“Don’t I keep asking you to stay? But maybe you can study art or something. Most cop work is boring. It won’t keep you occupied enough.”
She nodded. “I’ll think about it. Try to put a plan together.” She sighed. “I suppose I should look for where I came from at some point. But I don’t know where to start.”
“Luckily, I’m a cop, and I do know where to start.” Al flipped open the folder. It was a missing persons report. She caught one name, “Lucy”, before her eyes misted over.
“This is a missing persons report filed five years ago. Your missing persons report.” Al’s voice was hoarse and thick.
“My real name is Lucy?” Her own throat was closed up. She rubbed tears out of her eyes. ““How did you—?”
“I had your approximate age, a geographic area where you vanished and a rough idea of how long you’ve been missing. So I tracked you down.”
He held up a photo. It showed a teenager with unruly dark hair, large brown eyes and a smile full of mischief. She took the photo from Al. Her hand trembled. This was Lucy. This was her. She looked normal. She looked happy. Had she been happy or was the smile a lie?
“Do I want to read what the report says?” She blinked back tears. Maybe she’d come from a lousy place. Maybe she’d forgotten her life because it had sucked. That was almost easier to accept than knowing she’d been torn from a good home and from people who loved her. That would mean she’d lost everything.
Al set the report on the coffee table. “You need to read this. I talked to the detective in Queen City who caught the case years back. You were loved, Noir. You disappeared when you were nineteen and your parents never stopped looking. They’re still looking. They still hope to find you.”
“My parents?” Her voice broke.
“The Queen City detective said your parents call every few months asking for news. Your mom’s a teacher. Your dad runs a construction business. You’re their only child.”
Tears streamed down her face. She had parents. They loved her. “But how can I go to them like this? How can I explain? I don’t remember…” But now that she saw herself, bits and pieces came back. Sitting on the lap of a big, gruff man with a hardhat while he looked over blueprints. Her father. Dad. A quiet voice from over her shoulder, asking her if she liked the book she was reading. Her mother. Mom.
“How will they even know I’m their daughter? They can’t even see me. How will they understand that?” Tears dripped down her face freely now.
“The same way you explained to me. They’ll understand.” Al kissed her cheek, brushing a tear away with his lips. “You’re crying.”
“Yeah,” she whispered.
“You have to let them know you’re all right.”
“I’m not all right. I’m like this.” She pointed at herself.
“You’re Noir. You faced down the monster. You saved my life. And you’re luminous. You can handle being Lucy too. You can handle a happy ending.” Al handed her his cell phone. “Call, partner.”
She took a deep breath and stared at him, the tears fading. “I love you, Al,” she whispered.
He grinned. “Good, that’ll make it easier to explain to your parents that you’re with a guy a decade older.” He leaned over and kissed her. “I love you too.”
She started dialing.
About the Author
Corrina Lawson is a writer, mom, geek and superhero.
She’s a former newspaper reporter with a degree in journalism from Boston University. She turned to writing fiction after her twins were born (they were kids number three and four) to save her sanity. The twins are eleven now and she’s written eight books, all blends of romance with various genres.
Corrina is currently an editor of www.GeekMom.com, a core contributor to its brother site, Geek Dad on Wired.com (www.wired.com/Geekdad), and a co-author of the upcoming The GeekMom Book from Potter Craft Books, a division of Crown Publishing. She also writes for Sequential Tart (www.sequentialtart.com), a webzine about comics and pop culture written solely by women. Often you can find her hanging out on comic book writer Gail Simone’s forum on Jinxworld.
She has been a finalist in the national Golden Heart contest sponsored by the Romance Writers of America and is the winner of several regional RWA contests.
Look for these titles by Corrina Lawson
Now Available:
Freya’s Gift
Phoenix Institute
Phoenix Rising
Coming Soon:
Phoenix Institute
Phoenix Legacy
He was born to be a weapon. For her, he must learn to be a hero.
Phoenix Rising
© 2011 Corrina Lawson
The Phoenix Institute, Book 1
Since birth, Alec Farley has been trained to be a living weapon. His firestarter and telekinetic abilities have been honed to deadly perfection by the Resource, a shadowy anti-terrorist organization—the only family he has ever known. What the Resource didn’t teach him, though, is how to play well with others.
When psychologist Beth Nakamora meets Alec to help him work on his people skills, she’s hit with a double-barreled first impression. He’s hot in more ways than one. And her first instinct is to rescue him from his insular existence.
Her plan to kidnap and deprogram him goes awry when her latent telepathic ability flares, turning Alec’s powers off. Hoping close proximity will reignite his flame, she leads him by the hand through a world he’s never known. And something else flares: Alec’s anger over everything he’s been denied. Especially the passion that melds his mind and body with hers.
The Resource, however, isn’t going to let anything—or anyone—steal its prime investment. Alec needs to be reminded where his loyalties lie…starting with breaking his trust in the woman he’s come to love.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Phoenix Rising:
“I’m sorry for staring. I’ve haven’t seen your equipment up close before.”
“Hah!” He sat in an easy chair to lace up his boots. “You know you can see my equipment anytime you ask.”
“Um, that’s not quite what I had in mind.” Alec had charmed her. Lansing had been right about that. She hadn’t counted on him being so genuinely interested in her.
At least she’d had the willpower not to touch Alec’s hand and risk that intense jolt of energy a second time. Just being around him was seductive enough.
Alec shrugged at her refusal, walked back to the bed and loaded a clip into his handgun. Some sort of pistol, though she had no idea exactly what kind. Philip would have known. Alec’s eyes narrowed as he double-checked the weapon. For a moment, he was completely the competent military officer.
Satisfied, he set it down and turned to face her. He frowned, on uncertain ground again.
“Did anyone ever show you a life without guns?”
He raised one of those perfect eyebrows, oozing more confidence than ten men. Who wouldn’t have that confidence, if fire literally danced to their command?
“You know, I thought Lansing agreed too quickly to send you. Did he want you to check up on me?”
“No.” But it would be like Lansing to say that he had.
“Hah. I think you’re a bad liar, counselor. A life without guns? That’s the kind of leading question that he uses to test me.”
“I’m not lying.” Not about that. “No, it’s the first time I’ve seen you prepare for a mission. It worries me.” She looked down at the dark carpet and scuffed her feet. “I have doubts about what you’re doing. I think you’re not seeing the big picture.” Like how your foster father is using you to gain power and influence, at the risk of your life. “You don’t have to put your gift to this use. There are so many other things you can do that don’t involve violence.”
Or the possibility of being killed.
Philip had been terrified at letting her walk into danger. Looking at Alec, she knew how Philip felt. Just how dangerous was this mission tonight?
“Only
I can do what I can do,” Alec said.
“Which is all the more reason not to risk your life so recklessly.” She was pushing too hard, out of fear. No choice now. She’d run out of time.
“I’m not reckless,” he said. “I’m as careful as I can be.”
“With weapons and body armor? If you’re doing something careful, you don’t need them.”
He buckled on the body armor and walked over to her, so that they were only a few feet apart. He towered over her, even more than Lansing, but she didn’t feel the least bit afraid of him, not since their first meeting. He wouldn’t hurt her. Despite his work as a soldier, there was no meanness in him. She rubbed her arm, remembering Lansing’s anger. Alec wasn’t like him at all.
“I like doing this,” Alec said. “I make a difference. It’s what I’m trained for.”
“Yes, I know. But you never had a say in any of that training. You’ve told me that.”
“Fighting the bad guys is family tradition.” He straightened. “Lansing’s too old now, so it’s my turn. It happens all the time. Daz has the same deal, on both the American and the Filipino sides of his family.”
“Daz didn’t grow up isolated in this place.”
“Yeah, well, Daz didn’t have to worry about accidentally burning down the schoolyard as a kid. I did.” He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you seriously trying to talk me out of going tonight? C’mon.”
“I’m trying to get you to reconsider what you’ve been forced into doing for your entire life. There’s a whole world out there you haven’t seen.”
She walked over to the coffee table, reached down and brushed her fingertips over the gun. Her hand trembled. The gun looked like the same kind that her kidnappers had used, years ago. If he stayed with the Resource, Alec might become like those men, using any ends to justify the means.
“Hey! What’s with the nerves? Where’s my competent, no-nonsense counselor?”
The gun rose from the coffee table, floating in air. She turned and followed its flight. He snatched the gun out of midair with a smile and holstered it.
“See?” he said. “I control the guns, not the other way around.”
“And who controls you?”
His chest, Kevlar vest and all, rose and fell in a deep sigh. “I know someone in this room who’s trying to control me. What’s wrong, Beth?” He walked to her and lifted her chin with two fingers, his dark eyes crinkling around the edges.
“This is not a life you chose, this is a life that’s been imposed on you, from birth.”
“And?” His fingertips moved along her jaw, in a soft caress. I should move away. It feels too good. But he’s listening.
“I’m scared. About this mission, about you being locked up inside the Resource forever.” Deathly afraid, so afraid her stomach felt like a heavy lump of coal. “There’s so much you don’t know about the Resource and about Lansing, so much you don’t understand. And you need to know it before it kills you.”
“Hey, I know Lansing can be a bastard. And that he’s overprotective and controlling. I’m working on it. But it doesn’t change the fact that this is my job.” Alec leaned closer to her face. “We can talk about that another time.”
“Do you really think there’s going to be another time?” Her voice rose, almost panicked now. She wasn’t getting through. “What if you get hurt tonight?”
“Look, this cell might have a dirty bomb. They need to be stopped, and I’m the one who can do it. I have to do this, right now.”
“Just that simple?”
“Yep. I walk away, people get hurt. I do my job, people are saved. That’s the deal, that’s my life. You analyze things too much.” He cupped her face in his hand. “But if it took this mission to find out you care, then good.”
She shuddered. Wrong, wrong, she shouldn’t let him touch her like this. Yet it felt like he touched her somewhere far deeper than her skin. A shiver, like the one from their first meeting, traveled from her neck to her toes, setting her nerves jangling. “This is wrong.”
“The mission isn’t wrong,” he said, misunderstanding her. “Relax.” His face was less than an inch from her lips and his breath fell on her cheek. Her skin felt inflamed, sensitive to the slightest movement of his hands.
He kissed her.
His lips were softer than she had expected, tender, not at all like his casual, even macho, confidence. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling those strong muscles and pulling him against her, intensifying their contact, even as her mind screamed in protest. This is not what I came for!
Her body became enveloped in that strange energy, alive as never before. It was like the kiss had a second level, one which she responded to instinctively, creating a living connection between them. He drew her lips apart with his tongue, still tender, still allowing her the chance to back away. But she opened her mouth to him instead, her whole self consumed with wanting to touch him, her face flushed with desire. She grabbed the buckles of his body armor for balance, her equilibrium lost along with her reason.
He crushed her against him, no longer tender, a bruising kiss demanding conquest. She allowed him full control, despite the buckles digging into her shoulder. He lifted her completely off her feet and brought her up to his eye level.
“Beth,” he breathed, brushing his lips against her neck before moving back to her mouth.
Her mind whirled, too lost to remember that she should stop him. She wanted him too much. The air heated up, warming them. The papers on the coffee table began to smoke.
Startled, she broke the kiss. There was a momentary disorientation, like a soft mental slap. The tingling stopped. Her skin went cold.
She let her head fall to his shoulder and closed her eyes. Her last chance to reach Alec and she’d blown it. More, she’d crossed all ethical boundaries. Yet his arms around her felt so right.
Alec spun around and set her into his easy chair. He swallowed, breathing heavily, his face and neck flushed. Staring at the papers on the table, he reached out a hand and they burst into real flame. He twisted his wrist, calling to the fire. It came to him, wrapping itself around his wrist like a bracelet. He smiled, blinked, and the fire vanished.
He whistled through his teeth. “Wow. You are some kind of hot, counselor, to set me off like that. I usually have to think about creating fire.”
The one man she wants is the one man destined to destroy her.
Soul Bound
© 2012 Anne Hope
Dark Souls, Book 1
Sooner or later we all end up dead. Jace Cutler doesn’t have the luxury of staying that way. After receiving a fatal stab wound, he awakens in a hospital room in Portland, Oregon, with no memory and a big hole where his soul used to be. Worst of all is the glow. Everyone is surrounded by a strange white aura he hungers to possess, none more compelling than the one enveloping Dr. Lia Benson.
Lia has always been ruled by reason, refusing to put stock in such nebulous things as destiny. Until Jace dies in her arms, then miraculously comes back to life. Whenever he’s near, her soul responds and her body burns. And she’s consumed by odd dreams she’s convinced are Jace’s lost memories.
When Lia is kidnapped, Jace tracks her and discovers a shocking explanation for who—and what—he is. Something no longer human, a dark legacy that until now has lain dormant within him. Something that could destroy the one woman he’d sacrifice everything to protect.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Soul Bound:
Jace wasn’t in bed beside her. He’d slipped out of the room so quietly, she hadn’t heard him walk away, which was quite an accomplishment because she was a very light sleeper. A sense of loss she couldn’t explain swamped her, so she shot out of bed and went in search of him. He couldn’t have run off. Not again. Not before she could sort this out.
She found him in the kitchen, sitting at the table, staring at his joined hands. Relief flooded her veins. “I thought you left.”
&n
bsp; “I considered it.” He refused to meet her gaze. “But I’ve got nowhere else to go.”
Heat again. Whenever she was near him, warmth spread around her heart like a pocket of sunlight. Crazy. Total insanity was what this was. Jace Cutler was all wrong for her. Hadn’t she seen what he’d done to Cassie? Even worse, her sister was still hung up on the guy.
“I can find out where you live, if that’ll help—”
“Can’t stay there.” He shook his head, ran his fingers through his hair until it stood out in uneven tufts that begged to be smoothed out. “First place they’ll look.”
Now it was her turn to be frazzled. “Who?”
“Don’t know. Them. The things that are after me.”
“Jace, you’re not making any sense. Let me take you back to the hospital, run that MRI—”
“No.” The finality in his voice silenced her. “If you don’t want me here, I’ll go. But there’s no goddamn way I’m going back to that hospital.” There was steel in his tone and a passion that bordered on fury.
He must’ve noticed the startled look in her eyes, because a mouthful of air whooshed out of him. “Sorry. I’m not myself today. Whoever the hell that is.”
Compassion prevailed over nerves, and she approached him. “At least let me take a look at that wound, make sure it’s not infected.”
He nodded noncommittally. Pulling a chair beside him, she prepared to help him the only way she could. Her spine tingled at the thought of what she would find when she peeled off the bandage. His was the strangest burn she’d ever seen. “Don’t move,” she ordered, then proceeded to unwrap the gauze.
Her hand suddenly stilled, surprise and disbelief lancing through her. The burn had healed. His skin was pink and virtually intact, marred only by a thin, silver scar where the wound had been. She traced the mark with her finger. An electric charge instantly traveled up her arm and shook her body. “I think I’m hallucinating.”
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