Mesmerized by the Alien Mercenary

by Ashlyn Hawkes

  Shocked and happy.

  But also alarmed. If Tox is being watched to ensure the job is done, then when it’s eventually discovered that he’s failed, it’s possible the employer will go after him. A long shot, hopefully, but it remains a possibility.

  My life is the one that’s definitely on the line, and I watch Tox. He’s settling again, his eyes never opening, and I manage to climb off the bed without him stirring anymore.

  I quickly go to my closet. I always have a bag packed in case of emergencies, and I have all kinds of clothes for various disguises including wigs to choose from. A blond? Sure, why not. A straight cut, shoulder-length.

  Then I head to the bathroom and conture to give my face a different shape, especially my nose. It’s not easy, trying to change my facial structure with shadows but also give the appearance that I’m not wearing much makeup. The point of this is for me to look unrecognizable, to be one of those people who blends into the crowd, who no one looks twice at.

  Once I’m satisfied, I grab my bag, secure all of my money, arm up, and then I leave. It might be nice to have the brand new papers in hand when I leave my place, but the longer I delay, the greater the chance Tox will wake up.

  A pang hits my chest. Leaving him at my house… It’s not something I want to do. It feels wrong, but I have to go and immediately.

  Swiftly, I survey my surroundings. Maybe his boss lied to make Tox think he was being watched, but there's no one here that I can see. Still, I drive to the nearest bridge, park, swap plates, and even give it a quick paint job. Yeah, it should really set, but I'm not going to be driving on the highway, not yet at least.

  The next stop is the library. Why? Because that guy of mine who does the driver's licenses uses the library as a front.

  He’s always in the back. I swear he lives here, but then his wife is the librarian so they can slip into the back and have some fun whenever they want. I should know. I accidentally walked in on them once.

  Before I go to find Kyle, though, I hop onto one of the library’s computers, and I print out the papers I’ll need to start over with a new identity. The guy has a room with a special print setup and the necessary papers and even impressions to be able to make birth certificates and even SSN cards. I’ll be all set in an hour or so.

  Once I have the papers in a folder, I head on over and stroll to his room.

  Kyle Frasier looks up at me and does a double-take. "What are you doing back here? This room isn't for patrons."

  I just smile. I’ve been told that’s the one thing I can’t change. My smile is what can give me away. For the most part, when I adopt a new persona, I make it a point not to smile.

  Kyle grunts. “What do you need?”

  I hand him an envelope. Inside is the address I gave my new name—Emma Rose Sanford—and a wad of cash to pay for the driver’s license.

  “New Jersey,” he grunts.

  “Yep.”

  “Not that far away,” he says.

  “Nope.”

  “You look good, Emma Rose.”

  I smile again as he winks. He means nothing flirtatious with it. It’s just his way of letting me know that he knows who I really am.

  “You know the drill. Come back tomorrow—”

  “No can do this time.” I slide him another envelope.”

  Kyle flares his nostrils. “Emma Rose—”

  “You know I wouldn’t unless it’s necessary.”

  "Time-sensitive case?"

  I shake my head.

  His eyebrows lower, and he appraises me.

  “I gotta lay low for a bit,” I mumble.

  "You're in trouble. Otherwise, you would just use one of the fifteen other identities you have."

  “Sixteen,” I correct.

  He scowls. “You went to someone else for one?”

  “I had no choice. I was in Italy,” I protest.

  Kyle wrinkles his nose. “What does that have to do with the price of tea in China?”

  “Two hours?” I plead.

  “Three.”

  “Fine.” I sit down in a chair.

  “You know how I feel when people watch me work,” he complains.

  “The more I move about until I’m out of the state, the greater the chance that the one looking for me will find me.” I wait a breath. “And try to kill me.”

  “Fuck,” he mumbles.

  I grin. “So, yeah, three hours—”

  “I’ll make it two.”

  “You’re a gem, Kyle.”

  “I just don’t want to lose my best customer.”

  “Liar. I haven’t needed a new identity in four and a half years.”

  “You’re the best repeat customer I have. Plus, I think a few of my other customers have been referred to by you.”

  I shrug nonchalantly, playing it cool, but he’s right. There’s been a few cases where I made someone disappear by basically placing them in a makeshift witness protection program. I set them up with a new place, a new name, and no ties to their old lies. It’s not always easy on the persons, no, but it’s either that or be dead.

  Only one of the people I did this for gave themselves away. I wasn’t called in again, the thug opting for another goon to collect the bounty, and that person ended up dead after all. I tried to save them, but not everyone is willing to be saved. Sometimes, people get in their own way.

  That won't happen to me. I'll do what I need to do to get out of here. Once all of this blows over, and it will, I'll be able to be myself again.

  Sophia Clyde is who I am. Emma Rose Sanford is just a stop gate.

  When Kyle’s done, he gives me the license plate. New Jersey’s isn’t like Pennsylvania’s. I live on the west end of PA, so it’s going to be a long drive to the armpit of PA, but so be it. I could head south and be in any number of states a lot quicker, but I like the water, and it’s been a long time since I’ve been to the shore.

  The war with the Grots changed the landscape of the world in some places more than others. The Jersey shore has been brought deeper inland because the previous shoreline has been wiped away, blown apart. There are a few tiny islands broken off, but they're so small that some have been sunk into the ocean.

  With the driver's license in hand as well as my other papers, I head on out. Kyle's wife, Michelle, hands me a bag, and I just lift my eyebrows at her. She grins, and I realize that Kyle must've told her I'm leaving.

  I head to my car and open the bag. Some goodies for the road, all finger foods so I can eat and drive. They’re amazing people. I still don’t know the backstory of how Kyle came to be so good at what he does. Maybe he’ll tell me one day. For now, I have a six-hour drive ahead of me, and my legs are sore from my, ah, activity with Tox.

  All in all, this isn’t the worst plan ever.

  But I kind of wish I had company.

  I miss Tox.

  Damn.

  13

  Tox

  When I wake up, the bed is warm, but Sophia is nowhere to be found. I slowly sit up and look all around, check over the entire house. When I open her closet and see the wigs and the strange clothes, I notice that there’s a slight impression on the carpet. A bag.

  She’s gone.

  Sure enough, when I peek out front, her car is gone.

  Where would she have gone?

  I try to see if there's some kind of clue as to where she might've hidden, but there's nothing here, and I run a hand through my hair in frustration.

  Which makes me think of her pulling on my hair.

  Which makes my cock want to stir.

  No. Down, boy. I don’t have time for that nonsense.

  My chip enables me to call any Novan or Kurian I want, but Earthlings don’t have chips. There’s been talk on and off for years about the Earthlings doing something similar, but there’s been a decent number who are adamantly opposed to it. I’m not sure why, but I wish Sophia would’ve been one of the ones to have the chip implanted. Almost all of the Earthling women who have become moms t
o Kurians have a chip. Maybe they all do. I’m not sure.

  Instead, Earthlings use phones, and I do happen to have Sophia's number because I'm a spy like that. I managed to get my hands on her phone last night. She was sleeping, and I had to go to the bathroom, and I saw her phone there.

  Yes, I’m nosy.

  What if she just went to get us breakfast?

  I head to the kitchen and look in the cabinets and the fridge and freezer. Nope. It’s stockpiled with food. Besides, that bag is missing. She’s all packed up for a long stay away somewhere.

  Without leaving me a note.

  After we had such a good time writing to each other last night too.

  I gnash my teeth and grimace, trying to think frantically. What exactly can I do to find her? If she wants to lay low, she’s not going to use that phone. She’ll abandon it.

  She wants to hide away from the one who wants her dead.

  What the hell? I would’ve thought she’s a fighter, not a fleer. Isn’t that the expression? Fight or flight?

  Flight. Hmm. Would she opt for a plane? She did take her car.

  I look around the house again. There aren’t a whole lot of pictures of Sophia, but there is one of her in a bikini on the beach.

  Hmm. If I can recall the geography of the Earth correctly, the largest bodies of waters are oceans, and the nearest one is to the east. Would she have gone to the ocean, though? There are rivers, lakes, ponds…

  I carefully take down the phone, open up the frame, and look at the backside of the picture. Jersey shore, Wildwood is written on the back.

  What the hell? Why not? I’ll go there. If she’s not there, I don’t know what I’ll do.

  First, though, I call the number from her phone hanging on the wall of her kitchen. It goes right to voicemail. Either the phone is dead, or it's turned off. I'm pretty sure my mom said something about a phone being able to be tracked, so it makes sense for her to have it off. Then again, she only needs it off if she still has the phone on her, which means she might have the phone on her after all.

  I leave her place. Well, I have my hand on the doorknob for me to leave when I realize that I’m naked. I never did get dressed after we had sex.

  The best sex of my life.

  I’m not going to let her just walk away from that.

  Fuck. That she was able to just up and leave… Does that mean it hadn’t been as good for her as I thought? I know she orgasmed, but maybe they weren’t strong ones. Maybe she had other, better lovers. Maybe…

  I’ll find out after I find her. Right now, that’s my main priority.

  It doesn’t take me long to purchase a centuricar. Yes, the money I had been saving for that house I spend. I don’t care about the house. The silver-haired man can buy it to spite me for all I care. The only thing that matters isn’t a thing but a person.

  Sophia.

  I drove her away. She didn’t think I could keep her safe.

  Or maybe she doesn’t trust me.

  That thought has me curling my nose with disgust. She has to trust me. No matter what, I'll be there for her, always.

  The person I buy the centuricar from won’t stop talking. He’s never seen a Kurian before, and he’s asking all kinds of inappropriate questions.

  I clear my throat. “Do you have a map to the shore? I need to get to Wildwood.”

  “There’s a GPS in the car. All you have to do is input the address. Here. Let me show you.”

  The guy gets into the car, touches a bunch of buttons, and a strange voice tells me to make a U-turn.

  I thank him with a nod, climb in, make that U-turn, and I settle in for a drive. The screen says it’ll be about six-hours until I get there. Great. I have no idea when exactly Sophia left, if she had anything to do before she headed to the coast, if she even is heading that way.

  I drive and drive and drive. Oh, in addition to the centuricar, I also bought the guy’s phone off him. I know for a fact that I didn’t overspend for the centuricar because I had been looking around at options before I found that house. As for the phone, I’m sure I overspent, but every time I’m at a red light or a stop sign, I try calling her again.

  It always goes to voicemail. Every time.

  Finally, I’m unable to ignore the hunger pains. My stomach feels like it’s eating itself, and I park at a gas station and head inside. The phone is in my pocket, and right when I’m paying for a premade sandwich, the phone begins to ring.

  I ignore the change, grab my sandwich, leave the store, and answer the call. It’s from a number I don’t recognize, not that I’m going to recognize a lot of numbers.

  “If you’re calling for Vince, I—”

  “Tox?”

  “Sophia?”

  "The name is Emma Rose," she says, but I would recognize that voice anywhere. Besides, I don't know an Emma Rose.

  "Where are you, Emma Rose?" I ask.

  “You don’t need to know where I am.”

  “No?”

  “You don’t need to worry.”

  “Why not?”

  A car pulls up, and I glance over and do a double-take. There's a blonde sitting behind the wheel, but that smile on her face…

  I almost drop the phone, and I rush over to her.

  “How did you come to be here?” she asks. “I thought I saw you on the highway, saw you get off the exit.”

  “I took a guess that you were heading to Wildwood.”

  “How did… The picture?” She stares at me with appreciation. “Nice bit of detective work, but if you can figure that out… I can head to South Jersey instead. From there, maybe I can go through the somewhat legal channels to get to Maryland. Should’ve headed south from the beginning.”

  I walk around and enter her car. It’s a car, not a centuricar. I shut the door, open my sandwich, and rip off a little more than half, and offer it to her.

  She seems a bit preoccupied as she accepts it, and she doesn’t take a bite, her gaze focused off in the distance.

  “I don’t want you to leave,” I say around a mouthful. “Sorry. I know it’s rude to talk with your mouth full, but I’m starving.”

  Her lips curl upward for a slight smile, and she turns to eye me.

  “Don’t run. Be a fighter. Let’s go after the guy who wants you dead.”

  “It’s possible more than one guy wants me dead,” she says.

  “He might’ve hired other mercenaries or bounty hunters, but if we take him out, there won’t be anyone to pay the bounty.” I grin and take another bite.

  “There might be more than one person who wants me dead and would be willing to pay for that,” she says.

  “Do you know that for certain? Or are you running away for some other reason?”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know.” I hesitate. “Because of me.”

  “Tox, this has nothing to do with you,” she protests.

  “No? Are you sure about that?”

  “Are you always so frustrating? Do you think Kuria revolves around you? That the Earth does?”

  “No,” I say hotly. “Excuse me if I want you to be able to live your life the way you want to. Is that such a crime?”

  “You accepted a job to kill me,” she says dryly.

  “I—”

  “You thought about it.”

  “I—”

  “You did research on me to find out if I was a good person or not. That we had a fun time together, that we were friends… that didn’t stop you. There are others I’ve interacted with who would have no issue at all being willing to kill me, to strike me down, to accept that bounty.”

  “Sophia—”

  “All I wanted was to help. I wanted to make the world a safer place.”

  “You already have.”

  “Are you so sure about that considering someone wants to pay someone else to kill me?”

  “You can’t control what other people do,” I protest.

  “No, but I can control what I do, and I’m making the choice
s.”

  “You’re making the wrong choices.”

  She laughs. “Tox, you don’t know me.”

  “I think I know how to make you curl your toes and squirm and moan and come.”

  “That’s not good enough.”

  “Last night it was.”

  "It's the morning after." She glances at the sun. "Well, the afternoon after."

  “I didn’t buy a centuricar and drive for hours for you to just tell me—Wait. You were behind me.”

  “I had some errands to do before I could hit the road.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like I had to create Emma Rose.”

  “You really want to just run away. You don’t want to stand up to the guy? Because, Emma Rose, if we nail this guy, anyone else who wants to come after you will think twice and opt not to.”

  “Or they’ll raise the bounty because they think I’m that much more of a threat.”

  I gnash my teeth. “You should want to take out anyone who is willing to put out a bounty to have an innocent woman’s life cut short.”

  “I don’t prefer to kill.”

  “I understand that but—”

  “Fine. I’ll go after the guy,” she says with a soft sigh.

  “Why the change in heart?”

  She makes a face, but she doesn’t explain herself.

  “We’ll team up and—”

  “We?” Sophia eyes me. “No. There’s no need for you—”

  “I’m involved,” I argue. “I’m not going to let you—”

  Her eyes darken. “You’re not going to let me do anything,” she says hotly. “I do what I want. If I want to go after the guy—”

  “Don’t you want to know what I know about him?”

  “What do you know?”

  “I don’t remember.” I rub my chin.

  She glowers at me.

  “I’m sorry for trying to insinuate that I can tell you what to do,” I tell her.

  “I accept your apology. Now, tell me about the guy. What’s his name?”

  “About that…”

  14

  Sophia