“It is too late for that. Neron knows who you are, where you live. The rifle will not protect you. You will not return to that house.” I changed my words to a command.
“Watch me.” Cassie pulled away and shoved her feet into her flat brown shoes. She whirled then, and started running in the direction of the boarding house.
In two strides my arms were around her, locking her to me as I made my intentions clear, as I staked my claim. “You can try to run, Cassie, but it changes nothing. You are mine, my marked mate, and I won’t allow you to go.”
She kicked and fought, but I held her as easily as I would a small child. Finally, she grew weary and fell limp in my arms. “Please. He’s my father. He adopted me when I was four and I had no one, no family, no home. We have to warn him. Please, Maddox.”
Her pleading should have fallen on deaf ears. Returning to the house was a risk I did not wish to take, but I could not bear the idea of her pain. If I forced her away now, would she ever forgive me? I had not realized her relationship with Mr. Anderson. Her father.
On Everis, family was all. This, I understood, despite my desire to deny it.
“All right, Cassie. But we will go together. Once he has been warned, we will leave this town and travel to my ship. I won’t leave Earth without you.”
She stumbled forward, out of my arms, and turned to face me, her eyes round as disbelief filled her gaze. “What did you just say? What do you mean, you won’t leave Earth without me?”
Cassie
* * *
“I am not from here,” Maddox said, placing his big palms on my shoulders. My right shoulder heated along with the birthmark on my palm.
“Of course, you’re not,” I countered, a little afraid of the answer. While I was eager for his touch, I was also overwhelmed and confused. It was difficult to keep a clear head with him about, when he looked at me with his pale eyes, searching and seeing far deeper into me than anyone had before.
He spoke of murderers and mates and marks and not leaving me on Earth. I was a little fearful of him, even though my instincts insisted that he was safe. I’d even run to him, grabbed hold of him after that man—Neron—approached.
Neron. An odd name for an odd man. He’d been big, as large as Maddox with hawk-like features and a long, pointed nose. His eyes had been dark, unnaturally dark, like the ink that filled Mr. Anderson’s quill with almost no whites around the edges but his hair had been pale, but dull, more like aged paper than the sunny gold on the children’s heads at church. His clothing had been normal enough, pants and boots and a brown cotton shirt. But his deep voice had made goosebumps race up and down my spine, and he’d stared at my hand as if he expected to find the answers to the universe on my palm.
Or he wanted to bite me. I’d seen something feral in his eyes; not desire, for I recognized that now, but something darker. Fascination? Anticipation? Obsession?
I had run to Maddox, trusting that he would protect me. But now… now I had to wonder if the man was insane. Perhaps they were both insane. Not from Earth?
It was as if Maddox read my mind.
“I am not from the Montana Territory or your United States. From any place on this world. I am not from Earth. I am from a planet called Everis.”
His face was close, so close I could see the dark whiskers on his cheeks, the little sliver of a scar by his right eyebrow, the darker blue flecks in his eyes. I couldn’t help but laugh.
Putting a hand to my mouth, I tried to stifle it, but I couldn’t. His eyes widened, for this probably wasn’t the reaction he was anticipating, but how else could I react? He said he was from some other planet. He was insane. And for a moment, that thought broke my heart.
The first man I’d truly desired, the first man I’d allowed to touch me, and he turned out to be crazy. God, wasn’t that just my luck? As if being an orphan and a widow wasn’t bad enough, now I’d allowed a madman to seduce me.
But there would be no more touching, or kissing, or—anything. No more.
Tears gathered in my eyes as I stepped back once, twice, and held my hands out in front of me. “Mr. Maddox, I’m just going to go back to the boarding house and go about my day. I’ll forget we ever had this conversation, that you think you’re from… somewhere else.”
“I speak the truth,” he replied.
That validation did nothing to sway me. “All right, say I believe you. How are you speaking English? I haven’t been outside of the territory, but I know people from different countries speak other languages. You can’t tell me that people from… from—”
“Everis,” he added for me.
“—Everis speak English.”
He shook his head, then turned his head and pointed to a small button, no larger than a ladybug, behind his ear. He tapped it and a strange language I’d never heard before filled the air between us. He tapped it again and I heard French, a language I recognized from some of the trappers and miners who passed through town. One more tap and silence returned as he lowered his hand and turned to meet my gaze. “It’s called an Osteo-Communications Implant. We call it the O-C. The rest of the Fleet is using new tech called a Neurostim Processing Unit, but on Everis we’re slow to adapt. We’re an ancient race with even older customs and we don’t like change.”
“What is it? I don’t understand.” I lifted my hand toward his ear, lowered it to my side. Did I want to touch it? Touch him? No.
“It’s a translation device that allows me to communicate with any known species in the universe. With it I can speak and understand all the known languages of Earth and every member planet.”
A translator? He could speak English or any other language on Earth? Any language in the universe? I bit my lip to keep from laughing again. “What you say is completely unbelievable. I can’t decide if you’re being cruel or if you truly believe your words.” I pointed to the sky, which was now quite bright. “Either way… I have to go. Mr. Anderson is surely wondering where I am by now. I should have had the coffee brewing and the biscuits baking.”
I spun on my heel and started walking away. I didn’t dare run, for he would know that not only did I doubt him, but feared him, too.
I made it to the top of the slight rise in the prairie when he called out, “The mark on your palm, Cassie.”
Rubbing my fingers over the spot that even now tingled, I stopped, but did not turn.
“It’s a mating mark. When I came here, when I got close to you, it came to life.”
I started walking again, not wanting to hear this. Not wanting to consider what he was saying might be true.
“Five days!” he shouted. “Four dreams.”
The images of those vivid dreams flared to life.
“I have them, too. The dreams, the mark on my palm. I know you have a little mole on your right hip. There’s a small scar on your left elbow. I know the sound you make when you come all over my cock.”
I gasped at his intimate knowledge. My skin heated at the truth of his words. I knew what his cock felt like as I came around him.
“You can try to run away from the truth, but the dreams will continue to come. And so will I.”
I fled then, grabbing the hem of my dress and running up and over the rise, not stopping until I came to the back door. I knew he followed me, and as much as I hated myself for it, I slowed to make sure I would not return home alone. If Maddox’s crazy words challenged me, Neron’s too-bright gaze unsettled me in ways I didn’t even understand.
I stood at the back door and stopped to arrange my hair, which had fallen, bouncing around my shoulders as the few pins holding it met their fate, scattered and lost across the prairie. I twisted my hair into a knot at my nape. I was sweaty and breathing hard. Looking down, I realized the top buttons of my dress were not fastened. Hastily, I set myself to rights before stepping into the kitchen. I didn’t want Mr. Anderson to know about anything that was occurring with Mr. Maddox. It was a secret that I was not prepared to tell. How could I? Even I didn’t believe
his wild tale. I could not explain what he knew and how he knew it.
Taking a deep breath, then another, I went into the kitchen. Strangely, all was quiet. The stove was still cold, the coffeepot dry. I knew Mr. Anderson was not a cook—he could burn water—but he knew how to brew coffee.
I could hear the clock on the mantel above the fireplace in the parlor. “Hello?” I called out. Pushing open the swinging door to the dining room, the table was bare, the room empty. I went around the corner and saw that the front door was open and I went to the entry to close it to find Maddox there before me. He stepped inside and I turned away, headed back to the kitchens. Just before I went out of the dining room, I caught sight of a man’s booted foot in the hall. I took another step and saw the leg as well. It was as if he were asleep on the floor at the base of the stairs. Had Mr. Anderson fallen down? The older man was frail. Had he taken a tumble?
I drew closer and placed my hand over my nose as the thick, metallic smell of fresh blood assaulted me. Mr. Anderson had not fallen down the steps. There was blood, so much blood it was like a blanket beneath him. His eyes were wide open and unseeing, his head twisted at an unnatural angle and his throat had been cut, a vicious slice that revealed the gaping hole in the center. The murder was brutal, his head hanging backward as if on a hinge. Blood continued to ooze from the sides of his neck and run down his flesh to merge with the dark stain already on the hardwood floor.
The man who was like a father to me looked up at the ceiling with sightless eyes, his skin gray as ash, the wrinkles on his face flat and his mouth open with a soundless scream.
“Oh, God. Mr. And—”
My throat closed up and I couldn’t get out the rest of his name, not that it mattered. Someone had done this. Someone had come into the boarding house and attacked Mr. Anderson. Murdered him.
“Oh, no,” I gasped. Whipping about, I ran back through the dining room, sensing more than seeing a blur of movement beside me. I pushed open the door to the kitchen and bumped into a hard body. A strong pair of arms circled me, holding me tightly.
I pushed and punched at him. “No! Get away! Leave me alone!” I screamed. I was going to be killed, too. Sliced open and left on the floor. “No!”
“Cassie,” the man said. “Cassie!” he repeated, his voice deep. He grabbed my shoulders, shook me. Lowering to my height, I saw his eyes, his pale blue eyes. “It’s Maddox. And we have to go.”
I shook from head to toe. “How did you get here? You were at the front…” I dropped the thought, not caring about the details as my stomach revolted at the remembered sight of Mr. Anderson’s throat. I’d seen a cow slaughtered once, a long knife used to quickly slice the neck and kill it. Let the blood drain out. That had stuck with me and I’d refused to eat beef for an entire winter after that. But this…
I couldn’t speak, so I pointed, with a very wobbly hand, over my shoulder. “He’s dead.”
“I’m sorry.” Mr. Maddox’s gaze roved over my face before he lifted his head as if scenting the air like a bloodhound. His eyes narrowed and he pulled me along behind him. “Stay behind me. Don’t leave my sight.”
Chapter 7
Cassie
* * *
He let go of me and I focused on his broad shoulders, the black silk of his long hair where he’d tied it at the back of his neck. I didn’t look at Mr. Anderson. I didn’t need to see him like that again, was afraid I’d never get the sight out of my memory. I listened to Maddox’s heavy footfalls as he approached the body, then stopped. I stared blankly at the wall, at the faded dark green vine and yellow daisy pattern of the wallpaper that had lined the hallway for as long as I could remember.
My mind longed for something to do, for the comfort of routine and I considered starting the fire in the stove, for it was well past six. My hands twisted together at my waist and I immediately dismissed the idea as a fool’s errand. There was no need to cook. No need for coffee or breakfast. Mr. Anderson was dead and did not require either.
Maddox turned to me and swept me up into his arms. I buried my head in his neck as he stepped over Mr. Anderson’s body and walked up the stairs to the first landing. When I was on my feet again he told me to stay close and pulled an oddly shaped pistol from one of his pockets. It was smaller than the revolvers I’d seen around town, and a bright, shiny silver, not black. I stared at the weapon, confused. I didn’t see anywhere for him to load the bullets. The sides were smooth and seamless, more like the rounded center of a pretty silver spoon than a weapon.
He left me at the top of the steps and I watched as he walked from room to room. He returned within a minute but in that short time my calm had been exhausted.
“What about the others?” I asked. “Mr. Bernot and Mr. Williams were here overnight.”
“The one with his hand on your ass stayed at the hotel last night.” His jaw was tight, the lines in his neck tense.
“What?” I was too confused to understand what he was saying. Of course, Mr. Bernot had not left us last night. “But he paid for two more days. In advance.”
Maddox shook his head slowly, his focus squarely on me. “I escorted him to the hotel in town last night after he dared touch you. He’s gone.”
That announcement made me nervous and strangely warm all at the same time. No one had ever really watched out for me before. No one had protected me from men with wandering hands or anything else for that matter. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson had done a fair job raising me, but there’d been no real love there. Not like I wanted. My mother had admitted to them that I was a bastard and pious Mrs. Anderson had never quite forgiven me for it. “What about Mr. Williams?”
“The older man in the second bedroom?” Mr. Maddox asked, tilting his head in that direction.
“Yes.”
“He’s dead, too. If it’s any consolation, it appears he was sleeping and was not aware when death came for him.”
And yet Mr. Anderson had been all too aware of his attacker and demise.
Shaking my head, I shoved past him and raced to Mr. William’s bedroom door. Still slightly ajar, the scent of blood hit me before I could push on the handle. I stopped, unable to swing the door open. I didn’t want to see more. I’d seen enough. And the smell—more blood—
It was then my stomach chose to revolt. I dashed down the hall to the back stairs and raced out the back door. Dropping to my knees in the grass, I leaned forward and promptly heaved up the pitiful contents of my stomach. It wasn’t much as I’d had nothing to eat since supper, not even coffee.
A shadow formed on the grass before Maddox squatted down behind me, his knees bracketing my body.
His hand went to the back of my neck as he reached around and offered me a cloth.
Wiping my mouth with it, I tried to catch my breath. “That man did this?” I asked, running my fingers over the tall blades of grass. “Neron? The man you’re hunting?”
“He did.” Maddox’s voice was deep and bitter. “This was another message. A much more deadly one and truer to his nature.”
“Why is this happening?” I took deep breaths of the fresh air, but the smell of spilled blood still tinged my nose. “Why did he do this? Was it because of me? I’m just a woman who works at a boarding house. I have no family, no beau, no prospects or even any money. I’m nothing.”
With an arm banded about my waist, Maddox scooped me up and spun us about so I was standing before him. With his fingers beneath my chin, I had to look at him.
“You’re not nothing,” he replied vehemently. “You’re my mate. You belong to me. You are not alone. What Neron did, how he slaughtered those two men—” he angled his chin toward the house, “—is exactly what he did to my sister. What he wants to do to you.”
My stomach lurched and I lost my balance, leaning heavily on Mr. Maddox’s steady arm. “Why? Why me? He doesn’t know me. He doesn’t know anything about me.”
“He knows you’re mine, Cassie. He knows hurting you will hurt me.”
I jerked my head a
way from his hold. “Then leave! Go and take the danger with you. You made your problems, my problems. You had Mr. Anderson killed!”
He slowly shook his head. “Neron is a psychopath. He will kill anyone in his way. As for leaving, yes. We have to leave. But I told you I won’t go without you. I can’t.”
His jaw clenched and fine lines formed around his mouth and eyes as he lifted his head to look around us. He was comforting me, protecting me, and all the while that killer might be out there, watching us. But Maddox hadn’t left me behind. Even now he sheltered me from the wind with his body, risked his own life to stay beside me. “Is he still here? Watching us then?”
“No, Cassie.” The arm about my back gave me a reassuring squeeze. “No. He’s gone. He is evil, but not stupid. If he were still here, I would have killed him. He strikes and he runs like the coward he is.”
“Then if you leave, he’ll follow you. Everything will be fine,” I replied. Even I knew that nothing would be fine again. If Maddox walked away, I wouldn’t go inside and find Mr. Anderson trying to crack an egg. I’d find his lifeless body in a pool of blood.
“No, he won’t. Not now that he’s found you. You can’t stay here, Cassie. If I leave, he won’t follow me, he’ll follow you. He’ll kill you.”
I shook my head as my nausea was replaced with dread, a cold that turned my limbs to lead and made my mind go strangely blank. “You’re crazy. You’re both crazy.”
Hysteria unfurled in my gut like a dozen baby rattlesnakes had taken up residence in my stomach. My hands grew clammy and my vision blurred.
“You’re in shock, Cassie.”
“Shock? Yes, of course I’m shocked.”
His hands cupped the sides of my head and I looked into his pale eyes. It was all I could see as he spoke.
“No, your body is reacting to the trauma of witnessing the deaths inside. Breathe. Yes, that’s it. Again. Good, once more.”
When the black receded, when I felt calmed, he sighed and pulled me closer. I didn’t have the strength to resist, simply slumped forward and allowed him to press my ear over his beating heart. The steady, thumping rhythm soothed me over several long minutes. When I felt like I could stand on my own, like my body would, perhaps, actually listen to my commands, I pushed at him, ready to get moving. Ready to run.
The Alien's Mate Page 6