The Catalyst: (Book One)

by Devi Mara

  Addar was facing away from her, his hands behind his back in a relaxed pose. At the sound of the door, he turned to face her.

  “You slept well?”

  Robin intended to answer in the affirmative, but his heavy gaze moving over her nightgown clad figure made the words stick in her throat. The garment was hardly revealing, coming to her knees and possessing a high scoop neck, but the way he was taking in the bare skin she was showing… A shiver went down her spine.

  “Yes,” she said softly in answer to his question.

  His gaze rose to her face, and she forced herself not to take a step back. He was so intense, completely focused. The scientist in her was dying to find out how much he had learned overnight, but the rest of her was pinned in place by his dark gaze.

  “Did-did you sleep?” she asked.

  He cocked his head and his eyes left her to drift toward the living room.

  “No.”

  “How many disks did you get through?”

  He frowned.

  “How many lessons did I complete?”

  She nodded.

  “One through seventy. The first five disks in the case. There are two left.”

  Robin tried not to gape at him.

  He turned his head to look at her, and she thought she saw a flash of amusement.

  “I have made the first meal. Breakfast, it is called.”

  She nodded numbly and followed him to the kitchen. Her bare feet were silent on the cool wood floor, for once quieter than his stealthy footsteps. He entered the kitchen and gestured toward the table.

  “You…made breakfast.”

  For about twelve people. She was amazed she had that much food in her refrigerator. Her eyes scanned the table full of dishes. Pancakes, eggs, waffles, bacon, three types of fruit, some kind of pie, biscuits, and a pot of coffee steamed on the counter. How on earth had he figured out how to make all of it?

  “When did you learn how to use the oven?” she asked in shock.

  “Last night.”

  Obviously.

  “Where did you learn that, I meant?”

  “Here.”

  She fought the urge to grind her teeth. Robin forced herself to take a deep breath and calm herself. She raised her eyes to look at him.

  “How did you learn to use the oven?”

  His lips twitched into a slight smirk.

  “The computer.”

  The computer? The internet. The moment it hit her, her eyes widened. If he could get on the internet, there was no end to what he could learn.

  “What else did you learn?” she asked, almost afraid of his answer.

  “Are you hungry?”

  He ignored her question and pulled out a chair. When she simply stared at him, he impatiently gestured for her to take the seat.

  “Sit. Please.”

  She looked from the offered seat to him and back. Sit. Her mind spun with all of the things he could have learned in seven hours. He had shown his understanding of English to be at least a high school level. Perhaps, he had not had much time to explore the internet when he finished with the English lessons. She sat and watched him walk to the other side of the table to take the seat across from her.

  “How long were you on the internet, Addar?” she asked, with what she hoped sounded like a casual tone.

  He nudged the plate of biscuits toward her, a faint smile on his lips.

  “Long enough.”

  She was not sure what to make of that answer. It sounded a little ominous to her ears. She licked her lips nervously.

  “Thank you for making breakfast.”

  He nodded, simply watching her fill her plate.

  Robin raised one of the fragrant biscuits to her lips, about to take a bite, when her gaze met his. He was not eating. She hesitated.

  “I do not need to eat as often as a human.”

  She frowned.

  “How often do you require nourishment?”

  He leaned back in his chair and shook his head.

  “Eat, Robin.”

  She stared into his eyes for a long moment, but they were completely devoid of emotion. If he planned to poison her, she doubted she would know beforehand. She dropped her gaze to the food on her plate. Surely, he had to know he could not survive without her.

  “I will not poison you, if that is your concern.”

  She jerked her head up and stared at him. He gave her a small smile. It was the best she would get from him, it seemed. She took a bite of the biscuit in her hand and closed her eyes at the sweet flavor. Did she have honey in the apartment somewhere? She must have.

  “This is wonderful,” she said after she had swallowed the first bite.

  Addar’s eyes were cool, but his lips were slightly curved.

  “I am pleased you like it.”

  “Are you?” she asked, before she could stop herself.

  He cocked his head to the side, seeming to consider her.

  When he did not answer, she finished the biscuit and moved on to the bacon and eggs. As she was neatly eating, he stood and moved to the counter to pour a cup of coffee. She noticed he knew his way around the kitchen. He had probably explored the apartment while she was asleep. She should have unplugged the internet before she went to bed. Even if she could not keep him from memorizing her home, she could have kept him from the rest of the world.

  There was no excuse for her irresponsibility. As she was still mentally kicking herself, he set the coffee mug down beside her. She jumped.

  “Cream or sugar?”

  She pushed her half-finished plate away and stood.

  “I can get it.”

  She walked around him, acutely aware of his gaze. As she retrieved the flavored creamer from the refrigerator, she glanced at the table of food. It was wrong to let so much go to waste. She considered her neighbors down the hall. Mr. and Mrs. Peterson were an old couple from Connecticut. They had moved to the building only a few months after her. They had brought her a pie, if she remembered correctly.

  She poured a dollop of cream in her coffee and returned the jug to the refrigerator. When she turned, Addar was standing just behind her. She just barely managed to keep from spilling her coffee.

  “Humans usually require a little more space than this,” she said, stepping around him.

  His hand shot out to press on her abdomen, holding her in place.

  “Usually?” he questioned. “When do they not?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him.

  “In situations we will never be in. Please unhand me.”

  He removed his hand, dragging his fingertips against the silky material on her gown, before his hand dropped to his side and he moved away.

  …

  The woman was fascinating. One moment, she was quiet and almost demure. The next, her dark eyes were flashing in irritation and her smooth voice was razor sharp. He would not say he was physically attracted to her, but after a bit of research on the internet, it was obvious why humans may consider her to be attractive. After scanning the planet’s history, he had given in to the urge to study Robin.

  Her bronze skin placed her in the majority, he found. Most of the planet, Earth it was called, was comprised of humans with dark skin and dark eyes. Robin was one of many. He had narrowed his study to human females and standards of beauty. He was not sure what he thought of some of the things he had found. Robin was not a waif, nor was she at the other end of the spectrum. She was considered average.

  As he watched her retake her seat at the table, he found he disagreed. She was not like the other female. The short, blonde woman who smelled of fruit and chattered too fast to understand. No. Robin had a quiet authority to her. From exploring her living space, he found out she had two doctorates. In her world, she was highly accomplished. The documents he could find about her on the internet declared her a genius in her field, someone to be respected.

  He retook his chair and watched her rise to go to the drawer near the refrigerator. Plastic wrap, he assumed. He w
as proved correct when she lifted the long, thin box from the drawer and returned to the table. He noticed she avoided looking at him. Addar furtively sniffed. Nervousness and something else. Something musky and a bit sweet. Interesting.

  He watched Robin cover each dish with plastic wrap and organize them into stacks by size. When she started to gather them into her hands, he frowned.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Taking the leftovers to my neighbors.”

  Neighbors? Those who lived near her.

  “Why?”

  She sighed.

  “They are elderly and Mrs. Peterson was not feeling well when I saw her in the lobby two days ago.”

  She did not answer his question. He watched her balance the stack of dishes in her arms and start for the door. When she was a few steps from the table, she stopped and turned back.

  “Do you—” she broke off.

  He slowly rose from his chair.

  “I will accompany you.”

  When he took the dishes from her, Robin’s cheeks reddened. He cocked his head to the side. He would need to look that up later. Addar followed Robin to the door and stepped through ahead of her. After she closed the door behind them, she led the way down the hall to the only other apartment. A tiny gray-haired man answered only seconds after Robin’s knuckles hit the door.

  “Dr. Kay!” the man said with wide eyes.

  “I’m sorry if I frightened you, Mr. Peterson,” Robin apologized, as the man waved her off.

  “No, no. I was just on my way to get the mail. Didn’t expect anyone to be out here.”

  Robin showed her teeth. Addar reminded himself that it was called a ‘smile’ to humans. A positive reaction, not a threat. When the man returned the gesture, he had to remind himself again. Something about the man baring his teeth at Robin irritated him. He straightened his spine. The movement drew the old man’s attention.

  “Who is this, Dr. Kay? A friend of yours?”

  Addar watched Robin nod.

  “Yes, we work together. He will be staying for a short time.”

  “I haven’t seen him around before,” the man said.

  “He’s not from Chicago.”

  Addar raised his eyebrows, but did not comment. Robin had an interesting way of lying with the truth. The conversation continued for another moment, before they were invited into the man’s home. Addar stepped inside cautiously. The apartment had the same layout as Robin’s, but that was where the similarities ended.

  Where Robin’s apartment was grays and blues, all glass and metal furnishings, the Peterson domicile was dark heavy furniture and thick curtains. As they moved into the living room, a large rug covered the wooden floor. In one of the overstuffed armchairs by the TV, an old woman slept. Her paper-thin skin was stretched tightly over her cheekbones, deep bruising beneath her eyes.

  “Is she feeling any better?” he heard Robin ask.

  “We just started a new round of chemo on Friday.”

  Addar caught Robin’s grimace from the corner of his eyes, and turned his head to look at her.

  “I thought it was gone. When I saw her a few months ago…”

  The old man nodded, his eyes on the woman.

  “It’s stubborn, but so is she.”

  Questions filled his mind. Chemo. It sounded familiar. He must have read it somewhere. As Robin continued to talk to the old man, his gaze drifted back to the woman. She was dying. He could smell it from across the room. Beneath the bite of some sort of chemical, was the sour stench of death. It was all around her.

  “Let me know if you need anything.”

  Robin laid a hand on his arm and he snapped his head around to look at her. She gave him a quick nod and he silently followed her to the door.

  “It was nice to meet you, young man,” the man said from the entryway.

  Addar gave him a sedate nod.

  “You, as well.”

  Robin pulled the door closed. They walked in silence back to her apartment and only when the door closed behind them, did he speak.

  “She is dying.”

  Robin tensed for a moment, before she relaxed and nodded.

  “I know. It’s cancer.”

  That was where he recognized the word. Chemotherapy. One of the treatments for the disease called cancer. It was an uncontrolled growth of cells, if he remembered correctly from reading one of Robin’s medical books.

  “Why do you not cure it?”

  She sent him a sharp look.

  “I’m not that kind of doctor.”

  He watched her walk away, her shoulders stiff. When she disappeared into her bedroom and shut the door firmly, he returned to the computer. Addar loaded the second to last disk in the case and slid the headphones on his head. He quickly absorbed the material, throwing himself into the intricacies of the language to keep his mind off the look on Robin’s face before she retreated to her room.

  The last disk was nearly over when Robin returned to the living room. She stood in front of the desk and watched him, until the last lesson finished and he removed the headphones.

  “I am taking you to the lab tonight. I want to take some blood samples.”

  He considered her words.

  “You want to study me.”

  She gave him a curt nod.

  “And when you have discovered all you can from my living body? What will you do then?”

  Robin’s eyes widened and she took a step back from him.

  “It’s not like that.”

  He cocked his head to the side, pleased to see the emotion return to her eyes.

  “Isn’t it?”

  She shook her head once, emphatically.

  “No. It’s not.”

  He nodded. He would do as she asked until he had achieved his objectives.

  “Very well.”

  Addar turned back to the computer, but she did not move. He glanced at her.

  “Was there something else?”

  “Your pronunciation is better,” she said softly.

  “I have finished the disks. I understand that means I am now fluent in your language.”

  She nodded.

  “Good,” he said.

  Robin watched him for another moment, before she drifted away to sit on the sofa. He watched her flip on the TV, turning the volume down to a level that must be difficult to hear. She slowly sank back on the couch, until only the top of her head was visible. He returned his attention to the computer. As he searched the internet for anything of use, he found himself inhaling Robin’s scent more often.

  He thought it would make it difficult to concentrate, but he found she had the opposite effect. Most fascinating.

  Chapter Nine

  Robin stared at the TV, the volume too low to make out the words of the reality show. Not that it mattered, her mind was not on the TV. She shifted on the sofa until she could peek over the back. Addar had barely moved since she sat down. His gaze was fixed on the computer screen. The light reflected in his eyes, creating a faint night shine. As she watched, his gaze slid away from the computer to pin her in place.

  She was not sure what to make of his expression. He seemed to know so much more about humans than she knew about him. And he was not inclined to share, she thought with a frown. He had made it very obvious. Whatever he remembered of his life, if anything, he was not interested in telling her. No, he was far more focused on learning. She broke eye contact and scooted to the front of the couch to stand.

  “Robin?”

  She paused mid-stretch to glance at him.

  “Yes?”

  His gaze took in her figure, pausing for several beats on the sliver of skin showing above the waist of her jeans.

  “I would like to purchase clothing. Shopping, it is called.”

  Robin quickly considered the question. He had clearly bathed while she had been asleep, as his hair had been wet when she woke, but he had been forced to dress in the same sweatpants and t-shirt. She chewed her bottom lip. Taking him into a crowd
ed store was a risk. She had not had a chance to study his psychology. He could become violent in stressful situations.

  As she thought, Addar stood from the chair and rounded the edge of the desk to stand in front of her. Too close. She blinked to refocus on him, tipping her head back to meet his gaze. His eyes had darkened to the color of gun metal, and he stared at her as if he could will her into agreeing. She took a step back.

  “I will send out for something,” she decided.

  Irritation flashed in his eyes.

  “As pleasing as your domicile is, I require fresh air and space.”

  There was an edge to his voice, something very near a growl.

  Robin raised her chin.

  “I have no way of predicting your reactions to stimuli,” she said honestly.

  He cocked his head to the side.

  “You think I will ‘freak out’, is that it?”

  She blinked at his phrasing, but nodded.

  “Essentially.”

  “I won’t.”

  She could not simply trust him. Without mapping his brain and testing his hormonal levels, he was a complete mystery. It was impossible to know anything about him. She should not trust him.

  “Okay.”

  A small smile curved his lips.

  “Thank you,” he said, sounding sincere.

  Robin did not reply. She walked to the door and grabbed her jacket. The evening had been cool for the past few days. By the time she settled her purse strap on her shoulder, Addar was behind her. A burning heat against her back. She drew in a slow breath and looked over her shoulder at him.

  “Personal space.”

  If possible, his eyes grew more intense.

  “Am I not allowed near you?”

  She raised her chin.

  “Within reason.”

  Robin opened the door without waiting for his reply. He silently stepped into the hall behind her and watched her lock the door. They did not speak in the elevator. It was only when they were at the lobby doors that she glanced at him.

  “If this outing goes badly…” she trailed off.

  From the mildly amused look he sent her, she assumed he understood the unspoken threat.