by Carly Fall
Hudson rubbed his face and looked at Jovan, who sat next to Abby. Jovan didn’t
like much interaction with anyone, as he was able to catch a glimmer of a person’s emotions simply by touching them. He had given up touching anyone in the human race long ago, because the emotions were always so negative. There were very few humans who were actually happy, according to Jovan. After one night of margaritas, Jovan had confessed to Hudson that it was a drain on his very soul. Jovan had recently clarified that statement to exclude Abby, Faith, Noah, and Rayner. Those four were happily in love and didn’t have a negative vibe rolling through any of their bodies.
Hudson understood why Jovan kept himself at least an arm’s length away. If he
could get away from himself and the pain that gripped him, he would in a heartbeat.
Hudson guessed that Jovan was the only one in the room who had an idea of what he went through every day. The charade he kept up was pretty convincing. He probably deserved a fucking Tony Award or something.
Talin and Cohen sat across from Jovan, while Hudson sat at the other head of the
table across from Noah.
Hudson found it interesting how they all migrated to the same seats, day after day, night after night. They certainly were creatures of habit.
He looked around the table as everyone talked and laughed, a symphony of
happiness as they passed the sliced chicken, the potatoes, and green beans. As people began eating, the murmurs of “another great meal, Hudson,” and “excellent food,” and
“you fucking rock, man,” joined in the chorus of noise.
Smiling and bowing his head, he stabbed a green bean, and brought it to his
mouth, not tasting the bean, the butter, or the seasoning. Chewing methodically, he debated whether to tackle the chicken or potatoes next.
The talk around the table was light, and he tracked it without participating. Faith was talking about what they were going to do to celebrate Labor Day, which was a few weeks away, and then she asked if everyone knew that September was also National
Chicken month. Hudson eyed his plate and wondered how you celebrated chickens, but he had the feeling that sprinkling rosemary and garlic on them and sticking them in a hot oven wasn’t it.
After dinner, Talin and Jovan helped him clear the table, and then they took out
the plates for the apple pie.
Oohs and aahs met Hudson’s ears as he watched everyone eat. He did enjoy this,
well, as much as he could enjoy anything. He liked cooking for the people at the table, and he enjoyed knowing that he was nourishing them and providing them with the small pleasure of a fabulous meal. And of course, he excelled in the kitchen.
It also brought him a little bit of peace. Not much, but a little bit.
And God knew that he had tried many, many things to keep his demon at bay.
He found that if he kept busy, he was able to at least get by with the pain, so he had designated himself head chef. He prepared two, sometimes three meals a day for himself and his fellow Warriors. He excelled in the kitchen, almost as well as he dominated the art of killing Colonists. The simple motions that were involved in cooking
—the chopping, the measuring, and following the directions of a recipe somehow slightly soothed him.
If he wasn’t cooking, he was working out.
Working out also downgraded the pain in a slight way, but it was the opposite of
cooking. Using his large body to lift the heaviest weight possible, hitting the boxing bag with as much force as he could muster used the raw energy that had never fully left him from his childhood and that boiled just below the surface, threatening to send him on a violent rage that he didn’t want to go on.
If none of those distractions kept the hurt somewhat manageable, which they
never did for any length of time, he turned to women. He had been on Earth for two hundred and eleven years and had slept with thousands upon thousands of women. He was forever thankful that his kind was immune to the horrible sexual diseases that brought down so many humans. He had always enjoyed the contact with human females, but after Iris’s dismissal, sex served as a good distraction from the pain of an SR44 male without his mate. His fellow Warriors always ribbed him about his exploits, and he brushed it off with a grin. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy sex, because he did. However, the sex he engaged in now was more of a necessity than a luxury. It was a tool to help him keep his shaky marbles in a row.
When the cooking, exercise, and sex failed to keep him level, he began fighting.
He found an underground fighting club on the Internet and went to his first fight four months ago. Once in the ring, he found that he liked being hit, the sheer pain of a fist contacting with his jaw as it hurt more than the agony inside of him. In his first fight, he let the human pound him. Just as he was two fists shy of passing out, he let loose on the human and won the bout.
He remembered sneaking into the silo after his first fight and visiting the healer of the Warriors, Cohen.
“What happened? Did you get hit by a bus or something?” Cohen had asked.
Hudson had told him to just heal the bruises and cuts. Cohen had the magnificent
ability of healing his fellow Warriors by using his own energy and entering their bodies, then working with their own spirits to repair damage.
“No, seriously. What the hell happened to you?”
Hudson once again told him that silence and secrecy was necessary, and Cohen
didn’t need to know the particulars.
“If you don’t keep your trap shut and heal me, I’ll tell Noah you were the one who started the fire in the silo back east on Fourth of July in the 80s.”
Cohen’s eyes narrowed. “How did you know?”
Hudson rolled the one eye that wasn’t swollen shut. “I guessed, and you just
confirmed. You were the drunkest, and you brought the sparkler into the silo after Noah passed out.”
The cost of the renovations had run into the tens of thousands, and Noah had
thought it started from faulty wiring in the kitchen.
“You manipulative son of a bitch,” Cohen muttered, running his hand through is
dark hair. “Lay down.”
For a few weeks, the fights had helped ease him, and Cohen kept his end of the
bargain and hadn’t said a word to anyone.
Laughter around the table brought him back to the present. Faith said, “Hudson, if you keep feeding me like this, my butt is going to be so big, we’ll be able to write Massachusetts across it!”
Everyone laughed, and Hudson curved his lips in something he hoped looked like
a smile.
“No, you won’t,” Rayner said, wrapping his arm around her waist and dragging
her from her chair to his lap. He kissed her cheek and buried his head in her fiery red hair that cascaded down to her waist. “Not with the workouts we’re doing, honey.”
“Do you mean the ones in the bedroom or the ones in the gym?” Noah asked with
a grin. Laughter and groans broke out as Faith blushed and Abby slapped Noah’s arm and rolled her eyes.
Noah never had much tact.
“Both,” Rayner said with a smile, his eyes slowly turning a bright red, his gaze
never leaving Faith’s face. Hudson watched the rest of the Warriors’ eyes turn their SR44
colors, and he knew his were turning a sun-colored yellow. Noah’s glowed a bright orange, Rayner’s a fiery red, Cohen’s a brilliant, violet purple. Talin’s turned an electric blue, while Jovan’s a bright emerald green. It happened every night like clockwork when the sun went down.
Rayner kissed Faith again and held her close. She laid her head on his shoulder
and sighed with contentment.
Rayner had started training Faith in martial arts, as well as on the gun range. He had told her that he wanted her to be able to protect herself at all times, so that if she ever had tr
ouble with anyone she could take them down. Hudson had watched her shoot, and she was really, really good. Annie Oakley on steroids. From what Hudson had seen, she would be also able to kick some serious ass pretty soon, which was good, as they never did catch the Colonist who had kidnapped her five months ago. And that was one thing about those Colonists—they never gave up until they caught their prey.
Faith was petite, but had an inner strength that brought Hudson to shame. He
wished he had only a quarter of what was inside Faith.
The conversation turned to the upcoming travel plans for Jovan and Cohen. They
would be departing the next day for the United Kingdom. Noah helped police
departments in the United States by visiting or looking at pictures of crime scenes and putting together criminal profiles for them. He excelled in his work, and apparently word of his superior skills had spread across the pond, because Scotland Yard in London had called asking for his help in what they thought was a serial murder case. Hudson had seen the pictures of a couple of different murder scenes the Brits had sent over, and it looked as though there was a little bit of black ash the Colonists shed when they killed. Before Rayner found Faith, Noah would have sent him along as well, but now Rayner preferred to stay as close to home as possible.
“You guys packed? The plane leaves bright and early,” Talin said.
Jovan nodded, and Cohen gave the affirmative.
“We’re also taking off tomorrow for a couple of days,” Rayner said. “We have the
last of the paperwork to sign off on for Faith’s parents’ estate.”
The table went quiet for a moment. The Colonist who had kidnapped Faith had
also killed her parents. Needless to say, Faith had been having a hard time coming to grips with the fact that her parents were dead, let alone that they were killed right before her eyes. However, she seemed to be getting better each day.
Faith looked at the table and gave a sad smile, and Rayner hugged her close.
“Okay,” Noah said. “What do I need to do to get the rest of you fuckers out of
here so Abby and I can have a little peace?”
Everyone laughed, and the sad moment quickly wafted away as if it had never
been.
The talk turned to who would be on Abby’s team for a game of pool. Abby was a
stellar pool player, and the Warriors knew that if they were lucky enough to land on her team, they would be on the winning one. Hudson watched Cohen and Jovan argue like two children over the last chocolate chip cookie.
After the dishes were done and the kitchen cleaned, Rayner and Faith announced
they would be skipping the pool games, gave their goodnights, and headed for the
elevator.
Hudson stood against the wall sipping scotch, watching Abby rule the pool table.
He loved the way her delicate hands manipulated the pool cue, and the graceful way she sent the balls whispering over the dark brown felt of the table. After her and Cohen won the first game, Noah came up behind her and pulled her to his chest, whispering
something in her ear. Hudson watched as Abby blushed, and he had a pretty good idea of what Noah had said to her. She tilted her head up, and Noah leaned down to kiss her.
“A little while longer, okay?” she said quietly.
Noah let out a big sigh, but relented, and Hudson thought about how happy he
was that Noah and Abby were mated. He couldn’t imagine anyone more perfect for his daughter, and he loved the way Noah took care of her and treated her like she was the most precious thing on the face of the Earth. He worshipped her, as any male worth the dirt on his boots should.
And that thought, of course, brought up memoires of Iris.
For their first date, she had met him at a Japanese place in town. They had talked for two hours while dining on Tempura and chicken Katsu, and Hudson found her
personality even more pretty than the package in which it resided.
When the waiter began to drop vague comments about them leaving, Hudson
knew it was time to end their date. Well, there was that and the whole issue with his eyes lighting up when the sun went down.
As they stood at the door to the restaurant, she eyed him with wariness, but with a smile on her face.
“I want to see you again,” he said, taking her hand in his, knowing his time was
limited before his eyes started glowing a bright yellow.
“Really?” she had asked, her eyes bright, her eyelids slightly droopy from the red wine they had drank.
“Hell yes, Iris. Where and when can I meet you tomorrow?”
They made plans for a picnic in the park the next day, and he stole a quick kiss at the side of her mouth.
And so it had gone. The picnic was followed by three more dates that week, and
Hudson thought that he was probably being a little overbearing in his quest to spend as much time with her as he could during the daylight hours. When she had asked why they never went out at night, he simply told her that he worked the night shift, and she seemed okay with that. At that point, Talin hadn’t invented the contacts they wore to mute the color of their eyes at night.
After two weeks, they had sat on her couch kissing. Hudson knew that he liked
Iris a lot, but he was certain that he wasn’t in love with her. He had to keep tabs on his feelings, because if he didn’t, he could end up losing his SR44 form. When his fellow Warriors and him had been sent to Earth, it had been programmed into their human
bodies that if they experienced the ultimate pleasure of having sex with a woman they loved, they would lose their SR44 forms and begin to age as humans. To do this would be the greatest failure of the Warriors, because they wouldn’t finish their mission.
One thing that an SR44 Warrior did not do was fail.
Iris had stood up and held out her hand to him. “Come on, Hudson,” she said
quietly. He stood and followed her into the bedroom, thrilled he was finally going to pleasure Iris.
The litany of curses that came from Jovan brought Hudson out of his thoughts.
The guy really didn’t like losing.
Out of nowhere, Hudson was hit with the thought that he was no longer needed.
Anywhere. Abby didn’t need him to watch over her as he had done her whole life; she had Noah. He looked around the room at his fellow Warriors. Before Abby, his life consisted of finding a Colonist, killing a Colonist, and having a good time enjoying the adult beverages Earth offered, as well as the women. He had loved to party. Abby’s birth had slowed him down a little, but not much.
His fellow Warriors didn’t need him either. Yes, he was excelled in the art of
dealing death, but frankly he didn’t give a shit if they killed all the Colonists and their offspring, because Hudson knew they would never be going home. It was a never-ending cycle, one they would never be able to stop. Some of the Warriors still believed they would one day go home, but Hudson wasn’t one of them and hadn’t been for a long time.
Hope and belief had left him long ago.
The only place he could think of that he might be needed was the kitchen. None
of these people could cook worth a damn. But then again, he’d never really given them a chance. The kitchen had always been his domain, his territory. No one had bothered to try to take it over either. One of them would have to pick up the slack.
Okay, so he wasn’t needed. He felt a little chill run up his spine, and he made his way to the bar for more scotch. His heart began to beat a little faster, thinking of his options. His hand shook while he poured, and he remembered the day that Iris had
crushed him.
He had woken with a different feeling in his chest, one that he didn’t recognize.
Going along his day, his thoughts naturally turned to Iris, and that was when he realized that he had gone and fell in love. When he said the word, it described the feeling in his chest: lightweight, car
efree, happy, and the undeniable urge to smile and laugh.
Yeah, he’d definitely moved into fuzzy puppies, unicorns and rainbows territory.
He understood what this meant for him though, and that required a little more
thought. Was he willing to lose his SR44 form? Was he willing to fail at his mission for the woman he loved? Was he willing to never go home again? When he was certain the answer was yes, he’d gone to Iris that day with the intention of telling her exactly what he was, what it meant for them to be together, and how he would pledge his life to her. He had hoped she would accept him and love him back, because as far as he was concerned, he had found his mate.
As he climbed the steps to her little house, he felt excitement for his future, ready to put his party-boy days behind him. He rang the doorbell, and after a moment, she answered. Her auburn hair hung in waves around her shoulders, her brown eyes sad. He remembered that she had on a yellow dress, because he thought of the sun when he
looked at it.
Yes, she was his sun, the light that warmed his very soul.
He knew he would have no regrets letting his SR44 form go as long as this
woman was in his life.
Before he had gotten a chance to tell her his feelings, she verbally assaulted him in the solar plexus.
First she told him she was expecting a child. Their child.
The elation he felt overwhelmed him. He felt as though all the pieces of his life were coming together in one perfectly put-together puzzle.
Just when he was certain his life couldn’t get any better, she had said the words that crippled his soul.
“I’ve given it a lot of though, Hudson, and I like you, but I don’t love you.”
So much for him declaring his undying love for her. He felt the pain of her words rip through him, tearing his heart to shreds.
“I just think it would be best if we stopped seeing each other,” she had said
quietly.
For weeks afterward, he begged, pleaded, and threw around a couple of empty
threats. One night on the phone she had said angrily, “And if you don’t back off and let me raise this child by myself, then I’ll disappear so you’ll never be able to find us.”
He had reluctantly stepped back and let Iris give birth to their baby girl. Keeping the secret of his daughter away from his fellow Warriors, he had watched Iris and their girl—Abby she had named her—live their lives.