by Fall, Carly
Hudson ducked when the gun went off as he plowed into Jael’s chest, sending them both about ten feet into the road. Jael’s gun flew from his hand. Blake spun around and saw Cohen kick Simon in the chest, which only disabled the guy for a moment. He came back at Cohen and landed a fist to his jaw, sending both men to the pavement.
Blake looked up and down the street hoping the melee wouldn’t be seen, yet he anticipated the cops would eventually be called. The last thing any of them needed was for law enforcement to show up.
Hudson was on top of Jael and hit him squarely in the face. Jael counter-punched, and a bit of blood flew from Hudson’s nose as his head snapped backward. The streetlights glinted off the silver blade in Hudson’s hand, and Jael yelled as Hudson buried it in his side.
Cohen was now on the bottom while Simon pummeled his face. Blake knew he should do something to help Cohen, but his Colonist side reared its head and satisfaction rolled through him as he watched the beating. A slow smile spread across his face, and he wondered if there was a chance Cohen might die tonight.
He met Cohen’s gaze for what seemed like a small eternity. Blake could see the confusion in Cohen’s eyes. Why aren’t you helping me, you bastard?
Despite their differences, Blake was supposed to be playing on Cohen’s team. Regardless of how they felt about each other, they should have each other’s back. Maybe it was the cocaine or just his sheer hatred of everything that was Cohen and Annis—which should have been Annis and him—or maybe it was his Colonist genes surfacing, but Blake couldn’t help but smile as he stared at Cohen’s bleeding mouth. He had a fleeting thought of Cohen dying tonight and then he would step into the role of Annis’s comforter. He imagined putting his arms around her as she cried for the loss of her mate, gently rubbing his hands up and down her spine as she clung to him in misery. He would become her rock, the one she went to for solace, and perhaps her need for comfort could blossom into something else.
Simon’s fist to Cohen’s face broke his reverie, and he knew he had to help Cohen, regardless of his feelings for Annis. Blake grabbed the back of Simon’s coat and pulled him off Cohen, landing a solid punch in his liver for good measure.
Sirens screamed in the distance as Blake offered his hand to Cohen. It was met with a glare as Cohen wiped his mouth, but eventually, he took it.
Hudson landed one final punch to Jael’s jaw, then stood up. “We need to get out of here,” Hudson said, wiping sweat from his forehead.
“Agreed,” Cohen said.
Jael lurched to his feet, holding his side. “This isn’t over,” he sneered through gritted teeth.
“I know,” Hudson countered. “Next time we’ll skip the small talk.”
Jael put his arm over Simon’s shoulder and they walked down the street and slid into an alley.
“Let’s go,” Hudson ordered. “The Hummer is just a block over.”
They ran in the opposite direction of the sirens until they came upon a populated street. There, they slowed their pace to a walk and tried to blend into the crowd, which wasn’t easy with Cohen’s split lip and swelling eye.
“You were going to let Simon kill me,” Cohen hissed to Blake as Hudson walked a few steps ahead of them.
Blake said nothing, just kept his head down, and scanned the area for anyone who might be taking too great an interest in him.
“We need to get this figured out, Blake. I can’t trust that you’ve got my back after that little incident back there. In fact, I’ve had the feeling for a long time that I can’t trust you.”
They came upon the Hummer, and Hudson got in the driver side, while Cohen rode shotgun.
“I’ll catch you guys later,” Blake said.
“You sure you want to be out walking around right now?” Hudson asked while Cohen glared at him through the open window.
Blake scanned the area. No, he didn’t want to be out walking around, but he sure as shit wasn’t getting into the car with them. He didn’t need to hear Cohen accusing him of not coming to his aid because he really didn’t have an excuse. If only for a few seconds, the Colonist in him had come out to play and he had wanted Cohen to die. He had nothing to say, and he wasn’t going to be honest about what he had felt in that short time period. The asshole was mated to the woman he loved, and he had hoped for his death. It didn’t get any more real than that. “I’m good,” Blake said, tapping the top of the Hummer. “You guys evacuate. I’ll make myself scarce.”
“Suit yourself,” Hudson said, and pulled away from the curb. Blake watched them head down to the next block and hang a left, passing a police patrol car heading for the next block where the melee had gone down.
Blake turned in the opposite direction and headed for Brandy’s apartment.
Chapter 5
Blake knocked on Brandy’s door and heard scuffling inside. What the hell was that about?
He knocked again.
“Just a minute!” Brandy called.
Blake looked down the quiet hallway of the apartment building. Honestly, the place was a dump, and for the millionth time, he thought about using some of the Saviors money and moving Brandy into a new one. However, the fact of the matter was he just didn’t care enough to move her out of here. Brandy was an excellent lay, she had access to great drugs, and they shared a few laughs together. She gave him the distraction and relief from his life he needed, and right now he needed some heroin. Why wasn’t she opening the damn door?
He knocked again, and an older woman two doors down poked her head out. She looked to be in her sixties, with short gray hair and heavy lines surrounding her blue eyes. Her face was long and thin, and she looked like someone who had been around the block a time or two and seen more than her fair share of bad shit, that life hadn’t exactly been kind. He wondered if his assessment was correct, but then decided he didn’t care. He didn’t care about much these days.
“Sorry,” Blake said. “She’s home—I hear her in there—but she must be on the shitter or something.”
The woman rolled her eyes. “She probably hidin’ her drugs.”
Blake’s heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?”
The woman shook her head. “I used to be like her. The party girl. The girl everyone came to for a good time.” The woman stepped out, her green nightgown draping on her skeletal body. “This is what the party life gets you,” she said, gesturing to her body. “Hepatitis C, a weekly dialysis treatment, and a memory so bad I can’t even recall what I had for lunch.”
Blake looked her over. Man, she did look bad, like death would be calling any day. If he were her, he’d probably just eat the business end of a gun and call it good.
“If you’re smart, you’ll walk away right now,” the woman lectured. “That girl is headed for nothing but trouble, and she’ll take you down with her. Trust me on that one.” She then went back into her apartment and shut the door.
Blake stared at the old, faded brown linoleum floor. What did that mean, that Brandy would take him down with her? Give him bad drugs? Some STD? He always thought of himself as a pretty intelligent guy, and he knew within his heart he shouldn’t be going down the path he was on, but right now he felt he didn’t have a choice. He had nowhere else to go.
The Saviors offered him protection against his own government. He was a wanted man with a nice bounty on his head. Lately, he had been thinking he never should have searched out the Saviors. When he had been an FBI agent, he should have just minded his own business and thrown away that damn letter he received with the ash on it that had been sent by a Colonist. He should have just kept on living his life and pushed aside the pull to know exactly whom he was and what he was made of. Granted, that was hard to do when you were fifteen years old and watched your father kill your mother, and then explode into a pile of ash when you buried a bullet in his chest.
After that, his life continued to be difficult. Hating the cold of Alaska, he made his way down to Arizona and ended up in Phoenix. He was a street kid for a while, unt
il a restaurateur named Henry had caught him going through his garbage and offered him a job and a place to stay. Henry had mentored him, been his friend, and he’d stood by him as Blake went to college and then on to the FBI. Working in the special unit of the FBI had opened Blake’s eyes to a whole new world that existed right here on Earth.
What the fuck was Brandy doing in there?
He pounded on the door again, this time louder, not caring if he woke up the entire floor.
The door opened, and Brandy stood there in a green strapless nightgown that fell to her mid-thighs. “Blake! I wasn’t expecting you tonight.”
“What’s going on? What took you so long to get to the door?”
Brandy shrugged and smiled. “I told you, I wasn’t expecting you,” she said, stepping aside.
He bent down and gave her a quick kiss as he stepped in. She shut the door.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. “I thought you had business to take care of.”
Blake nodded. Something was off in the apartment, but he couldn’t place what it was. “Business is done.”
“Well then, sit down, honey,” Brandy said. Blake gazed around the apartment, happy that Brandy didn’t question him about things. He could be as vague as he wanted and she never probed. It wasn’t like he could tell her about SR44, the Saviors, and the fact that he was half-Colonist. Keeping those things secret was for her own safety as well as his own. He had a good thing going with Brandy, but he’d never trusted a woman before in his life—excluding his mother and Annis—and it had worked out just fine. His mom had been dead a long time, and look what he got by trusting Annis: a one-way ticket to misery so thick and deep, he was now snorting drugs just to get through the day. If he thought about how far he’d fallen and how pathetic his life had become, he wanted to hit himself in the face.
Blake took in the one-bedroom apartment. A hallway to the left of the small kitchen led to the bathroom and bedroom. The second-hand furniture had lost its luster a long time ago, but Brandy kept the place clean and it was comfortable. He carefully studied each piece of furniture, looked at the pictures on the walls, and gazed over at the bare kitchen counters. Everything looked like it was in its right place, but the hairs on Blake’s neck were standing on end.
“Do you have company?” he asked.
Brandy shook her head. “No. Why?”
Blake glanced around one more time. “Just wondering.”
He took off his jacket as Brandy sunk into the couch. “I’m so glad you were able to come by tonight, baby,” she said, tapping the seat next to her.
He sat down, the uneasy feeling lessening. “Oh yeah? How come?”
Brandy snuggled up to him. “I just got some new stuff in, and I wanted to share.”
Blake smiled. That girl is headed for nothing but trouble, and she’ll take you down with her. He pushed the thought aside, his body aching with desire at the thought of heroin. “I’m game,” he said. “Let’s do it.”
Brandy stood and slipped the nightgown over her head. Blake looked over her naked body, his cock giving a jolt letting him know it liked what he saw. He noticed that he didn’t have much interest in sex with all the heroin he’d been doing the past couple of months. The feeling the heroin gave him was far better than any orgasm he’d ever had. Maybe tonight he’d wait to do the heroin until after sex, something he hadn’t done. He always finished off Brandy and got his high on, never bothering to get to completion himself, but Brandy liked to make sure he came.
Yeah, he was ready for some sex tonight.
“Come on, Blake, you know the drill,” Brandy said, holding out her hand to him. “You get me off, you get a little treat.”
He took her hand, and she led him to the bedroom.
Chapter 6
As she knit a scarf, a knock on the door startled Sophia. Although they lived in Arizona, there were some very cold winter mornings where Megan and she found themselves without proper clothing. Upon her request, Micah had brought her a book on knitting, and she had made them both mittens and scarves, and she was now working on one for Micah.
She tucked the scarf into a drawer, then smoothed her hair and went to the next room to check on Megan. The child lay on the floor surrounded by books, staring at the ceiling.
“Micah is here, love,” Sophia said.
“Okay, Mama,” Megan sighed, standing.
They walked hand-in-hand down the small hall to the front door. Sophia opened it and smiled at the huge male. He stood right around six foot eight with collar-length brown hair, his hawkish features hard, but they softened when he smiled. He carried many plastic bags full of supplies and food for them.
“Good evening, Sophia and Megan,” he said, grinning. “How are you?”
Sophia bowed her head, never fully getting used to the way his fierce, dark eyes raked over her. “Hello, Micah. We are very well, thank you. Please, come in.”
Sophia and Megan stepped aside allowing Micah’s huge frame to enter the tiny house. He was terrifyingly large. Even though she had known him for almost four years, his size still intimidated her.
As he made his way to the kitchen, Sophia startled at how his footsteps reverberated on the hardwood floor. She’d heard the sound many times, but it never failed to surprise her. He was a huge male, and she was used to the pitter-patter of Megan’s little feet.
After he placed the groceries on the kitchen counter, he turned to both of them. Leaning down, he kissed Sophia’s cheek, and then he picked up Megan. “How are you, child?” he asked.
“I’m good,” Megan said.
Sophia remembered having a strong bond with her own father, and it tore at her heart that Megan didn’t have that with Micah. The girl wiggled around in his grasp as though she wanted nothing more than to be free of him. Maybe he sensed this, or perhaps he didn’t care about building a relationship with his daughter, but he set her down. Sophia reminded herself that Micah was busy fighting an important war against the Colonists, and he had very little time to devote to her and Megan.
“How was your day?” she asked as they moved into the kitchen. Micah took a seat at the head of the kitchen table, while Megan sat to his left.
Micah shook his head. “It was a rough one,” he said. Sophia scooped the vegetable soup she’d made from their garden into a bowl, and placed it in front of him.
“Jael was hurt badly by a Colonist,” Micah said, bringing the spoon to his lips.
“Oh my!” Sophia exclaimed. Jael made her skin crawl, but she didn’t wish him any harm simply because Micah needed all the help he could get in his fight against the Colonists. She brought over a loaf of fresh bread she had made that morning and a bowl of soup for Megan. “Will Jael be okay?”
Micah nodded, breaking off a chunk of bread and taking a bite. “We believe so. This is delicious, Sophia.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, pride welling within her. On SR44 she had never had to see to her own needs, but on Earth, she was not only responsible for herself, but also Megan. It gave her satisfaction that she could care for another and do it well.
“It is good, Mama. I love the potatoes in the soup,” Megan agreed.
“Thank you, honey.”
They sat in silence for a few moments, and then Micah said, “It would be nice if we had help from the Saviors in battling the Colonists. It’s terrible out there, Sophia.”
He laid his hand over hers, and she flinched at his touch. Micah was kind to them, and they were performing a crucial task of keeping their race alive and well. Yet, when she thought about the actions that entailed, her stomach clenched.
“When I think about taking you out of this safe haven, it scares me to death to think you would be exposed to the horrors out there.”
She smiled. “Thank you for wanting to protect us.”
He nodded again and finished his soup.
“May I be excused?” Megan asked.
“Of course, little one,” Micah said.
Megan jumped up from th
e table and ran to her room. Sophia heard the click as she softly shut the door.
She stood and cleared the bowls and set them in the sink, her heart fluttering. Why did she become so nervous on these mating nights? They had been meeting like this for years, and she had birthed a wonderful child. The sexual act only lasted a few moments, and then Micah would leave and return in two evenings. After three mating sessions, she probably wouldn’t see him again for another month. Every now and then he surprised her, but it didn’t happen often.
On SR44, her father hadn’t yet arranged her marriage before the chaos began. She had been a virgin, so she had no idea how the joinings as a SR44 being felt physically, nor was she aware of any of the emotions the act brought to its participants. On Earth, the undertaking was one of necessity, and she knew she could be happy without it, and sometimes, she wondered if Micah felt the same. Living as a human woman, she assumed the sexual act was pleasurable for some females, however, she had never experienced any type of pleasure with Micah, and she doubt she ever would. Their coupling was simply a step in achieving a goal.
The chair scraped as he stood and came up behind her. He gently rested his hands on her shoulders. “Are you ovulating?” he asked quietly.
Sophia nodded. “Yes. I took the test this morning.”
“Good,” he said. His soft breath tickled her neck and a shiver went down her spine.
“I’ll go prepare. Perhaps this time the gods will smile down on us and give us a male,” he said, giving her shoulder a squeeze.
When he said things like that, she wondered if he didn’t appreciate the beautiful, little female down the hall. She never bothered to ask, as she wasn’t sure she really wanted an honest answer.
She spent a few extra minutes scrubbing the dishes and putting them in the dishwasher. Taking a deep breath, she glanced at her reflection in the window and tucked her hair behind her ear. She gave herself a weak smile, and then turned to perform her duty to the SR44 race.