway outside the bar. ‘‘And what will happen to you?’’

  Drawing in her scent for a final time he said, ‘‘I have no idea. But whatever happens, it will be far away from here.’’ With that he released her from his arms, feeling his eyes burn with unshed tears. ‘‘Now go. Go back to the compound before I take you with me forever.’’

  Gaping at him, she slid out of the booth and stood. Beside the table, she turned back to him one last time. ‘‘I’ll go, Marco, but only because you’ve asked me to. But hear this before I leave—you will return. You’ll come back because it’s what you’re called to do, but more than that’’—she leaned down over him, bringing her face within inches of his—‘‘you’ll come back for me.’’

  It was nearly midnight, and Marco had stayed in the bar feeling numb ever since Thea walked away. But he wasn’t drunk anymore, and all that remained was the sharp realization that he’d lost his soulmate forever. And not only her, but all of them, and he could hardly fathom what his place in the world might be now. I’m a protector with no one left to protect. For the first time in his life, he was utterly alone—without his family, his unit—and he felt so vulnerable, just sitting in the darkness, watching cigarette smoke spiral under the dim lights of the pool tables. He had less than one hundred dollars in his pocket. That, the clothes on his back, and his truck parked outside constituted all his possessions.

  You could have gone back with her, you know it, a quiet voice prompted. You could have still had her. Jared would have calmed down and listened.

  Yet how could he have faced any of them? And how could he have ever let her love him, when he’d begun transforming into this creature. It would have broken her to watch the madness take him—and he couldn’t do that, not to Thea. He’d already hurt her enough to last several lifetimes.

>   Marco slid sideways in the booth, stretching his long legs out so that his rugged hiking boots dangled over the wooden seat edge. Despite all his internal arguments he still half hoped Thea would return. That thought caused a smile to play at the corners of his mouth as he closed his eyes. The last time he’d leaned his head back like this, she had appeared, after all—his angel, sent to retrieve his missing soul.

  Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, and he ventured to see if the room had finally stilled—then he realized he wasn’t nearly so sober as he’d thought he was. Because a figure stood studying him, just like before. But when the stranger smiled, it wasn’t the gentle nurturing of his beloved. It was the wicked invitation of the very devil. And he knew there’d be no going back after tonight—not ever.

  Chapter Twenty

  Thea entered the main cabin feeling desolate and defeated. As she closed the door behind her, three sets of eyes immediately fixed on her: Jared, Kelsey, and Sabrina sat in the main gathering area waiting for her. Their eyes conveyed all the hope she had initially felt upon finding Marco at the bar.

  Sliding out of her parka, she gave her head a firm shake—no, it hadn’t gone well.

  Jared rose to meet her. ‘‘Did you find him?’’

  ‘‘I found him all right.’’ She passed Jared without a salute or greeting, and walked toward the fireplace. Behind her, she felt Jared’s gaze on her back. Fine, she was angry and hurt with him; he didn’t deserve any show of respect.

  ‘‘Lieutenant, I’d like to speak with you,’’ he called after her.

  ‘‘I’m tired and want to hit the rack.’’

  ‘‘Lieutenant.’’

  She turned to face him, feeling her face flush with hot rage. ‘‘You could have shown me the letter, sir. In fact, you should have.’’

  ‘‘I needed the information compartmentalized.’’

  ‘‘From me? I’m your chief intelligence officer, Jared. This is me, your cousin. Your trusted. You should have shared the information!’’

  Jared glanced to the side, noting Kelsey and Sabrina’s presence.